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THE
THEOLOGICAL WORKS
OF
ISAAC BARROW, D.D.
Cambridge :
PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A.
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
Digitized by the Internet Archive | in 2008 with funding from Microsoft Corporation
https://archive.org/details/theologicalworks01 barruoft
i” ee ‘ _THE ~ THEOLOGICAL WORKS
OF
a
ISAAC BARROW, D.D.
MASTER OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
IN NINE VOLUMES. .
Edited jfor the Spndics of the Unibersity Press | BY
THE REV., ALEXAN DERCNAPIER, M.A.
TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, VICAR OF HOLKHAM, NORFOLE. }
VOLUME I CONTAINING
FIFTEEN SERMONS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. ,
CAMBRIDGE: AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS. M. DCCC. LIX.
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: MCCA acy eat tx taigedi ns 5 Besar be ‘RRL Se toate
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CONTENTS OF VOLUME IT.
SERMONS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS.
PAGE PREFACE . : ‘ ; - ‘ é : E ix LIFE - - - : - - y : XXXVii Appitions To LIFE Ivii TILLOTSON’S PREFACE . 3 ; : : : : Ixxxi THE DEDICATION : ; - : : - . Ixxxvii SERMON I. THE DUTY AND REWARD OF BOUNTY TO THE POOR. PSALM CXII. 9. He hath dispersed, he hath given to the poor; his righteousness endureth for ever ; ¥ horn shall be exalted with honour . 3—96
SERMON II. UPON THE PASSION OF OUR BLESSED SAVIOUR.
PHILIPPIANS 11. 8.
And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross 97—150
SERMON IIT.
(COLLATED.)
THE PLEASANTNESS OF RELIGION.
PROVERBS 111. 17.
Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace 151—173
SERMON IV.
(COLLATED.) THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 1 Timorny tv. 8. But godliness is profitable for all things. : : . V74—201
vil Contents. SERMON V.
(COLLATED.) THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS.
1 Trmorny ry. 8.
But godliness is profitable for all things
SERMON VI.
(COLLATED, WITH ADDITIONS FROM MS.) THE REWARD OF HONOURING GOD.
1 Samver mu. 30. For them that honour me I will honour
SERMON VII.
(COLLATED.) UPRIGHT WALKING SURE WALKING.
PROVERBS x. 9.
He that walketh uprightly, walketh surely .
SERMON VIII.
. (COLLATED.) OF THE DUTY OF PRAYER.
1 THESSALONIANS vV. 17. Pray without ceasing
SERMON Ix,
(COLLATED,) OF THE DUTY OF PRAYER.
1 THESSALONIANS V. 17.
Pray without ceasing SERMON X.
(COLLATED, WITH ADDITIONS FROM MS.)
OF THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING.
Epuesians v. 20.
Giving thanks always for all things unto God
PAGE
202—233
234—268
269—292
293—312
313—337
338—366
Contents.
SERMON XI.
(COLLATED, WITH ADDITIONS FROM M3.) OF THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. J EpuHEsians v. 20.
Giving thanks always for all things unto God
SERMON XII.
(COLLATED.)
ON THE KING’S HAPPY RETURN.
1 Trmotny mu. 1, 2.
TI exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, in- tercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men: for kings, and for all that are in authority
SERMON XIII.
(COLLATED.) ON THE GUNPOWDER TREASON.
Psatm Ltxiv. 9, 10.
And all men shall fear, and shall declare the work of God; for they shall wisely consider of his doing. The righteous shall be glad in the Lord, and shall trust in him; and all the upright in heart shall glory
SERMON XIV.
(COLLATED.)
A CONSECRATION SERMON.
PsALM CXxxi. 16.
T will also clothe her priests with salvation : . °
SERMON XV.
NOT TO OFFEND IN WORD, AN EVIDENCE OF A HIGH PITCH
OF VIRTUE.
JAMES II. 2.
Tf any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man
vil PAGE 367—403 404—443 444—484 485—525 526—551
PREFACE.
F all the great Theologians of the Church of Eng- land, among whom he has ever held one of the
ERRATA.
VoL. I. p. 157, line 26, for ‘‘only” read “ wholly”
— p. 187, line 11, for “the All” read ‘‘ The All”
os p. 211, (note) for “xarép0wua” read ** karbpOwua” Vol. u. p. 71, line 30, for ‘discoast” read ‘‘ discost” Vol. v. p. 236, line 5, for ‘“‘conversation” read ‘ ‘conservation ’’
— p- 378, line 26, for “ wills” read ‘‘ evils” Vol. vi. p. 499, for “ Lucentemque globum terre” read “ Lune” Vol. vil. p. 254, the number “16” belongs to the paragraph beginning “ Fur-
thermore” 411, the number “10” belongs to the paragraph beginning ‘* Ambi-
oS
guity of words”
Pp: 493, line 17, for “ Marcian” read ‘‘ Marcion” as p. 548, line 7, for “subsisted” read “substituted ” p. 639, line 5, for “policy” read ‘ polity”
. 738, line 9, for “policy” read “ polity” Vol. 1x. p. xii. 1. 26, for ‘‘ made” read “ready.” — Contents, p. VIII, line 27, for 1569 read 16509.
ns]
strict sense of the term, Tillotson was not conjoined with Abraham Hill by Barrow himself in the literary executorship of his unpublished works, as his biogra- pher Birch seems to have imagined, misled by the au- thority. of Dr Walter Pope, who in all matters con- nected with Barrow is most inaccurate: for Barrow died intestate. That Barrow on his death-bed gave B.S. VOL. I. b
® an *% ty ai BH be tise
PREFACE.
QO" all the great Theologians of the Church of Eng-
land, among whom he has ever held one of the highest places of honour, Barrow had himself published the least. Celebrated both at home and abroad by his Mathematical Works and Discoveries, he had given to the world, at the time of his death, two Sermons only, both printed by special request; the Spital Sermon, preached and published in the year 1671; the Guildhall Sermon, preached in the year 1677, the last sheets of which were passing through the press during his fatal illness. His great fame as a Theologian rests on the works published at intervals after his death, under the careful editorship of Archbishop Tillotson, then Dean of Canterbury; who, amidst his many engagements, and at the height of his celebrity as the great preacher of the Age, could yet devote years of severe labour to ex- amining, and arranging, and finally publishing, the body of works which Barrow had left in manuscript. In the strict sense of the term, Tillotson was not conjoined with Abraham Hill by Barrow himself in the literary executorship of his unpublished works, as his biogra- pher Birch seems to have imagined, misled by the au- thority. of Dr Walter Pope, who in all matters con- nected with Barrow is most inaccurate: for Barrow died intestate. That Barrow on his death-bed gave
B. 8. VOL. I. b
x Preface.
Tillotson permission to publish the Treatise of the Pope’s Supremacy, we learn from Tillotson’s preface prefixed to the first publication of that work; but neither there nor elsewhere does he inform us, whether or to what extent he had been directly entrusted by Barrow him- self with the discretionary publication of his manu- script works. Barrow’s papers, after his death, natu- rally reverted to his father; by whom, as we may infer from Ward’s account’, “they were entrusted to the care of Dr John Tillotson, and Abraham Hill, Esq., with power to print such of them as they thought proper.” The editorial labours of Tillotson were continued during a period of nearly ten years; as the following chronological list of the several publications of the works will shew:
1. Sermons preached on several occasions. S8vo. London, 1678. (Sermons Il.—xIv. of the present Edition.)
2. Several Sermons against Evil Speaking. S8yo. London, 1678. (Sermons xv.—xxtv. of this Edition.)
3. On the Love of God and our Neighbour, in several Ser- mons. 8yvo. London, 1680. (Sermons xxv.—xxxtl. of this Edition.)
These, in old advertisements and in the curious
document, which will be mentioned further on, are termed, The First, Second and Third Volumes of Bar-
row’s Sermons.
4, A Treatise of the Pope’s Supremacy. To which is added
a Discourse concerning the Unity of the Church. 4to. 1680,
® Lives of the Gresham Professors, p- 164.
Preface. xl
In the same year the Discourse on the Unity of the Church was published separately. 5. A Brief Exposition of the Lord’s Prayer, and the Deca- logue. To which is added the Doctrine of the Sacra- ments. S8vo. London, 1682. 6. The preceding form the first folio volume of the first collected edition, published with a Preface by Tillotson, in the year 1683.
The Second Volume, containing the Sermons on the Creed, followed in the course of the same year. The Third Volume, containing Sermons preached on several occasions in the year 1686. The Fourth Volume, containing the Opuscula and Poemata, in the year 1087.
7. About three years after Tuillotson’s death, two small volumes were published by Brabazon Aylmer:
A Defence of the Blessed Trinity. London, 1697. (Printed in Vol. rv. of this Edition, p. 492, et seqq.)
A Brief Exposition of the Creed. London, 1697. (Printed in Vol. vil. of this Edition.)
The above, together with some additions, of which an account will be given, form the Theological Works of Barrow, as printed in this Edition; which have been thus conveniently divided:
I. Sermons preached on Several Occasions. Vol. 1.—tIv. II. Sermons and Expositions on the Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, the Decalogue, the Sacraments. Vol. v.—v1t. Ill. The Treatise of the Papal Supremacy, and the Dis-
course on the Unity of the Church. Vol. vu. b2
xii Preface.
IV. The Opuscula and Poemata. Vol. 1x. pp. 1—574. V. The Works attributed to Barrow. Vol. 1x. pp. 576— 726.
I. The first four Volumes contain sixty-five Ser- mons, preached on several occasions, and at several places.
It would be interesting to discover when and where these Sermons were preached; but except in a few in- stances, neither the date nor the place of their delivery can positively be ascertained. According to entries on the several MSS., three were preached at St Mary’s, before the University, and at these dates:
Sermon 11., June 30, 1661. Sermon x., Jan. 17, 1662. Sermon x1, July 19, 1663.
The latter was also preached, with a new heading, which is given Vol. 1. p. 367 (note), at Gray’s Inn, Jan. 16, 1664. Sermon 111. was, according to Tillotson», the first sermon he ever preached. The same authority° informs us, that the Restoration Sermon, and the Gun- powder Plot Sermon, were preached in the year of his Vice-Chancellorship, 1675—1676; both, it is probable, before the University. Sermon vr. was preached, ac- cording to an entry on the MS. before the Court, Aug. 1670; and as we learn from Evelyn’s Diary’, Sermon XXVII. was also delivered to the Household, April,
> Preface to the first volume of the Collected Works. © Ibid.
* See the extract, Vol. 1. p- 192 of this Edition (note).
Preface. Xill
1675. The Sermon which, for distinction’s sake, has been allowed to retain its first title, The Defence of the Blessed Trinity (Vol. rx. p. 492, et seqq.) was preached on Trinity Sunday, 1663. This is the sum of the positive information we possess, at present, on these two points. Internal evidence leads us to con- clude, that the greater part of them were Academical Discourses, preached either before the University, or in the Chapel of Trinity College.
The first and second Sermons, the only Theological works published, as before remarked, during Barrow’s life, are in this Edition printed verbatim from the original Editions, published the former in 1671, the latter in 1677.
Of all the remaining sixty-three discourses, manu- script copies are not found in the Trinity College Col- lection, which, as we may infer from the following fact, was probably incomplete when it passed by purchase into the possession of the College. The Sermon on the text Acts iii, 18 (Vol. rv. p. 371, et seqq.) is contained in Vol. 366 of the Lansdowne MSS. of the British Museum, with this short note on the fly-leaf:—Bra- bazon Aylmer the Bookseller gave me this sermon. Febry. 15, 1694. Joh. Strype. May it not thence be probably concluded, that Aylmer, to whom the copy- right of the works belonged, was in the habit of giving single sermons to admirers of Barrow, or to the curious in the collection of manuscripts? and may not this instance account for the absence of several sermons from the Trinity College MSS?
X1V Preface.
It was necessary, therefore, to distinguish the Ser- mons collated with the MSS. from those which are printed as in Tillotson’s Edition: and this, accord- ingly, has been done in the Table of Contents pre- fixed to each Volume.
The additions and changes, however, which are found in this Edition, derived from the collation of the old text with the MS. draughts, require more special notice.
1 The MSS. shew, that Tillotson, startled and offended by the strange words so frequently used by Barrow, was in the habit of substituting for them more simple expressions; and that occasionally he erased - passages. For instance: in Sermon ur. Vol. 1. p. 14, “the best actions, if they swell in life,” has been sub- stituted for “the best actions, if they protuberate in life;” in Sermon xxxvr. Vol. u. p. 556, the passage “Those foul monsters, our sins, I say, did all stand before him in their own horrid shape and ugly agegra- vations, thirsting to suck his blood, and gaping to devour him,” was erased by Tillotson. And through- out, “divert” is substituted for “avoce;” “satiety” for “fastidiousness;” “improve” for “meliorate;” “ flat- tering” for ‘“adulatorous;” “gain” for “acquist;” “thrust” for “extrude ;” “without ceasing” for “inde- sinently ;” “heedless” for “oscitant;” ‘such-like” for “semblable;” “forsake” for “derelinquish;” “invent” for “extund;” “rebuke” for “increpate;” “cast down” for “detruded,” &c. The process of erasure has oc- casionally been so mischievously effective as to defy
Preface. XV
all attempts at restoration; but im every case, where the words or phrases could be deciphered, they have been scrupulously restored. Nor has it been thought necessary to mdicate in the text where in each case this has been done: the plan which the Editor imposed on himself being simply to print Barrow’s Works as Barrow wrote them and left them.
2 But Tillotson permitted himself to take further liberties. In his Edition, several of the Sermons are subdivided by him differently from the manuscript copies, and differently therefore from the present Edition. Thus Sermons xu. Vol. m1. p. 196, et seqq.; xu. Vol. 11. p. 300, et seqq.; xivit. Vol. m1. p. 418, et seqq.; xLIx. Vol. 11. p. 490, et seqq.; LI. Vol. iv. p. 80, et seqq.; uu. Vol. iv. p. 114, et seqq., were each divided into two sermons; the manuscripts of these Sermons clearly shewing the divisions made in Tillot- son’s handwriting, as directions to the printer. Again, Sermon u. Vol. rv. p. 1 et seqq. was divided into four; and Sermon xxxvir. Vol. m1. p. 1 et seqq. into five Ser- mons; the division in each case being, as in the above, in Tillotson’s handwriting. The length, indeed, of these discourses, as they are now printed,—the former extend- ing to 79, the latter to 126 pages,—is excessive; beyond the measure even of that age, which was patient of long sermons. Whether when preached, they were, preached at length, may well be doubted; but they are so written, and in accordance with the plan followed in this Edition, they are so printed. Of Sermon t. it may be noted, there are no less than three MS. draughts;
Xvi E ig reface.
one the copy used by the printer, and two others, of which one is more sketchy than the other; but in none of these copies is there any indication of the threefold division adopted by Tillotson.
3 But besides these restorations, new matter will be found in this Edition, derived from second, third, or even fourth draughts of the same Sermon. In op- position to the express statement of his friend and biographer, Abraham Hill, “that subjects which he thought most important to be considered for his own use, he cast into the method of Sermons for the benefit of others, and herein was so exact as to write some of them four or five times over,” Dugald Stewart has - hazarded the opinion®, that Barrow’s sermons bear the internal marks of extreme rapidity of composition, that they are to be regarded as the almost extemporaneous effusions of his pen; and to this alleged rapidity of composition, the same author ascribes the hasty and not altogether consistent opinions which he finds ex- pressed on some important topics. It would not be just to Barrow to allow this view to pass unnoticed and unrefuted, when the evidence is at hand to prove, that his Sermons, and all his Works, were not more the productions of his fertile genius than the results of extraordinary elaboration. The MSS. abundantly con- firm Hill’s account. Revision and correction of the minutest character are their great characteristics. His method of composition may, indeed, be easily traced, by the help of the manuscripts, in its several progres-
* Prelim. Disser. to the Encycl. Brit. Seventh Ed. p. 45.
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Preface. XVIL
sive stages. The subject chosen, he seems to have drawn up a scheme of his intended argument; this he unfolded at some length under several heads, leaving spaces for new matter; this again, after receiving the amplifications, was written out fully; and this fuller draught was replaced by another fuller still, into which additions and improvements, even to the most minute verbal corrections, were carefully introduced; nor even then does it appear that he thought, that his discourse or argument, after passing through these different states, could ever attain the state of finality. It may be doubted, on the unquestionable authority of these remarkable Manuscripts, whether any author ever ela- borated his matter or his style in a higher degree than Barrow. Inconsistencies of opinion, if such there be, may not therefore be attributed to his rapidity of com- position.
It is not however to be inferred, that there are several MS. copies of each Sermon. Of many there is but one MS. draught; this is the case with the following: Vol. 1. Sermons i. iv. v. xu.; Vol. m1. Sermons xxv. XXVII. xxvu. xxrx.; Vol. mr. Sermons XLiv. xLv.; Vol. 1v. Sermons LVII. LVIII. LIX. LX. LXIV. Some of these, as the originals distinctly shew, are in an unfinished, almost fragmentary state; specially Sermons XXIX. LI. LI. LVI. LviII.—.x. which may be regarded as specimens of Barrow’s Sermons in their middle stage of progress, awaiting amplification and further revision.
There are two MSS. more or less full of each of the
Xvlil Preface.
following Sermons: Vol. 1. Sermons vu. 1X. X. XI, XIII.
xiv.; Vol. 1. Sermons xxxiv. xxxv.; Vol. m1. Sermons
XXXVII. XXXIX, XL. XLI. XLII, XLII. XLVI. XLIx.; "Vol. Iv:
tu. From these second draughts interesting additions
are given in this Edition; the Table of Contents of each volume indicating where this is the case. Par-
ticular attention is directed to the new matter added
to Sermon xxxix. Vol. m1. on the text, 1 Thess. v. 16,
Rejoice evermore, one of Barrow’s noblest compositions ;
and also to a considerable portion of a second Sermon
on the same text, in a more complete state than some
of the Sermons before mentioned, which is also printed
for the first time. Of the remarkable Sermon xvI. - Vol. u. p. r et seqq. which contains the famous de-
scription of facetiousness, though the copy used by the
printer is wanting, there are two other draughts in the
Trinity College Collection: from one of which the ac-
companying facsimile has been made, which, it will be
observed, is not exactly the same as in the printed text.
The other less perfect copy, presenting this passage in
another less advanced stage, is a striking specimen of the elaborate care bestowed by Barrow on his compo-
sitions.
There are three draughts, more or less complete, of the following: Vol. 1. Sermon vi.; Vol. mr. Sermons XLVI. Xtvu.; Vol. rv. Sermon L.; and of Sermon xxxv1. Vol. u. there are no less than four MS. copies: one in an early state, the other three full; one of them, indeed, even fuller than the copy used by the Printer, from which additions have been given.
Preface. X1X
This short account of the MSS. of several of the Sermons contained in these Volumes will be found, it is believed, both interesting and instructive in itself, and may be viewed as a corroboration of Abraham Hill's statement alluded to above. He speaks, indeed, of Sermons written fowr or five times over: which may be only a vague mode of saying, that of some Sermons several copies existed; but in one case at least, we see, four copies exist of one Sermon; and in all proba- bility he was strictly correct when he speaks even of five casts of the same discourse. Neither also will it be considered strange, if the Trinity College Collection does not furnish this confirmation, when the risks and dangers to which all manuscripts are more or less sub- ject, are remembered.
4 Sermon utxtv. Vol. iv. found by the late Dr Parkinson among the papers of Dr Byrom, while engaged in preparing them for publication in the Chetham Society’s Works, and by him restored to Trinity College, is printed in this Edition for the first time. On the text Coloss. 11. 2, Barrow wrote two, if not more, Sermons; of which the first is the one thus recovered; and the second that entitled, “The Defence of the Blessed Trinity,” not included in Tillotson’s Edi- tion, but first separately published in the year 1697, by Brabazon Aylmer, who prefixed to it a short notice!.
f «Tyr BooksELLER’s ADVERTISEMENT. “This excellent and seasonable Discourse in Defence of the Blessed Trinity, the original copy whereof was found in the late learned Arch-
XX Preface.
II. The more doctrinal portion of Barrow’s Theolo- gical Works, consisting of thirty-three Sermons on the Creed, a Brief Exposition of the Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, the Decalogue, and the Doctrine of the Sacra- ments, is contained in Vols. v.—vu. of this Edition. The Expository Sermons on the Creed, formed the second volume of Tillotson’s Edition, published in 1683 ; the brief Exposition of the Lord’s Prayer, the Deca- logue, the Sacraments, published at first in the year 1682, was also included in the first volume of the same edition: the Brief Exposition on the Creed, though undoubtedly among the MSS. committed to Tillotson’s care, was not printed in his Edition, but published after - his death in the year 1697, by Brabazon Aylmer, with a preface*® vouching for the genuineness of the MS.
Of these the Exposition on the Creed was the earliest composition. By a statute of Trinity College", a Fellow, as a condition of his being appointed “College Preacher,” was bound to observe a certain Hzercise, which consisted in delivering discourses on the Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, the Decalogue, the Sacraments, the bishop Tillotson’s study after his decease; and being among many other duplicate Manuscripts of the late learned Dr Isaac Barrow’s Sermons, was most certainly overlooked by His Grace upon publishing his Works; which might very easily be in so great a number; for Dr Barrow usually writ them several times over before he thought them finished.
“This had his last hand, as may be presumed, being very fair and perfect, and every word of his own writing, which, lest any should doubt of, I have preserved the copy in my own hands, where any one that pleases may sce it, and be satisfied. —B. AYLMER.”
® Prefixed to Vol. vit. of this Edition. » See Dr Whewell’s Observations, Vol. 1x. p. xxxviii.
Preface. 2.3.
Power of the Keys. Barrow was engaged in the year 1669, as we learn from a letter of his to Collins’, in pre- paring for this Exercise; and this shorter Exposition of the Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, &c. was, no doubt in due season, read from time to time in the Chapel of Trinity College. Of the existence of one, and the greater portion of this Hzercise, consisting of the Exposition of the Creed, Tillotson, it would appear, must, at one period at least of his long editorial labours, have been ignorant; for in his short preface), prefixed to the separate publica- tion (1682) of a portion of it, viz. the Exposition of the Lord’s Prayer, the Decalogue, &c., he writes: “It were to be wished, the Creed had also been explained by him in the same manner; but that he hath handled in a larger way In a great many excellent Discourses, upon the several articles of it. These Discourses will make a considerable Treatise, which will in due time be made public.”
The Discourses thus alluded to,—which are, for the most part, amplifications of the arguments of the Ex-. position—were accordingly published in the year 1683. But while preparing them for publication we must infer, that the Exposition of the Creed fell under his notice;
1 6
my business hath hindered me, which hath been imposed on me by the College; ’tis to make Theological Discourses (as our statutes order) upon the chief points of the Catechism (the Creed, Deca- logue, Lord’s Prayer, Sacraments, &c.), which out of term so takes up my thoughts that I cannot easily apply them to any other matter. For I have that imperfection, as not to be able to draw my thoughts easily from one subject to another.”—Correspondence of Scientific Men of the Seventeenth Century, Vol. u. p. 71. Oxford, 1841. ) Prefixed to Vol. vit. of this Edition.
XX Preface.
for in one or two cases, which will be mentioned, he has used portions of it in order to supplement and con- nect the series of these Expository Discourses.
Manuscripts of nearly all these Sermons are among the Trinity College Collection, with which the printed copies have been carefully collated. Collation shews, that fewer liberties have been taken with these Ser- mons, which upon the whole were printed as they were written. Duplicates and triplicates of the MSS. of this series occur also less seldom: of Sermons nu. xvi. Vol. v., xvui. xxvi. Vol. vi., there are two, and of Sermons m1. Vol. v., xxx. xxx. Vol. vi, there are three MS. copies, more or less complete.
In this Edition, Sermon 1. slightly differs at the beginning and the end from the same sermon in Tillot- son’s Edition.
The Introduction of Sermon x. is partly by Tillot- son ; partly a portion of the shorter Exposition.
The Introduction of Sermon xu. is taken verbatim from the Exposition; the MS. begins with the words, “The Creation of the world.”
Sermon xxvr. Vol. vi. forms two Sermons, viz. xxv. xxvr. in Tillotson’s Edition; the second being augmented by a long extract from the shorter Expo- sition, viz. that portion of it, with slight verbal altera- tions, which treats of the words of the Creed under Pontius Pilate, Vol. vit. p. 226—231.
The part of the Exposition, on the Descent into Hell, Tillotson transformed into Sermon xxvut. of his Edition, prefixing to it the text, Acts il. 27. In the
Preface. XXil
present, this will be found in its proper place as a con- stituent portion of the Exposition, Vol. vi. 274—291.
Sermon xxi. on the text, The word was made flesh, is now for the first time printed, from the MS. in the Trinity College Collection. The substance, in- deed, of one part of it is contained in the Sermon which follows: which was, perhaps, the reason why Tillotson thought fit to exclude it from his Edition: but the larger portion of it is both new and import- ant, and of such excellence as to justify the publication of the whole Sermon, notwithstanding the evil of re- petition, which is found too commonly, though from their posthumous character unavoidably, in the works of Barrow.
The Exposition of the Creed, as published by Bra- bazon Aylmer, of all the works of Barrow most needed an Editor’s care and revision; the punctuation was so bad as very often to obscure the sense, and the mis- placement of whole passages rendered the arguments incoherent. A careful collation with the original MS. has brought order and clearness into this Treatise. Repetitions almost without end will be discovered, when the Exposition is compared with the Expository Ser- mons; but the Editor did not consider himself endued with the power of suppression; his duty being to repro- duce with fidelity whatever had undoubted claims to be regarded as the production of Barrow.
Ill. The treatise of the Pope’s Supremacy, and the Discourse on the Unity of the Church, with a short Appendix, form the Eighth Volume.
XX1V Preface.
“This excellent and elaborate Treatise of the Pope’s Supremacy,” says Tillotson, “the learned author gave me particular permission to publish; with this modest character of it, that he hoped it was indifferent perfect, though not altogether as he intended it, if God had granted him longer life.”
The manuscript of this Work,—which imperfect as the author deemed it, has ever been regarded as a monumental work, and is still the unsurpassed treatise on the subject—is not in the Trinity College Collec- tion: nor is it known to exist elsewhere. Portions, indeed, of the arguments, in various forms, are found scattered in sia out of the fifteen volumes composing that Collection; but in no case are these fragments altogether the same with the printed text. In one of these Volumes (bearing the press mark R. ro. 16, of Trinity College Library) there are two early draughts of the Introduction; neither nearly so full as the Text: Volume R. 10. 23 presents two early draughts, one somewhat fuller than the other, of the matter of the first Five of the Seven Suppositions into which the Treatise 1s divided; in both cases cast in the form of a Sermon on the text, Matt. x. 2; and in another Volume (R. 10. 24) there is a yet earlier, very imperfect cast of the same portion, also in the form of a Sermon on that text; Volume R. 10. 19 contains a sketch corresponding to the review of the causes concurring and contributing to the growth of the Papal power, Vol. vil. pp. 400—27 ; Volume RK. ro. 20 has a number of rough notes, many of them erased by Barrow himself; Volume R. 10, 22,
Preface. XXV
containing the largest body of MSS., shews, indeed, abundant proofs of Barrow’s care and industry in pre- paration; but furnishes no continuous portion of the Treatise as printed. The MSS. of this volume shew Supposition vr. cast differently from that form in which Tillotson found and printed it. This account of the MSS. is rendered necessary by the somewhat ambi- guous notice prefixed to the Edition of this Treatise published in the year 1851, by the Society for Pro- moting Christian Knowledge, which seems to profess collation with the original MS.; and it will also serve, in some faint way, to exhibit the vast labour, which in this, as in all his other works, Barrow bestowed on his compositions.
In this Edition, therefore, the Treatise of the Papal Supremacy, and the Discourse on the Unity of the Church, of which no MS. in any form exists, are reproduced, as far as the text is concerned, from the first Edition; with one exception, that the paragraphs I. 2, pp. 292—295, misplaced in former Editions, are here restored to their proper place, in accordance with the suggestion of the Rev. Frederic Field, late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, adopted for the first time in the Edition, above mentioned, of the Christian Knowledge Society.
The Appendix entitled “Some Observations on the Synod and Canons of Sardica,” &c., was first printed in the Edition just alluded to; but these do not form a substantive treatise on the subject, as its Editor seems to imagine; but are merely sections,
B.S. VOL. I. c
XXvl Preface.
numbered xv. xvi. xvii, of a draught of Supposition vi. cast in a different form from that of the printed text: and these numbers shew, that the observations extend to three different points—the Synod of Sardica; the transactions at Sirmium, Ancyra, &c.; the passages concerning Pope Liberius.
Special pains and labour have been bestowed in verifying the very numerous quotations of this import- ant Volume. Every passage cited has been regarded as incorrect, till proved otherwise by comparison with the original. In many cases, both in the Treatise of the Pope’s Supremacy and the Discourse on the Unity of the Church, the passages referred to are merely indicated by Barrow; in this Edition they are given at full length, in all cases where they do not exceed the due proportions of a note. Quotations from the Councils of the Church, and from Epistles of Popes, which abound throughout the volume, have been verified not only in the Collection of Councils used by Barrow—that of Severinus Binius, the best and fullest known in Barrow’s age—but also in the latest and most authoritative, Cardinal Mansi’s. So that the Notes, verified as they have been, will be found to present a body of original passages, from the most various and authentic sources, bearing on the subject of the Papal Supremacy.
Prefixed to the Volume is an Analytical Summary of the contents of the Treatise of the Papal Supremacy, which, the Editor believes, will render its full and varied matter more accessible and available to the student.
Preface. XXVll
IV. The Opuscula, consisting for the most part of Academical Exercises, and the Latin Poems, are printed in Vol. 1x. of the present Edition. The disorder which prevailed in the arrangement of its contents, as well as the abundance of false readings found throughout it, seem to justify the inference, that this volume had not the benefit of Tillotson’s careful supervision. In the absence of positive information we are led to conjecture, that as his father’s partiality may have prompted the publication of everything which came from the hand of his celebrated son, so his eye alone watched the sheets as they passed through the press*.
In this Edition a new arrangement has been
adopted. The Opuscula and Poemata have been, as far
K The following original letter of his Father, Thomas Barrow, ac- companied in all probability a presentation-copy of the Fourth Volume to Dr Montague, the Master of Trinity College.
“To Dr Montague.
“Though under the infirmity of eighty and seven years, yet I have a memory ready to acknowledge your kindness to my son, the author. When he was, as it were, a child, exposed on the banks of the river Cam, Trinity College (Regia Proles) afforded him the love of a parent and the instruction of a tutor. Whom you received a distressed child, you returned a man accomplished with so great a share of that learning and merit, for which your Society is renowned, as fitted him for the honour of being Master of such a College. But so it pleased God that death seized him absent from his beloved seat. Wherefore give me leaye to fancy this posthumous work as it were his ghost wandering towards the accustomed place, and, as far as he and I can, attending on his dear friends.
“Tam, &e. “T. BARROW.” Philosophical Papers collected by Abraham Hill, British Museum Cat. 2903, art. 31. C2
XXVill Preface.
as possible, placed in chronological order; the grosser blunders and false readings have been amended; and short explanatory notes have been added where deemed necessary. These improvements are almost exclusively due to Dr Whewell, the Master of Trinity College, who has also enriched this Edition with Observations on Barrow’s Academical Times, as illustrated in his Latin Works, which have been prefixed to the Volume which furnished the illustrations.
The second Epistle to the Master and Fellows of Trinity College, pp. 120—127, sent by Barrow from Constantinople, in the year 1658, was not included in
the first Edition; but was first published in Ray’s.
Philosophical Letters, edited by W. Derham, London, 1718.
Some pieces, thrown in, in the strangest manner, among the Opuscula in the first Edition, have been in this excluded, as having no claim to appear among Barrow’s works; these are, The Superstition of the Turks; An English and Italian Glossary of certain Turkish Terms; A series of Turkish Proverbs; and A true Relation of the Designs managed by the old Queen Wife of Sultan Ahmed, written by Albert Bohovius.
V. The Ninth Volume also contains two Disserta- tions, and some Sermons and Fragments attributed to Barrow; which formed the volume edited (1834) by the Rev. J. P. Lee, formerly Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, now Bishop of Manchester: of these some account must be given.
The two Dissertations are in this Edition placed
Preface. RIX
first. The MS. of the First entitled, Relating to the Dissenters, is contained in the volume of the Trinity College MSS. with the class mark, R. 10. 19; and is undoubtedly in Barrow’s handwriting. The very cast of the MS. vouches for its authenticity ; the arguments are arranged under several heads, and spaces are left for new matter—Barrow’s mode of composing, as evinced in many instances throughout the MSS. The sentiments and the style also bear the stamp of Barrow’s mind and manner. This Dissertation may therefore be regarded as a genuine fragment.
The Second entitled, Whether the Damned after the Last Judgment shall live in Everlasting Torments or be utterly destroyed? found in the same MS. volume as the preceding, is also in Barrow’s handwriting; but it is strange the Editor of that volume failed to perceive its true character—viz. that it is a transcript made by Barrow, who in his own hand has written on the fly- leaf, Tract. Anon. de Panis Infernalibus. Another copy of the same Essay, found among the papers of Ward, the author of the Lives of the Gresham Professors, pre- served in the British Museum, seems to settle the question of its authorship. In the Ward MS. it is entitled, Arcanum Theologicum. A sceptical Discourse concerning the torments of Hell, by N. N. [Mr White- Joot of Norwich|. With this transcript, Barrow’s has been compared; and the variations of the former from the latter are given in the portions printed within brackets. The collation of these two MSS. shews also, that Barrow had not entirely transcribed the
75x Preface.
treatise; though the redundant leaves of his MS. seem to imply that he intended to complete it. It is curious, that Tillotson’s name was also connected with this Dissertation in a manner which still further identifies it. As Dean of St Paul’s he preached, as his biographer Birch relates, before their Majesties, a Sermon on the Eternity of Hell Torments!, which gave rise to a great clamour against him. “Dr Hickes,” the Non-juror, Birch relates, “discharges all the venom of his pen against this wretched sermon, as he styles it, calling out upon the Convocation to censure it,...and suggesting, that the reasoning of it was borrowed from a manu- script discourse upon the same subject, still extant, which Dr Hickes owns he had never seen, written by an old sceptic of Norwich™,”—by whom, as Birch adds, was meant the Reverend John Whitefoot, Rector of Heigham near Norwich. There can be little doubt, that the treatise here alluded to by Dr Hickes in his coarse invective against Tillotson, is the one of which Barrow made a transcript, and which, for obvious rea- sons, was circulated only in MS. among the Theo- logians of that Age. The Latin Notes appended to the Dissertation are Barrow’s, which, as they express his opinions on this doctrinal question, furnish its claim to a place among his Works.
Of the Sermons attributed on doubtful grounds to Barrow, the first four, published by the Bishop of
' This Sermon is found in Vol. 1. p. 321 et seqq. of Birch’s Edition. London, 1752. ™ Tillotson’s Works, Vol. 1. p. Ixy. (ed. 1752).
Preface. 3 Sal
Manchester and republished here, are contained in a small volume, hitherto included among the collection of Barrow’s MSS., belonging to Trinity College. The only external evidence on which these have been assigned to Barrow, is this note written on the fly- leaf: “ Dr Isaac Barrow’s Sermons, preached in 1676; preached by him. These Sermons are not in print.” Mr Joseph Netherclift, to whose judgment this volume was submitted, thus reports on the character of the MS.: This is a curious volume, chiefly written in a large, half-print, round text hand, in Roman capitals, shewing the study and attention of one who has devoted much time and care to the simple mechanical art of writing, perhaps a schoolmaster or a clerk; the work of a copyist, and not of Barrow". It is, indeed, incon- ceivable that Barrow, whose own handwriting is a model of neatness and clearness, should either himself have adopted, or have employed another to adopt a character which would torture the strongest powers of vision to read continuously. But the Sermons them- selves are the conclusive argument against their ge- nuineness. It would scarcely be possible to find in the whole range of sermon-literature any productions more utterly unlike Barrow’s than the four printed from this MS. volume. Let the second of these be compared with two on the same text, Vol. m. Sermons xxv. XXvI., which are undoubtedly genuine, and that com- parison alone will leave hardly a doubt on the mind, that the same person who wrote the latter, could not " Abridged from Mr Netherclift’s MS. Report.
XXXi Preface.
have written the former Sermon, which in argument is so incoherent, and in style so full of feeble conceits and affectations. Is it possible,—to take one passage, which may be regarded as a specimen of the average matter and style of these Discourses,—that Barrow could have written and spoken this mere rant?
“Tt was the express declaration of our Lord in the penitent womans case. ‘Her sins which are many are forgiven, for she loved much. She wrote her love there with tears; she wrote and blotted out, and dropped ano- ther tear and wrote again. Solicitous lest she had ea- pressed her affection too well, she would express it worse. She wiped her tears again, as if at once she would be liberal and sparing too, seeming to fear lest, of her stock of tears were spent too soon, she should not weep enough. She would not wipe her eyes, she only wiped her Sa- viour’s feet, as if her hairs recalled those waters to thevr fountain head, that they might bubble there a second tume°,” &e.
The Editor cannot but express his conviction, that it would be not less than an affront to Barrow’s name, to attribute to him compositions of the character of these four Sermons.
The remaining Sermons and Fragments, printed in that volume, are from MSS. belonging to the Univer- sity Library, Cambridge; the volume forming part of the Library of Bishop Moor, purchased at his death, and presented to the University by George I. The external evidence for their genuineness is even of a
° Vol, Ix. pp. 622, 623.
Preface. XXxlll
more slender character than that which could be claim- ed for the former: “ Hic liber, ut ex manu videtur, fuit virr ilustrissimt Isaact Barrow.” ‘The identity of the handwriting of this MS. volume with Barrow’s is, then, the sole ground upon which it has been assigned to him. Myr Netherclift, to whom this volume also has been submitted, is of opinion, that it presents spe- cimens of the handwriting of at least two different persons, but none of Barrow’s’. Neither does the ex- ternal evidence, somewhat shattered if not overthrown by this opinion, receive any support from the intrinsic ability and power of these Sermons and Fragments; which, if they be free from the extravagances which not seldom occur in the former, are yet uniformly dull and common-place, and present not a single passage bearing the impress of that full, vigorous, massive style, which at once identifies the prose of Barrow, amid the prose of all the great writers of the Language.
These, indeed, may seem sound arguments for the exclusion of these sermons, but it has been deemed ex- pedient to publish them; and readers may determine, according to their own judgment, the question of their authenticity.
Much inquiry and research have added but little to what was already known of Barrow from the brief Memoir by his friend Abraham Hill, prefixed to the first Edition of the Works. Three original letters, and
P Substance of Mr Netherclift’s Report.
XXXIV Preface.
a few particulars regarding Barrow from unpublished sources, were the discouraging results and rewards of years of laborious search. On such a foundation the Editor ‘considered it useless to attempt to construct a life of Barrow on a more extended scale; he has, therefore, contented himself with reprinting Abraham Hill’s sketch, with such slight additional materials as he has been able to collect.
The General Index will be found, it is hoped, both
full and exact for all purposes of reference.
The pleasing task now remains to the Editor of
thanking those persons, who have aided him in his
labours.
And first and specially he offers his grateful thanks to the Master and Senior Fellows of Trinity College, who have entrusted him for so long a period with the inter- esting collection of the Barrow MSS.; feeling, as he does, that whatever of novelty, or interest, or com- pleteness, may be found in the present, above any preceding Edition, is to be attributed to the free use he has thus been permitted to make of them. To Dr Whewell, the Master of the College, the Editor is under many obligations for his active sympathy and support throughout the progress of the Edition.
In the laborious task of verifying the quotations, abounding in Barrow’s works, from books both rare and bulky, the Editor has received much welcome assistance; particularly from Dr Corrie, the Master of Jesus College, who, with unfailing courtesy and kind-
Preface. KER
ness, has on many occasions rendered him great ser- vice; and also from the following gentlemen, J. B. Mayor, Esq., Fellow of St John’s College, Cambridge, the Rev. James Tillard, Rector of Conington, and the Rev. Canon Collyer, Rector of Warham.
In the Appendix (O) to the Life by Abraham Hill, a document of some interest—viz. the legal agree- ment between Thomas Barrow and Brabazon Aylmer, negotiating the sale of the copyright of a portion of Barrow’s works—has been supplied by the Rev. Henry John Rose, late Fellow of St John’s College, Cam- bridge, Rector of Houghton Conquest, who has most kindly copied it from a volume of literary curiosities bequeathed to the Parish by a former Rector, Dr Zachary Gray. An additional reason might be found, if needed, for its publication, in this curious fact in Literary History, which it brings to light; viz. that within fifteen years after the sale of the copyright of Milton’s Paradise Lost to Samuel Symons, the printer, for the sum of five pounds, no less than four hundred and seventy pounds were given for the copyright of the first folio Volume of Tillotson’s Edition of Barrow’s Works.
His thanks are due to the Rev. Joseph Romilly, Registrar of the University, who very opportunely pre- vented him from reproducing in the additions to the Life, the letter published as Barrow’s, in the Cambridge Portfolio, Vol. 1. p. 71, by a person signing axon; which letter was written in the name of the Vice-Chancellor Dr Some and the Senate to Robert Hare, on the ist
XXXVI Preface.
of May, 1591, 1. e. about forty years before Barrow was born.
For the original letter of Barrow to Sir Joseph Williamson, printed in Appendix (KX) to the Life, he is indebted to the Rev. Joseph Edleston, Fellow of Trinity College.
The Editor also desires to thank C. H. Cooper, Esq. Town Clerk of Cambridge, for many hints and direc- tions in conducting his researches.
Nor can he omit gratefully to mention the valuable aid and kind offices he has so frequently received from C. J. Clay, Esq. the Manager of the Pitt Press, who
combines, as in days of old, the functions of a printer
with the accomplishments of a scholar.
ALEXANDER NAPIER.
SOME. ACCOOUN T
OF
Subic lee adele
OF
Di isk AC. DA RR OW:
TO THE
REV. DR TILLOTSON, DEAN OF CANTERBURY.
SIR,
HE affection of friends, or interest of the bookseller, has
made it usual to prefix the Life of an Author before his works ; and sometimes it is a care very necessary to give him a high and excellent character, the better to protect his writings against that censoriousness and misconstruction to which all are subject. What Dr Barrow has left, do as little as any need such an advantage, standing firm on their own worth; nay, his Works may supply the want of a history of his life, if the reader take along with him this general remark, that his Sermons were the counterpart of his actions; therein he has drawn the true picture of himself, so that in them being dead he yet speaketh, or rather, ts spoken of’. Yet we the readers do gladly entertain any hopes of seeing his example added to his doctrine, and we think we express some kind of gratitude for your reviewing, digest- ing, and publishing his Sermons, if we desire from you his Life too. His Sermons have cost you so much pains, as would have produced many more of your own; if now his Life should ask a farther part of your time, it were still
a Heb, xi. 4. marg.
XXXVI Some Account of the
promoting the same ends, the doctor's honour, and the public good. What memorials I can recollect, I here present you, that when you have refined this ore, it may be admitted as my offering toward his statue. What may be said would have had a stronger impression upon our passions, when they were moved upon the first news of so great a loss; or per- haps it were best to forbear till the publication of all his Works, when the reader will be farther prepared to admire him. But I proceed in the order of time, that the other par- ticulars occurring to your memory, or suggested by other friends, may more readily find their proper place, and so give the better lustre to one another: and this I think the fitter to be observed, because the harmonious, regular, constant tenor of his life is the most admirable thing in it. For though a life full of variety, and even of contrariety, were more easy to be writ, and to most more pleasant to be read, it less deserves to be imitated.
Dr Isaac Barrow was the son of Mr Thomas Barrow, (a citizen of London of good reputation” yet living, brother to Isaac Barrow, late Lord Bishop of St Asaph*,) son of Isaac Barrow, Esq. of Spiny Abbey in Cambridgeshire, (where he was a justice of peace for forty years,) son of Philip Barrogh, who has in print a Method of Physic, and had a brother, Isaac Barrow, doctor of physic, a benefactor to Trinity Col- lege, and there tutor to Robert Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, and Lord Treasurer’.
He was born in London, October, 1630°: his mother was Ann, daughter of William Buggin, of North Cray in Kent, Esquire; whose tenderness he did not long enjoy, she dying when he was about four years old.
> Appendix (A). e Appendix (B). * Appendix (C), © Appendix (D).
Life of Dr Barrow. XXXIX
His first schooling was at the Charter-house for two or three years, when his greatest recreation was in such sports as brought on fighting among the boys: in his aftertime a very great courage remained, whereof many instances might be set down; yet he had perfectly subdued all inclination to quarrelling, but a negligence of his clothes did always con- tinue with him. For his book, he minded it not; and his father had little hope of success in the profession of a scholar, to which he had designed him. Nay, there was then so little appearance of that comfort which his father afterward received from him, that he often solemnly wished, that if it pleased God to take away any of his children, it might be his son Isaac: so vain a thing is man’s judgment, and our pro- vidence unfit to guide our own affairs.
Removing thence to Felsted in Essex, he quickly made so great a progress in learning and all things praiseworthy, that his master appointed him a little tutor to the Lord Viscount Fairfax, of Emely, in Ireland. While he stayed here, he was admitted in Peter-house, his uncle the Bishop’s college’, but when he removed to (and was fit for) the University of Cambridge, Feb. 1645, he was planted in Trinity College. His condition was very low, his father having suffered much in his estate on account of adhering to the king’s cause; and being gone away from London to Oxford, his chief support at first was from the liberality of the famous and reverend Dr Hammond, to whose memory he paid his thanks in an excellent Epitaph, (among his Poems‘,) wherein he describes the doctor and himself too; for the most, and most noble, parts of the character do exactly agree to them both. Being now, as it were, without relations, he abused not the opportunity to negligence in his studies,
f Appendix (E). & Works, Vol. IX. p. 540.
xl Some Account of the
or licentiousness in his manners, but seasoned his tender years with the principles and the exercise of diligence, learning, and piety, the best preparatives for the succeeding varieties of life.
The young man continued such a royalist, that he would never take the Covenant; yet carrying himself with fairness, candour, and prudence, he gained the good-will of the chief governors of the University. One day Dr Hill, Master of the College", laying his hand on his head, said, Thow art a good lad; ’tis pity thow art a cavalier: and when in an Oration on the Gunpowder-Treason' he had so celebrated the former times, as to reflect much on the present, some Fellows were provoked to move for his expulsion; but the Master silenced them with this; Barrow is a better man - than any of us. Afterward, when “the Engagement*” was imposed, he subscribed it; but upon second thoughts, repenting of what he had done, he went back to the Com- missioners, and declared his dissatisfaction, and got his name rased out of the list.
For the juniors, he was always ready to give them his help, and very freely; though for all the exercises he made for them in verse and prose he never received any recom- pense but one pair of gloves.
While he was yet a young scholar, his judgment was too great to rest satisfied with the shallow and superficial Phy- siology then commonly taught and received in the universi- ties, wherewith students of meaner abilities contentedly took up: but he applied himself to the reading and considering the writings of the Lord Verulam’, Monsieur Descartes™,
h Appendix (F).
§ Vol. 1x. pp. 48—78. See also Dr Whewell’s Notice, &c. pp. viii—ix.
k Appendix (G).
| Cf. Cartes. Hypoth. Works, Vol. 1x. pp. 86, 96, 97. ™ Cf. Vol. 1x. p. 81, et seqq.; p. 441, et seqq.
Life of Dr Barrow. xli
Galileo, and other the great wits of the last age, who seemed to offer something more solid and substantial.
When the time came that he could be chosen Fellow of his College, Ann. Dom. 1649", he obtained by his merit; no- thing else could recommend him who was accounted of the contrary party. After his election, finding the times not fa- vourable to men of his opinion in the affairs of Church and State, to qualify him (as he then thought) to do most good, he designed the profession of physic, and for some years bent his studies that way, and particularly made a great pro- gress in the knowledge of Anatomy, Botanics, and Chymistry. But afterward, upon deliberation with himself, and con- ference with his uncle, the late Lord Bishop of St Asaph, thinking that profession not well consistent with the oath he had taken when admitted Fellow, to make Divinity the end of his studies, he quitted Medicine, and applied himself chiefly to what his oath seemed to oblige him.
He was upon all opportunities so open and communica- tive, that many of his friends in that College (for out of it he had few acquaintance) can, and I hope some one will, re- port frequent instances of his calm temper in a factious time, his large charity in a mean estate, his facetious talk upon fit occasions, his indefatigable industry in various studies, his clear judgment on all arguments, his steady virtue in all difficulties, which they must often have observed, and can better describe.
Of his way of discourse I shall here note one thing, that, when his opinion was demanded, he did usually speak to the importance as well as to the truth of the question: this was
= He was elected scholar in 1647, and took his degree of B.A. in 1649. In 1652 he commenced M.A., and on the 12th of June in the following year he was incorporated in that degree at Oxford. Ward. Wood.
rn 0) d
xii Some Account of the
an excellent advantage, and to be met with in few men’s conversation.
Tractare res multi norunt, estimare pauci. CARDAN.
While he read Scaliger on Eusebius, he perceived the de- pendence of Chronology on Astronomy, which put him on the study of Ptolemys Aldmagest; and finding that book and all Astronomy to depend on Geometry, he applied him- self to Euclid’s Hlements, not satisfied till he had laid firm foundations; and so he made his first entry into the Mathe- matics, having the learned Mr John Ray°® then for his soctus studiorum, and always for his esteemed friend: he pro- ceeded to the demonstration of the other ancient Mathe- maticians, and published his Huclid in a less form and a clearer method than any one had done before him: at the end of his demonstration of Apollonius he has writ, ie Intra hee temporis intervalla peractum hoc opus. To so much diligence nothing was impossible: and in all his studies his way was not to leave off his design till he brought it to effect; only in the Arabic language he made an essay for a little while, and then deserted it. In the same place having also writ, Labore et constantia, he adds, bone si conjungantur humilitati et subministrent charitati. With these speculations the largeness of his mind could join poetry, to which he was always addicted, and very much valued that part thereof which consists of description; but the hyperboles of some modern Poets he as much slighted: for our Plays, he was an enemy to them, as a principal cause of the debauchery of these times; (the other causes he thought to be the French education and the ill examples
° Ward corroborates this statement, on the authority of Dr Worthington’s Letter to Mr Hartlib, Febr. 14, 1654, MS. Mr Worthington’s. This letter does not appear to be included in The Diary and Correspondence of Dr Worthington, edited for the Chetham Society by James Crossley, Esq.
Life of Dr Barrow. xhu
of great persons;) for satires, he writ none; his wit was pure and peaceable.
When Dr Duport resigned the chair of Greek professor, he recommended this his pupil for his successor, who jus- tified his tutor’s opinion by an excellent performance of the probation exercise; but being thought inclined to Armini- anism, he obtained it not: however, he always acknowledged the favour which Dr Whichcote shewed him on that, as on all occasions. The partiality of others against him in that affair some thought might help forward his desire to see foreign countries. I make no doubt, but that he, who in lesser occurrences did very judiciously consider all circum- stances, had on good grounds made this resolution, and wish we now knew them; for the reasons and counsels of action would take off from the dryness of this narration, and more strongly recommend him to imitation.
To provide for his voyage, Ann. Dom. 1654, he sold his books, and went first into France?: at Paris he found his father attending the English court, and out of his small vati- cum made him a seasonable present. He gave his College an account of his voyage thither, which will be found among his Poems?; and some further observations in a letter’, which will shew his piercing judgment in political affairs, when he applied his thoughts that way.
After some months he went to Italy, and made a stay at Florence; where he had the favour, and neglected not the advantage, to peruse many books in the great Duke’s Library, and ten thousand of his Medals, and discourse thereon with Mr Fitton, the fame of whose extraordinary abilities in that sort of learning had caused the Duke to invite him to the charge of that great treasury of antiquity’.
P Appendix (H). 9 Vol. IX. pp. 444—457.
r Vol. IX. pp. I1I—119. ® Dr Pope understood this passage as if the Grand Duke (at Mr Fitton’s recom-
d2
xliv Some Account of the
Florence was too dear a place for him to remain in long*: his desire was to visit Rome, rather than any other place; but the plague then raging there, he took ship at Livorn, (Noy. 1657) for Smyrna", where he made himself most wel- come to Consul Bretton*, and the merchants; and so at Con- stantinople to Sir Thomas Bendish, the English Ambassador, and Sir Jonathan Daws, from whose civility he received many favours; and there ever after continued between them an intimate friendship.
As he could presently learn to play at all games, so he could accommodate his discourse to all capacities, that it should be grateful and profitable; he could argue a point without arrogance or passion to convince the learned, and could talk pleasantly to the entertainment of easier minds, yet still maintaining his own character, which had some such authority as is insinuated in these words of Cicero to Atticus (Ep. xx. 1.14): Non te Bruti nostri vulticulus ab ista ora- tione deterret ?
At Constantinople’, the see of St Chrysostom, he read over all the works of that Father, whom he much preferred before any of the others, and remained in Turkey above a mendation) had offered Barrow the keepership of his Medals ;—not the only in- stance of his inaccuracy.—Pope’s Life of Seth Ward, p. 134.
t Ward (Lives of Gresham Professors, p. 159), on the authority of a MS. letter of Worthington to Hartlib, of the date Aug. 5, 1656, states that at Florence he was generously aided with means to prosecute his travels by Mr James Stock, a young merchant of London, to whom he dedicated his edition of Euclid’s Data, published 1657; and whose premature death he deplores in the letter written from Constantinople printed for the first time in the Appendix (I).
" The incidents of the voyage from Leghorn to Constantinople are described in the Iter Maritimum (Vol. 1x. pp. 458—480), sent from Constantinople to the Master and Fellows of Trinity.
* An elegy on his death is found among the Poemata, Vol. IX. pp. 511—514.
y From Constantinople he wrote another letter to the Master and Fellows of Trinity, (Vol. 1x. 120—127), which was first published in Ray’s Philosophical Let- ters, edited by Derham, Lond. 1718, and in which he gives an account of the poli-
tical state of Turkey. With this letter he sent also the Poem De Religione Turcica (pp. 481—5 10).
—_—_
Life of Dr Barrow. xlv
year”. Returning thence to Venice, as soon as he was landed, the ship took fire, and with all the goods was burnt, but none of the people had any harm. He came thence home? through Germany and Holland; and some part of these travels and observations are also related in his Poems.
The term of time was now somewhat past, before which all Fellows of Trinity College are by the oath obliged to take upon them priestly orders, or quit the College: he had no rest in his mind till he got himself ordained”, notwithstanding the times were then very unsettled, the Church of England at a very low ebb, and circumstances much altered from what they were when he took the oath, wherewith others satisfied thentselves in the neglect of orders.
When the Church and State flourished upon the King’s restoration, his friends expected great things for him who had suffered and deserved so much: yet nothing came; so that he was sensible enough to say, (which he has not left among his Poems,)
Te magis optavit rediturum, Carole, nemo,
Et nemo sensit te rediisse minus.
1660, he was without a competitor chosen‘ to the Greek Professorship in Cambridge; of which I can only say, that some friend (to himself I mean) thought fit to borrow, and never to restore those Lectures’.
7 Appendix (I). a In 1659.
> By Brownrigg bishop of Exeter, and Master of Catherine Hall, who, after being ejected from his see by the parliament, lived in retirement at Sunning in Berkshire.
¢ His Inaugural Oration as Greek Professor is in Vol. Ix. pp. 137—154.
4 Ward (Lives of Gresham Professors, p. 160) states, on the authority of a MS. letter of Worthington to Hartlib, of the date Oct. 21, 1661, that at first he chose Sophocles as the subject of his Lectures; but afterwards selected Aristotle’s Rhetoric. This appears also by the Oratio Sarcasmica, Vol. 1X. p. 155.
xlvi Some Account of the
July 16, 1662°, he was chosen to the Geometry Lecture at Gresham College, vacant by the death of Mr Laurence Rook. Dr Wilkins, who, while Trinity College had the happiness of his Mastership, throughly observed and much esteemed him, and was always zealous to promote worthy men and generous designs, did interpose vigorously for his assistance, well know- ing that few others could fill the place of such a predecessor ; he not only discharged the duty incumbent on him, but sup- plied the absence of his learned colleague, Dr Pope, Astro- nomy Professor; and among other of his Lectures were divers of the Projections of the Sphere; which he lent out also, and many other papers we hear no more of. He so well answered all expectation, and performed what Dr Wilkins had under- taken for him, that when (1663') Mr Lucas founded a Mathe- matic Lecture at Cambridge, the same good and constant friend recommended him to the executors, Mr Raworth and Mr Buck, who very readily conferred on him that employ- ment: and the better to secure the end of so noble and use- ful a foundation, he took care that himself and successors should be bound to leave yearly to the University ten written Lectures; and those of his which have been, and others yet to be printed, will best give an account how well he acquitted himself of that service’. But after that learned piece Geo- metriccee Lectiones had been some while in the world, he had heard only of two persons that had read it through; these
© His Inaugural Lecture is given Vol. 1x. pp. 170—188.
‘ On the twentieth of May in this same year he was elected a fellow of the Royal Society, in the first choice made by the council after their charter.—Ward, Lives, p. 160.
® His Prefatory Oration, spoken in the Mathematical School, March 14, 1664, is still extant, and may be seen pp. 189—212. On the 20th of May of the same year he resigned his Gresham Professorship. Ward (p. 161) intimates, that about this time also, he held for a short time the care of the Cottonian Library ; which he resigned, desiring to settle at Cambridge.
Life of Dr Barrow. xlvii
two were Monsieur Slusius of Liege, and Mr Gregory of Scot- land, two that might be reckoned instead of thousands: yet the little relish that such things met with did help to loosen him from these speculations, and the more engage his inclina- tion to the study of Morality and Divinity, which had always been so predominant, that when he commented on Archi- medes, he could not forbear to prefer and admire much more Suarez for his book De Legibus: and before his Apollonius I find written this divine ejaculation:
‘O cos yewperpet.
Tu autem, Domine, quantus es geometra? quum enim hee scientia nullos terminos habeat; cum in sempiternum novorum theorematum inventioni locus relinquatur, etiam penes humanum ingenium, tu uno hee omnia intutu per- specta habes, absque catena consequentiarum, absque teedio demonstrationum. Ad cetera pene nihil facere potest intel- lectus noster; et tanquam brutorum phantasia videtur non nisi incerta quedam somniare, unde in tis quot sunt homines tot existunt fere sententie: in his conspiratur ab omnibus, in his humanum ingenium se posse aliquid, imo ingens ali- quid e& mirificum visum est, ut nihil magis mirum; quod enim in cceteris pene ineptum in hoc efficax, sedulum, pros- perum, de. Te igitur vel ex hac re anare gaudeo, te sus- picor, atque illum diem desiderare suspiriis fortibus, in quo purgata mente et claro oculo non hee solum omnia absque hac successiva et laboriosa imaginandi cura, verum multo plura et majora ex tua bonitate et immensissima sanctissi- maque benignitate conspicere et scire concedetur, &e.
The last kindness and honour he did to his Mathematic Chair was to resign it (1669) to so worthy a friend and suc- cessor as Mr Isaac Newton, fixing his resolution to apply himself entirely to divinity; and he took a course very
xlviil Some Account of the
convenient for his public person as a preacher, and his pri- vate as a Christian; for those subjects which he thought most important to be considered for his own use, he cast into the method of sermons for the benefit of others, and herem was so exact, as to write some of them four or five times over". And now he was only a fellow of Trinity College, till my Lord Bishop of St Asaph gave him a small sinecure in Wales, and the Right Reverend Seth, Lord Bishop of Salis- bury (who very much valued his conversation), a Prebend in his church; the advantages of both which he bestowed in a way of charity, and parted with them as soon as he was made Master of his College (1672'), he and his relations being by that time out of a necessitous condition: the patent for
his Mastership being so drawn for him, as it had been for -
some others, with permission to marry, he caused to be altered, thinking it not agreeable with the statutes, from which he desired no dispensation.
He had hitherto possessed but a scanty estate, which yet was made easy to him by a contented mind, and not made a trouble by envy at more plentiful fortunes: he could in patience possess his soul when he had little else; and now with the same decency and moderation could maintain his character under the temptations of prosperity.
When the King advanced him to this dignity, he was pleased to say, he had given it to the best scholar in Eng- land: his Majesty had several times done him the honour to discourse him, and this preferment was not at all obtained by faction or flattery; it was the King’s own act, though his desert made those of the greatest power forward to contribute
b See Preface, pp. xvi—xviii.
' In 1670 he was created Doctor of Divinity by mandate. His patent of the mastership bears date February 13, 1672: and he was admitted the 27th of the same month,
Life of Dr Barrow. xlix
to it, particularly Gilbert, Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Duke of Buckingham, then Chancellor of Cambridge, and formerly a member of Trinity College.
It were a disrespect to his College to doubt that where he had spent so much time, and obliged so many persons, he should not be most welcome: they knew, as his power increased, the effects of his goodness would do so too; and the Senior Fellows so well understood and esteemed him, that with good-will and joy they received a Master much younger than any of themselves.
Besides the particular assistance he gave to many in their study, he concerned himself in everything that was for the interest of his College“. Upon the single affair of building their Library, he writ out quires of paper, chiefly to those who had been of the College, first to engage them, and then to give them thanks, which he never omitted. These letters he esteemed not enough to keep copies of!; but by the generous returns they brought in, they appeared to be of no small value: and those gentlemen that please to send back their letters will deserve to be accounted further bene- factors to the Library. He had always been a constant and early man at the Chapel, and now continued to do the same; and was therein encouraged, not only by his own devotion, but by the efficacy his example had upon many others of his College.
In this place, seated to his ease and satisfaction, a station wherein of all others in the world he could have been most useful, and which he meant not to make use of as a step to ascend higher, he abated nothing of his studies; he yielded the day to his public business, and took from his morning sleep many hours, to increase his stock of Sermons, and write
k Appendix (K). ' Appendix (L).
] Some Account of the
his Treatise of the Pope’s Supremacy. He understood Popery both at home and abroad; he had narrowly observed it militant in England, triumphant in Italy, disguised in France; and had earlier apprehensions than most others of the approaching danger, and would have appeared with the forwardest in a needful time: for his engagement in that case, and his place in your friendship, I would (with the leave of the most worthy Dean of St Paul’s, his highly respected friend) call him another Dr Stillingfleet.
But so it pleased God, that being invited to preach the Passion-Sermon, April 13, 1677, at Guildhall Chapel, (and it was the second Sermon for which he received a pecuniary recompence,) he never preached but once more, falling sick of a fever: such a distemper he had onée or twice before, otherwise of a constant health: this fatally prevailed against the skill and diligence of many physicians his good friends™.
I think not myself competent to give an account of his life, much less of his sickness and death: if great grief had not forced silence, you, Sir, his dearest and most worthy friend, had perpetuated the remarkables of that sad scene, in a Funeral Sermon.
Our passions, which have hitherto been kept within the banks, should now be permitted to overflow, and they even expect to be moved by a breath of eloquence; but that is not my talent. In short, his death was suitable to his life; not this imperfect, slight life, as I relate it, but that admirable, heroic, divine life which he lived.
He died the 4th of May, 1677; and had it not been too inconvenient to carry him to Cambridge, then wit and elo- quence had paid their tribute for the honour he has done
them. ™ Appendix (M),
Life of Dr Barrow. hi
Now he is laid in Westminster Abbey, with a monument erected by the contribution of his friends, a piece of gratitude not usual in this age, and a respect peculiar to him among all the glories of that Church. I wish they would (as I have adventured) bring in their symbols toward the history of his life: there are many which long before me had the advantage of his conversation, and could offer more judicious observa- tions, and in a style fit to speak of Dr Barrow.
In the Epitaph", Dr Mapletoft’, his much esteemed friend, doth truly describe him. His picture was never made from the life, and the effigies on his tomb doth little resemble him. He was in person of the lesser size, and lean; of extra- ordinary strength, of a fair and calm complexion, a thin skin, very sensible of the cold; his eyes grey, clear, and somewhat short-sighted; his hair of a light auburn, very fine and curling. He is well represented by the figure of Marcus Brutus on his denarii; and I will transfer hither what is said of that great man.
Virtue was thy life’s centre, and from thence Did silently and constantly dispense The gentle vigorous influence To all the wide and fair circumference. CoWLEY.
The estate he left was books; those he bought, so well chosen as to be sold for more than they cost; and those he made, whereof a catalogue is annexed’: and it were not improper to give a further account of his works than to name them: beside their number, variety, method, style, fulness, and usefulness, I might thence draw many proofs to confirm what I have before endeavoured to say to his advantage, and many more important reflections will be obvious to you, than to such a reader as Tam. I will only take leave to say, that for his little piece of The Unity of the Church, he
0 Printed at the conclusion of this Memoir. ° Appendix (N). P Appendix (0),
hii Some Account of the
has better deserved of the Church and Religion, than many who make a greater figure in Ecclesiastic History and Politics. But such remarks will be more fitly placed in what we expect from his learned friends of the University. And to them I must also refer for the observables at the taking his several Degrees, and discharging the office of Vice-Chancellor. |
There are beside other particulars, which are grateful to talk over among friends, not so proper perhaps to appear in a public writing. For instance, one morning going out of a friend’s house, before a huge and fierce mastiff was chained up, (as he used to be all day,) the dog flew at him; and he had that present courage to take the dog by the throat, and after much struggling bore him to the ground, and held him there, till the people could rise and part them, without any other hurt than the straining of his hands, which he felt some days after.
Some would excuse me for noting that he seemed intem- perate in the love of fruit; but it was to him physic, as well as food; and he thought, that if fruit kill hundreds in autumn, it preserves thousands: and he was very free too in the use of tobacco, believing it did help to regulate his thinking.
I did at first mention the uniformity and constant tenor of his life, and proceeding on have noted several particulars of very different nature. I therefore explain myself thus ; that he was always one by his exact conformity to the rule in a virtuous and prudent conversation; he steered by the same compass to the same port, when the storms forced him to shift his sails. His fortune did in some occasions partake of the unsettledness of the times wherein he lived; and to fit him- self for the several works he was to do, he entered upon stu- dies of several kinds, whereby he could not totally devote
Infe of Dr Barrow. lit
himself to one; which would have been more for the public benefit, according to his own opinion, which was, that general scholars did more please themselves, but they who prosecuted particular subjects did more service to others.
Being thus engaged with variety of men and _ studies, his mind became stored with a wonderful plenty of words where- with to express himself; and it happened that sometime he let slip a word not commonly used, which upon reflection he would doubtless have altered, for it was not out of affectation.
But his life were a subject requiring other kind of dis- courses ; and as he that acts another man, doth also act him- self; so he that would give an account of the excellent quali- ties in Dr Barrow, would have a fair field wherein to display his own. Another Camerarius or Gassendus would make another Life of Melanchthon, or Piereskius. What I am doing will not prevent them; I shall be well satisfied with my un- skilfulness, if I provoke them to take the argument into better hands’.
All I have said, or can say, is far short of the idea which Dr Barrow’s friends have formed of him, and that character under which he ought to appear to them who knew him not. Beside all the defects on my part, he had in himself this dis- advantage of wanting foils to augment his lustre, and low places to give eminence to his heights; such virtues as his, contentment in all conditions, candour in doubtful cases, mo- deration among differing parties, knowledge without ostenta- tion, are subjects fitter for praise than narrative.
If I could hear of an accusation, that I might vindicate our friend’s fame, it would take off from the flatness of my expression ; or a well-managed faction, under the name of zeal, for or against the Church, would shew well in story; but I have no shadows to set off my piece. I have laid together a
9 Appendix (P).
liv Some Account of the Life, ke.
few sticks for the funeral-fire, dry bones which can make but a skeleton, till some other hand lay on the flesh and sinews, and cause them to live and move. You will encourage others by pardoning me, which I promise myself from that goodness wherewith Dr Barrow and you have used to accept the small service with the great devotion of,
Sir, Your obedient and humble servant, A[BRAHAM] H{ILL}.
Lonpon, April 10, 1683.
ISAACUS BARROW,
S. £oP. REGIE CAROLO: TI, A SACRIS:
Vir prope divinus, et vere magnus, si quid magni habent
Pietas, probitas, fides, summa eruditio, par modestia, Mores sanctissimi undequaque, et suavissimi. Geometriz Professor Londini Greshamensis,
Greece Lingue, et Matheseos apud Cantabrigienses suos, Cathedras omnes, ecclesiam, gentem ornavit. Collegium 8. 8. Trinitatis Preeses illustravit,
Jactis bibliothecee vere regiz fundamentis auxit. Opes, honores, et universum vite ambitum, Ad majora natus, non contempsit, sed reliquit seculo. Deum, quem a teneris coluit, cum primis imitatus est, Paucissimis egendo, benefaciendo quam plurimis, Etiam posteris, quibus vel mortuus concionari non desinit.
Cetera, et pene majora ex scriptis peti possunt. Abi, Lector, et zmulare. Obiit rv. die Maii, ann. Dom. mpcixxyviu. Adtat. suse XLVIL.
Monumentum hoc Amici posuere.
ete eg tp Neh Xx.
(A.)
“ His father’s name was Thomas, a reputable citizen of London, and Linen-draper to King Charles the First, to whose interests he adhered, following him first to Oxford, and after his execrable murder, he went to his son Charles the Second, then in exile, there with great patience expecting the King’s restoration, which at last happened, when ’twas almost despaired of. I remember Mr Abraham Cowley, who also was beyond sea with the King, told me, At our first coming into France, we expected every post would bring us news of our being recalled; but having been frustrated for so many years, we could not believe it when the happy news arrived.”—Pope’s Life of Seth, Bishop of Salisbury, p. 130.
In the year 1687, when the Fourth Volume of Barrow’s Works was published, Thomas Barrow, his father, was then 87 years old ; (see the original letter, General Preface, p. xxvii. (note)). How long after this he lived has not been ascertained.
(B.)
“Tsaac Barrow, Bishop of St Asaph, was educated at Peter- House, Cambridge, of which he was elected a Fellow. From his Fellowship he was however ejected by the Presbyterians, in the year 1643, the year of his nephew’s entry as Pensioner of the College; and went to Oxford, the head-quarters of the royalist party, where he continued to remain till the surrender of the garrison to the forces of the Parliament. After which he shifted his residence from place to place, sharing the depressed condition of the Royalist Clergy, till the Restoration, when he was restored to his Fellowship at Peter-House, and also elected a Fellow of Eton. In the year 1663 he was made Bishop of Man; his consecration Sermon being preached in Henry the Seventh’s Chapel, July 4, 1663, by his celebrated nephew. (Bar- row’s Works, Vol. 1. Serm. xiv. pp. 484—525.) He died at Shrews- bury, June 24th, 1680, in the 67th year of his age; and on the first
B.S. VOL, I. @
lviii Appendix.
of July following was buried in the Cathedral of St Asaph. His epitaph, which is singular, occasioned some scandal. Over his grave was laid a large flat stone, and another over that supported by pedes- tals; on the last of which is the following inscription engraven: ‘Exuvie Isaaci Asaphensis Episcopi, in manum Domini deposit, in spem let resurrectionis per sola Christi merita. Obiit dictus reve- rendus Pater festo Divi Johannis Baptists, anno Domini 1680, etatis 67, et translationis suze undecimo.’ On the lower stone which is even with the ground, is the following inscription, composed by the Bishop himself, and engraven on a brass plate fastened onthe stone: Hauvie Tsaaci Asaphensis Episcopi, in manum Domini deposite, in spem lete resurrectionis per sola Christi merita. O vos transeuntes in Donvum Domini, Domum orationis, orate pro conservo vestro, ut inveniat misericordiam in Die Donum.” (Abridged from the Aiograph. Britann., Vol. 1. pp. 628, 629. 2nd Edition, 1778).
lix
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Ix Appendix.
(D.)
“ Mr Hill fixes Dr Barrow’s birth in the month of October, A.p. 1630. But I hope he will not be offended if I dissent from him, both as to the year and month, and produce reason for so doing ; ‘tis this: I have often heard Dr Barrow say, that he was born on the 29th of February; and if he said true, it could not be either in October or in 1630, that not being a leap-year. I would not have asserted this, merely upon the credit of my memory, had it been any other day of any other month, it being told me so long since, had I not this remarkable circumstance to confirm it: he used to say, ‘it is in one respect the best day in the year to be born upon, for it afforded me this advantage over my fellow-collegiates, who used to keep feasts on their birth-day ; I was treated by them once every year, and I entertained them once in four years, when February had nine and twenty days.’ ”—Pope’s Life, p. 129.
(E)
Hill’s date is, however, more probably correct. In the Register of Peter-House he is thus entered as a pensioner: ‘“ Isaacus Barrow Lon- diniensis in Hospitii Suttononiani Schola educatus, annum agens de- cimum quartum examinatus et approbatus admissus est Pensionarius, ad primam mensam scholar. sub tutela M™ Barrow, Dec. 15, 1643.”
Baker's MS. notes to Ward, Brit. Mus. Cat. 6209, fol. 13.
This date of his admission is, as Ward’ remarks, “ wholly incon- sistent with Dr Pope’s account (of the date of his birth), the two nearest leap-years to 1630 being 1628 and 1632, which will fix his admission at Peter-House, either to the twelfth or sixteenth year of his age, whereas the words of the College Register are very express, annum agens decimum quartum.” Moreover, Barrow’s epitaph, writ- ten during his father’s life, and probably from information derived from him, tells us, he was in his 47th year, when he died in 1677.
(F.)
“Dr Hill was appointed Master of the College during the Parlia- mentary visitation of the University at the end of the year 1643 by the Earl of Manchester. The test was Zhe Covenant. Dr Comber, the Master, together with Dr Row, the Vice-Master, Herbert Thorn-
1 Lives of Gresham Professors, p. 157.
Appendix. Ixi
dike, and John Sherman, two contributors to the Polyglott Bible, Cowley the poet, with others, refused, and were ejected.” Memoir of Dr Duport, Camb. Mus. Critic. Vol. 11. p. 679.
(G.)
On the 2nd of January, 1649, an Act for subscribing the late Engagement was read a third time and past. The preamble runs to this effect :
“Whereas divers disaffected persons do, by sundry ways and means, oppose and endeavour to undermine the Peace of the Nation under this present Government; so that unless special care be taken a new War is likely to break forth. For the preventing thereof and also for the better uniting of this Nation, as well against all Invasions from abroad, as the common Enemy at home; and to the end that those who receive Benefit and Protection from this present Govern- ment, may give assurance of their living quietly and peaceably under the same, and that they will neither directly nor indirectly contrive or practice any Thing to the Disturbance thereof :”
Then it proceeds to enact, “That all men whatsoever, of the age of 18 years or upwards, shall take and subscribe the following Engage- ment: I do declare and promise that I will be true and faithful to the Commonwealth of England, as it is now established, without a King or a House of Lords.”
The subscriptions were to be taken before the Commissioners of the Great Seal, or Justices of the Peace for the County, City, or Town where the persons lived; their names and places of abode to be entered in a Book by the Justices of the Peace, to be by them cer- tified to the respective Sheriffs, and delivered to the Clerk of the Parliament, whenever so required by the House or the Council of State.
The time for subscribing, originally fixed for 20th of February, was afterwards extended to the roth of April following.
Parl. Hist. (old Ed.) Vol. xrx. 243.
This Act was repealed 1653 by an ordinance of Cromwell and his Council. See Scobell’s Collection of Acts and Ordinances, p. 277.
(H.) Some interesting particulars, never before published, regarding Barrow, at this period of his life, are found in letters from Dr Worth- ington to Mr Samuel Hartlib, Brit. Mus. Cat. 6209, fol. 92, 93.
lxii Appendix.
14 Febr. 1654: “This afternoon I met with Mr Barrow, (it could not be sooner). He expressed himself obliged to you for the books you sent. I could not strictly tie him to any particular day of returning the Mathematical papers, because I would not have him straitened in his thoughts ; but desired him to return them sometime next week. His book is in the stationer’s hands, but I think the stationer is not able to print it. Something he gives Mr Barrow for the copy. For the gentleman is (as many scholars who tumble not in the world) not rich; but one of admirable parts, and had no body to instruct him in Mathematics, but proprio Marte he conquered all difficulties in the most crabbed authors. He is but a young man. He looks upon his performance upon Euclid as a small business to him. He knows Tacquet, &c. He is versed in Physick, an excellent Grecian. That which he would most direct himself to (if he had encouragement to subsist) is Natural Philosophy, and in that we are most at a loss. He is a free philosopher. He talks of travelling, and but that he is well-principled and fixed, the Jesuits would not. stick at any thing to give (get!) a person of such accomplishments, He is a serious and modest person, not vain-glorious and supercilious. It is one of the greatest afflictions to my spirit, when I consider that there are such accomplished persons here and there in the world, and yet because they could not be base or servile, nor scramble for the things of the world, are too often without those helps, which might enable them to do good, as to the advancement of knowledge, &c. There are divers rich men, to whom to part with £20 or £40 a year would not be more hurtful than a flea-bite, that yet cannot be pos- sessed with any noble thoughts. I have sometimes thought, that God would not honour some men because of their wickedness (though speciously covered) to be instrumental to so high and noble ends with their wealth. That persons of true worth and such as might be emi- nently serviceable, should want what may in a modest way encourage them, is to me an affliction, and makes me the more sensible of the vanity and slightness of the world.”
Kidem. 2 March, 1654.
“Mr Barrow is preparing for his travels. He thinks of beginning his long journey this month. He is therefore straitened in time as to the account aud perusal of Mercator’s paper. He would do nothing slightly. He hath scarce time to publish something which he intends to add upon Euclid, which he is now upon, and would despatch. I wish he could be encouraged to stay.”
Appendix, Ixili
(1.)
Letter of Barrow to Mr Tuomas Hitt, of London, written from Constantinople. (Brit. Mus. Letters belonging to the Hill Family. Add. Cat. 5488, fol. 123.)
Pera of Constantinople, December 17, 1658.
Sir,
Receiving your very kind lines, I find myself overcharged with courtesy by a gentleman, whom I had not formerly the happiness to know, but now think myself familiarly acquainted with, at least with the better part of him, his soule, by that glimpse of goodness and ingenuity, which you have been pleased to discover unto me; and in all reason I am the more to esteem your kindness, by how much I am conscious how small invitation my desert could afford it, for as to the merits you are pleased to acknowledge, I have so little right to them, that I am far from pretending any. However I gladly and thankfully embrace your tender of friendship, which I shall esteem as a great honour, and being otherwise unable shall correspond in hearty affection and due observance; as in the same to your brother, if that gentleman please also to condescend to so mean an acquaintance.
The news of Mr Stock’s death must of necessity be very ungrate- ful to me, being thereby deprived of a friend to whom I was infinitely obliged, to manifest my thankful respects to whom I should have been desirous of long life, though I had otherwise hated it; beside that it hath plunged me into some straits and quite splitt (szc) all my desires of future travel, whereof his assistance would have been the main support. For the medails you have bought I am glad they are fallen into such hands, not despairing hereafter by your favour to obtaine a sight of them, and so renew that little knowledge in them, which that worthy gentleman Mr Fitton was pleased to impart; in which I have made no progresse here, not meeting with any matter to exercise upon, nor indeed much enquiring after any, my slender accommodation not enabling me to purchase any curiosities, had they presented themselves. Mr Fitton’s paper Of the value and rarity of medails, I should have been glad, if I could have communi- cated to you; but J find myself robbed of them by a presumptuous negligence ; for thinking, that Mr Catcher (Batcher?) had with others his books and papers, left that with me, upon search I found my hope disappointed, and that unhappy Fate had with him ravished it also from me, wherein I accompted to have lost a treasure. I should
Ixiy Appendix.
advise you to pursue your designed acquisition of it, thinking it worth your enjoying, and wish you success therein. I hope I may now be untacked from this place to which by a fatal chain I seem to have been tyed (as Prometheus ‘to his rock), and that this day (if the Winds and Turks give leave) I shall take my passage in the Lose and Crown bound for Venice, but touching at Smyrna. From Venice my intention is, after very small stay, to haste through Germany and Holland into England, so that I doubt, whether I shall see and salute you in Italy, though I should be very desirous of that content, that I might have opportunity more fully to express my sense of your kindness, to receive your commands, and know if in any thing I could be subservient to your virtuous inclinations. In the meanwhile be pleased to accept of the hearty thanks and earnest good wishes of Your most humble Servant Isaac Barrow.
Be pleased to present my humble service to Dr Duncan, Dr - Kirton, Mr Beale.
I should be glad to hear of any circumstances or particularities concerning Mr Stock’s death.
Endorsed, Issac Barrow, Constantinople, Dec.
Received March 1658.
(K.)
His firmness in supporting the interests of the College is shewn by the letter (now first published), replying to an application for dispensing with certain statutes, probably exemption from taking orders, (State Paper Office, Domestic 1674. N®. 102).
To the Right Hon. Sir JosepH Wuuxramson, Principal Secretary of State at Whitehall.
Right Hon”.
I should be heartily glad of opportunity to serve you in anything, and even ambitious to deserve your favour; I have also much respect and kindnesse for Mr Aston, and should be ready to doe him any good that I could; but I am so unhappy, that in the busynesse about which you did me the honour to write unto me, I am not capable to yeeld any furtherance, it being, as I apprehend, inconsistent with my obligations: nor can I thinke this course adviseable for Mr Aston to
Appendix. Ixv
take, upon divers accompts; I doe not see how he can well seeke, accept, or make use of a dispensation in this case, it seeming expressely repugnant to severall clauses in the oath which he tooke when he was admitted to be Fellow: upon which if he will seriously reflect, it is likely he will not satisfy himself to accept such a dispensation, and certainly others will be dissatisfyed in his doing it. The thing itselfe will be distastfull, as anything can be, to the College, nor I am confi- dent will the Senior Fellows passe it without an addresse to prevent its effect, by reason of the pernicious consequence thereof; it being visible, that there will never want divers young men (if not most) who will be very urgent and make great friends to follow such an exam- ple; which would tend not only to the destroying succession, but to the subversion of the maine designe of our foundation, which is to breed Divines: and probably to a greater inconveniense, obvious enough, than any of these: whence never hitherto, as I conceive, any such thing hath been attempted, at least with successe. Indeed a Fellowship with us is now so poore, that I cannot thinke it worth holding by an ingenuous person upon terms lyable to so much scruple, to so much clamour and obloquy, to the inducing so much prejudice on a society, the welfare whereof he is obliged to tender. This is my sense, expressed with that freedome, which I hope your goodnesse will pardon to, Right Hon.,
Your devoted servant, Isaac Barrow. Trin. Coll., Dec. 3, 1674.
(L.)
The following Letter to a person unknown, the only one of those alluded to by Abraham Hill, which the Editor has succeeded in recovering, is printed in Hartshorne’s Look-Rarities of the University of Cambridge, p. 274. It were, indeed, greatly to be wished that the statement of the Author of that volume was correct—“that the numerous letters of Barrow, written on this occasion, and displaying a wonderful fertility of invention in varying the manner of address to the persons whom he solicited, were preserved.”
“ Sir, “We presume both humbly and earnestly to recommend unto you, the great enterprise of a new and magnificent Library, propor- tioned to the grandeur of the Founder, and not inferior to any other
Ixvi Appendix.
buildings of the College; to which we, of the present Society, were obliged by the great munificence and favour of the Right Reverend father in God, John, late Lord Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, our most worthy benefactor, who hath given us (by the building of the new Hostell) fifty pounds a year for ever, to be expended in buying books, which our present Library (being already filled, and overbw- dened with those we have) can neither contain nor support. Now, Sir, that relation you have to our College, of which you were some- time a worthy member, the candour of your nature, and that great esteeme you have alwayes held for learning, do encourage us to this address; especially considering, that the benefit and convenience of this building, will not only redound to us, but will also add great ornament to the whole University, some honour to the Nation, and may be very advantageous and useful, to such of your own posterity, who shall come to this place, where you had some part of your happy education. We have been able by our own private contribution, and by the assistance of many noble benefactors and friends, to erect and - cover this building. And, though it be a structure of vast expense, even of twelve or fourteen thousand pounds; yet by God’s permission, we have a fair prospect of finishing it, and of joining the south side of Neville’s Court unto it, to make up the Square; if generous per- sons inclined to pious and laudable works (amongst whom we are ambitious to place yourself) will afford us their aid and assistance. We, therefore, most earnestly beg your favour, and supply in this great concern; being very desirous to have your name in the cata- logue of our Benefactors, which lest we should seem to doubt of, we add no more, but only wish you all happinesse, and remain, “ Sir, “ Your most humble servants, “The Master and Senior Fellows “Of Trinity College in Cambridge.”
Harleian MSS, Brit. Mus. 7oor.
The circumstances attending the building of the Library are thus described in the Lives of the Norths, Vol. 111. pp. 364—366. Lond. 1826:
“When the doctor (Dr North) entered upon the Mastership of Trinity College, the building of the Great Library, begun by his im-
Appendin. Ixvil
mediate predecessor Dr Barrow, was advanced about three quarters of the height of the outward wall; and the doctor most heartily and diligently applied his best forces towards carrying it on; besides his own contributions, most of his friends and relations, upon his en- couragement, became benefactors; the particulars whereof will appear in the aceounts of this noble structure. The tradition of this under- taking runs thus. They say that Dr Barrow pressed the heads of the university to build a theatre; it being a profanation and scandal that the speeches should be had in the university Church, and that also be deformed with scaffolds, and defiled with rude crowds and outeries. This matter was formally considered at a council of the heads; and arguments of difficulty, and want of supplies, went strong against it. Dr Barrow assured them that if they made a sorry build- ing, they might fail of contributions; but if they made it very mag- nificent and stately, and at least, exceeding that at Oxford, all gentle- men of their interest would generously contribute; it being what they desired, and little less than required of them; and money would not be wanted as the buildings went up, and occasion called for it. But sage caution prevailed, and the matter, at that time, was wholly laid aside. Dr Barrow was piqued at this pusillanimity, and declared that he would go straight to his college, and lay out the foundations of a building to enlarge his back court, and close it with a stately library, which should be more magnificent and costly than what he had pro- posed to them, and doubted not but, upon the interest of his college, in a short time to bring it to perfection. And he was as good as his word; for that very afternoon he, with his gardeners and servants, staked out the very foundation upon which the building now stands ; and Dr North saw the finishing of it, except the classes, which were forward, but not done, in his time; and divers benefactions came in upon that account; wherewith, and the liberal supply from the college, the whole is rendered complete; and the admirable disposi- tion and proportion on the inside is such as touches the very soul of any one who first sees it.”
See also the account of the building of Trinity Library in the Memoir of Dr James Duport.—Cam. Mus. Crit. Vol. u. p. 696; and Barrow’s V.C. Speech, Vol. 1x. p. 222, and the Notice of his Life, p. xiii.
(M.)
“The good Dr Barrow ended his days in London, in a prebend’s house that had a little stair to it out of the cloisters, which made him
Ixvili Appendizx.
call it a man’s nest, and I presume it is so called at this day. The master’s disease was a high fever. It had been his custom, contracted when (upon the fund of a travelling fellowship) he was at Constantin- ople, in all his maladies, to cure himself with opium; and being very ill (probably) he augmented his dose, and so inflamed his fever, and at the same time obstructed the crisis: for he was as a man knocked down, and had the eyes of one distracted. Our doctor (the Hon. and Rey. Dr John North) seeing him so, was struck with horror; for he, that knew him so well in his best health, could best distinguish ; and when he left him, he concluded he should see him no more alive; and so it proved.”
Lives of the Norths (1826), Vol. ut. pp. 319, 320.
Pope (Life of Seth Ward, p. 166) gives this account of his illness.
“Some few days after he came again to Knightsbridge, and sate down to dinner, but I observed he did not eat: whereupon I asked him, how it was with him: he answered, that he had a slight indis- position hanging upon him, with which he had struggled two or three days, and that he hoped by fasting and opiwm to get-it off, as he had removed another, and more dangerous sickness, at Constan- tinople some years before.”
And this of the place of his death, differing from North’s state- ment, which is most probably correct, Dr Walter Pope not being addicted to accuracy.
“ He died May 4, Anno Dom. 1677, in the 47th year of his age, in mean lodgings, at a Sadler’s near Charing-Cross, an old, low, ill- built house, which he had used for several years: For though his condition was much bettered by his obtaining the Mastership of Trinity College, yet that had no bad influence upon his morals, he still continued the same humble person, and could not be prevailed upon to take more reputable lodgings.” Pope, Life of Seth Ward, p. 167. See the Notice of lis Life, Vol. 1x.
(N.)
Among a number of letters from eminent men to Dr Mapletoft published from the papers in the possession of his grandson, Mr Mapletoft, “an eminent surgeon at Chertsey,” in the Hwropean Magazine (1789), Vol. xtv., xv., are the following from Barrow to Mapletoft :
Appendix. Ixix
SIR,
T hope you are not so much mistaken as to suppose you left in my custody that parcell of bookes which I bought of you, and for which I pay’d sixe pounds to Mr. Pulleyn, according to your order (the chiefe of which were Curio his dictionary, a Plato, an imperfect Plutarch of Stephens’ print). Of any other bookes of your’s left with me I have neither knowledge, memory, nor footstep, excepting that I doubt of three small bookes, which are a Virgil and a Horace with Indexes, and a Greeke testament, Gr. and Lat. in octavo (with some notes of Beza); all which being out of keltred, I did cause to be rebinded ; and the latter did give away to a friend, who beginninge to study Greeke, desired such a one: the two former I have reason to thinke that I payed for, but being not thoroughly sure, I had rather wrong myselfe than you, and therefore, if you thinke good, shall be ready to make them good to you, altho’ I confesse I am not willing to part with the bookes themselves. The other I find not in the cata- logue of my bookes, and therefore believe that either you left it with me, or that it was overseen when you removed your hampires and things from my chamber, and I shall make it good to you in specie or value, as you shall choose, although when I disposed of it I did not esteeme it worth consideration. I am certaine you left no other booke in my custody. I have parted with few bookes, though I have been so unwise as to purchase very many; and therefore if ever I had any of your bookes I am confident it is with me still, and if your memory doe suggest any that you doubt of, I will search for it; but I am well assured there never was any such. There are but few remaining here, I take it, of your old acquaintance ; those that are, Mr Hawkins espe- cially, and Mr Pulleyn, receive kindly and returne your salutes. So
doth Your assured friend and humble servant,
ISAAC BARROW. Trin. Coun. 11 March, 64.
ic Hon. AND DEARE Sir,
Mr Eusden intends, God willing, for London in the coach next Wednesday ; will present himselfe to you, and obey your directions. He shall have recommendations from our Master to the Bishop of London for receiving orders immediately. He is satisfied with the conditions you propound, and will performe what shall be required of
Ixx Appendix.
him. I am very confident you shall find him so in all respects to answer your desires, that you shall not have cause to repent of the obligation you have putt upon him and me. Please to forward the enclosed, and to present my hearty love and service to Mr Pomeroy; it was my unhappinesse not to see him at London. Thanking you (more than I can expresse) for all your kindnesse, T am, most affectionately and obligedly your’s, IS. BARROW.
Trin. Coti. March 12, 69. Mr Eusden desired me to present his humble service to you.
II. DearE Doct’, ‘‘Grates persolvere dignas Non opis est nostre, Doctor; nee quicquid ubique est Gentis Dardaniz.” You have driven me to my snipps, being de proprio insolvent of fit expression. In sooth I never find any regrett for my being a poore meane fellow, but when upon such occasions I consider myselfe to be hopelesse of getting opportunity to shew my willingnesse to be thankfull for such courtesyes. I could now even wish myselfe an Arch-Bishop, yea, almost a Pope, that I might have preferments for you to dispose of to your friends, beside that I might be able to keepe a company of crazy knaves, and allow good fees for them. My comfort is yet, although you can receive none from me, yet that you will have some requitall in the satisfaction of having obliged your friends, this good college, that worthy wag whom I doubt not but you will find in respects correspondent to your best expectations, and to the character thought due to his deserts from Your ever most affectionate friend and thankful servant,
Is. BARROW.
I shall offer (though I know nothing) upon a kind of intimation in your’s to wish you much joy; for surely you could not leave such a Lord but for a very good Lady.
TRIN. Cotn. Jun. 23, 1669.
IV. Dear Doctor,
I should have satisfyed myselfe with an — or all conveyance of my devoirs to you by some of our tribe of Gad, but that I have an
Appendix. Ixxi
earnest sute to you, which cannot be well prosecuted otherwise then by the penn, and with which I dare not trust any scholer errant of them all: in few, ’tis this; that you would use your best endeavours (which, 7é fallor, will be very powerfull) towards excusing me to the gentle Bellerophon of these, for not attending on him to Oxford; whither a fond desire of seeing a certain Doctor hath drawne him (1 think that Doctor be a conjuror) after a laudable resolution he had taken of staying at home with me and following his studyes. I will not furnish you with rational weapons wherewith to worke this feat of absolution, as not pretending to the wisdome of doing all things with good reason ; only I advise you to employ thereon this one to my seeming, plausible discourse, that I must surely have some great reason, or (which is tantamount) a very strong humour on my side, since the instigation of a person (of your acquaintance) to whom you know I beare a great respect, and to whom I am much obliged, could not stirr me (though I must confess to you it did somewhat stagger me); you may also, if you please, tell him that I designe to compensate for this neglect by some signall demonstration, if industry can find out or good fortune shall offer an opportunity. But I forgot where you are, and how this, that, and t’other gentleman are lugging you hither and thither. I pray comply with them all as you can;
only first let your sweet hands be kissed by
Your most affectionate and obliged servant, ISAAC BARROW. Much gratulation and service to your Reverend a sacris Dr Blomer. Trin. Conn. July 6, 1669. V. DEaRrE Sir,
I did, upon my returne hither from the waters in Oxford- shire, find your very obliging letter (for which I thanke you) together with my papers; and since you invite me to trouble you, I will not, having a fitt occasion, be so rude as to wave your curtesy. Needing mony here, and having a small sume, about 8 or 9 pounds due to me from a pupill, brother to the gentleman to whom the enclosed is directed, and who I suppose will pay it if you please to ask for it and receive it, I request of you that favour, and that you receiving it will cause it to be returned to me hither, supposing you know how to do it. Mr Richards promised me to pay it to Dr. Tillotson: if he should have done so, I request you to ask that good Doctor for it,
Ixxii Appendix.
unto whom (by the way) having commended the trouble of obstetri- cating to my Spittal Sermon, I have requested him to present 4 to you for your self and friends. I shall, God willing, about the end of this month (if our master the King doe not ramble another way) come to serve him and thanke you. In the meane time, I am Your most obliged and affectionate servant, ISAAC BARROW.
My service I pray to Mr Firman and all our friends, particularly to Dr Blomer and his lady, who I hope is well.
Sarum, July 1, 1671.
VI.
Drake Sir,
I doe heartily bid you welcome home, and receive your kind salutations most thankfully; but your project concerning Mr Davies I cannot admitt. Trinity College is, God be thanked, in peace, (I wish all Christendome were so well) and it is my duty, if I can, to keep uproars thence. I do wish Mr Davyes heartily well, and would — doe him any good I could; but this I conceive neither faisible nor fitting. We shall discourse more of it when I come. I have severely admonished T. H. for his clownish poltronry in not daring to en- countre the gentle Monsieur that saluted him from Blois. Pardon my grave ayocations that I deferr saying more till I shall be so happy to see you. In the meane time (with my best wishes and services to you, your good madam Comfortable, the good Doctor, and all our friends) I am, Deare Sir,
Your most affectionate friend and obliged servant, IS. BARROW. Trin, CoLu. July 19, 1673. VIL. Deane Sir,
Could I be assured of so good successe, I should willingly undergoe many a rapp ; and saying no more, I heartily thank you for straining so farr to shew your kindnesse to the College, taking it for a great obligation to myselfe. I doe also thank you for your good offices to Sir John Holman, whose favourable answer will much en- courage our businesse; for indeed we doe need some positive declarers per verba de presenti, to swppresse the infidelity and timorousnesse of some, even among us, who feare that after we have begunn we shall be deserted. Our design is indeed great, but no greater then the
Appendix. Ixxili
place doth require, and then we may well accomplish, if we doe not faile of that assistance, which, upon a very reasonable and moderate computation, we may hope. I have forborn answering to your case about practise, because Mr Crouch hath been every day expected to come hither; but hearing now that it will be a weeke before he cometh, I shall tell you what I think, according to the best informa- tion and judgment I can make. We do here generally concurr in opinion that every Doctor of Physick, by taking his degree, hath a license to practise every where in the kingdome; that this hath ever been a privilege of the University ; and that whoever attempteth to infringe this privilege doth violate his obligations and oaths to the University. Besides oure custome and possession of this right, we have this evident proofe that the University hath ever exercised a power of licensing sufficient persons to practise universally, according to the forme which I send you inclosed; which licence no Doctor of Physick taketh, because his taking the degree doth involve it. And whereas in this Parliament the College (or some of them) did putt in to get an Act for appropriating practise to themselves, the University privilege being objected against them, they were forced to desist: their seeking of an Act did argue their want of present right; and their disappointment, that they had small colour for it. Wherefore if they intend (by application to his Majesty, or otherwise) to endea- vour any thing in prejudice to our privilege, you may be assured that I shall do my best to defend it, and I doubt not to find a concurrence of the whole University in opposing them; wherein we may be con- fident of our Chancellour’s helpe, whom we have found ready upon all occasions to protect our rights. I have no more to say at present, but that Tam Your most affectionate friend and servant,
. ISAAC BARROW. Trin. Cot. Feb. 8, 1675.
(0.)
Of the Theological Works a full account has been given in the General Preface. His published Mathematical Works are these: 1 LEuclidis Elementa. 8vo. Cantab. 1655 et sepius. 2 Euclidis Data. 8vo, Cantab. 1657. This was subjoined to the Elements in some following Editions.
EA VOR: [. Ba
Ixxiv Appendix.
3 Lectiones Optic, xvi. 4to. Lond. 1669.
4 Lectiones Geometrice, xm. 4to. Lond. 1670. .
5 Archimedis Opera, Apollonii Conicorum Libri 1v., Theodosii Spheerica, methodo nova illustrata et suecinte demonstrata. 4to. Lond. 1675.
After his death, these were published:
1 Lectio, in qua Theoremata Archimedis de Sphera et Cylindro, per methodum indivisibilium investigata ac breviter demon- strata, exhibentur. 12mo. Lond. 1678.
2 Mathematics Lectiones, habitee in Scholis publicis Academiz Cantabrigiensis. An. Dom. 1664—6. 8vo. Lond. 1683.
From Ward's Lives of Gresham Professors, p. 163: where also a list is given of his unpublished Mathematical Works.
COPY OF THE AGREEMENT BETWEEN THOMAS BARROW AND BRABAZON AYLMER.
Kwow all men by these Presents that I Thomas Barrow Sen" of the Citty of Westminster Gentleman: Administrator to the Late Reverend and Learned D" Isaac Barrow Master of Trinity Colledge in Cambridge dec* my beloved Son. For and in Consideration of the sum of ffour hundred pounds of lawful mony of England to me in hand paid By Brabazon Aylmer Cittizen and Stationer of London before the sealing and delivery hereof, the receipt whereof I do hereby acknowledge. Have granted bargain’d, sold, assigned, and set over, and by these presents do grant, bargain, sell, assign, and set over unto the said Brabazon Aylmer, his Executors Administrators and Assigns: The several Bookes and Coppys of Bookes, Sermons, or Discourses hereunder writ: with all the prefaces Epistles Titles Tables, &c. writ or preached by the said D™ Isaac Barrow dec’ and since his death published by the Reverend D* Tillotson Dean of Canterbury, as follows, viz.
1 Inprimis. A Sermon of Bounty to the Poor: preached at the Spittal in Easter week Ano Domi 1671. By the said D" Isaac Barrow.
2 Item. A Sermon on the Passion of our blessed Saviour : preached at Guild-hall Chappel on Good ffriday the 13 day of April 1677. By D* Isaac Barrow.
Appendix. Ixxyv
3 Item. A Vollum, containmg Twelve Sermons; preached upon several occasions. By the said D™ Isaac Barrow; comonly called the first vol: and printed first in the year 1678.
4 Item. A Vollum containing Te Sermons Entituled Severall Sermons against Evil-speaking. By Dr Isaac Barrow; comonly called the Second Volum: and printed first in the year 1678.
5 Item. A vollum containing Eight Sermons; comonly called the third Volum and entituled Of the Love of God and our neighbour in several Sermons: By the said D" Isaac Barrow: and printed first in the year 1680.
6 Item. And also a Larg Booke in Quarto entituled: A treatise of the Popes Supremacy. To which is added a Discourse concerning the Unity of the Church. By the said D" Isaac Barrow. And printed first in the year 1680.
To have and to hold the said Coppys, Bookes, Sermons, or Dis- courses Unto him the said Brabazon Aylmer his Execut™ Adminis- trat™ and Assignes to his and their own proper use and behoofe for ever.
And I the said Thomas Barrow do hereby covenant promise and grant to and with the said Brabazon Aylmer his execut’ Adminis- trat™ and Assignes by these presents that I the said Thomas Barrow now have in myselfe good right, full power and lawful authority ; to grant bargain and sell the said Bookes and Coppys to him the said Brabazon Aylmer, in maner aforesaid.
And I do hereby desire and authorize the Master and Wardens of the Company of Staconers London to permit and suffer the said Bookes or Coppys &c. to be entered in their Register to him the said Brabazon Aylmer as his own proper Bookes & Coppys. Wittness my hand and seale the ... fourth day of April Ano Domi one thou- sand six hundred and eighty one (1681).
THomAs Barrow.
Wittness, MARY POWELL (Servant to HARVEY).
N. B. The whole of the above in the original is on one page, on the back of which is written the following :
of
Ixxvi Appendix.
I do hereby acknowledge to have Rec* of Brabazon Aylmer the sum off seaventy pounds ; being in full payment for another Booke of Dt Isaac Barrows Intitled A Briefe Exposition of the Lords Prayer And the Decalogue ; to which is added the ad trine of the Sacraments in 8"°:
Wittness my hand this 13" day of October 1681. Tuomas Barrow. Wittness,
WALTER JURIN. WILLIAM WILKINS.
@.) Abraham Hill’s wish was never gratified. No Camerarius or Gassendus among Barrow’s friends arose to write his biography. A very insufficient substitute appeared in the person of Dr Walter Pope, who devoted a portion of the volume containing his Life of Seth Ward, Bishop of Salisbury (Lond. 1697), to notices of Barrow and other distinguished men of that age. From these the following are reproduced,—with the caution, that absolute veracity seems not to have adorned their Author’s character.
a
“ As soon as Dr Ward was made Bishop of Exeter, he procured for his old friend Dr Wilkins, the rectory of St Laurence-Jewry, who was then destitute of any place, the reason whereof I have given before: he being minister there, and forced by some indisposition to keep his chamber, desired Dr Barrow to give him a Sermon the next Sunday, which he readily consented to do. Accordingly, at the time appointed, he came, with an aspect pale and meagre, and unpromising, slovenly and carelessly dressed, his collar unbuttoned, his hair un- combed, &c. Thus accoutred, he mounts the pulpit, begins his prayer, which, whether he did read or not, I cannot positively assert, or deny: immediately all the congregation was in an uproar, as if the church were falling, and they scampering to save their lives, each shifting for himself with great precipitation; there was such a noise of pattens of serving-maids, and ordinary women, and of unlocking of pews, and cracking of seats, caused by the younger sort hastily climbing over them, that I confess, I thought all the congregation were mad: but the good Doctor seeming not to take notice of this disturbance proceeds, names his text, and preached his Sermon, to two or three gathered, or rather left together, of which number, as it
Appendix. Ixxvul
fortunately happened, Mr Baxter, that eminent Non-conformist was one, who afterwards gave Dr Wilkins a visit, and commended the Sermon to that degree, that he said, he never heard a better Dis- course. There was also amongst those who stayed out the Sermon, a certain young man, who thus accosted Dr Barrow as he came down from the pulpit: ‘Sir, be not dismayed, for I assure you, ’twas a good Sermon.’ By his age and dress he seemed to be an apprentice, or, at the best, a foreman of a shop, but we never heard more of him. I asked the Doctor what he thought, when he saw the congregation running away from him? ‘I thought, said he, ‘they did not like me, or my Sermon, and I have no reason to be angry with them for that.’ ‘But what was your opinion,’ said I, ‘of the apprentice?’ ‘I take him,’ replied he, ‘ to be a very civil person, and if I could meet with him Id present him with a bottle of wine.’ There were then in that parish a company of formal, grave, and wealthy citizens, who having been many years under famous ministers, as Dr Wilkins, Bishop Ward, Bishop Reynolds, Mr Vines, &c. had a great opinion of their skill in divinity, and their ability to judge of the goodness and badness of Sermons. Many of these came in a body to Dr Wilkins, to expostulate with him, why he suffered such an ignorant, scandalous fellow, meaning Dr Barrow, to have the use of his pulpit. I cannot precisely tell whether it was the same day, or some time after in that week, but I am certain it happened to be when Mr Baxter was with Dr Wilkins. They came, as I said before, in full ery, saying, they wondered he should permit such a man to preach before them, who looked like a starved cavalier, who had been long sequestered, and out of his living for delinquency, and came up to London to beg, now the King was restored; and much more to this purpose. He let them run their selves out of breath, when they had done speaking, and expected an humble submissive answer, he re- plied to them in this manner: ‘ The person you thus despise, I assure you, is a pious man, an eminent scholar, and an excellent preacher: for the truth of the last, I appeal to Mr Baxter here present, who heard the Sermon you so vilify: I am sure you believe Mr Baxter is a competent judge, and will pronounce according to truth; then turning to him, ‘ Pray, Sir,’ said he, ‘do me the favour to declare your opinion concerning the Sermon now in controversy, which you heard at our church the last Sunday.’ Then did Mr Baxter very candidly give the Sermon the praise it deserved, nay more, he said, ‘That Dr Barrow preached so well, that he could willingly have been his auditor all day long. When they heard Mr Baxter give him
Ixxvill Appendia.
this high encomium, they were pricked in their hearts, and all of them became ashamed, confounded, and speechless; for, though they had a good opinion of their selves, yet they durst not pretend to be equal to Mr Baxter; but at length, after some pause, they all, one after another, confessed, they did not hear one word of the Sermon, but were carried to mislike it by his unpromising garb and mien, the reading of his prayer, and the going away of the congregation; for they would not by any means have it thought, if they had heard the Sermon, they should not have concurred with the judgment of Mr Baxter. After their shame was a little over, they earnestly desired Dr Wilkins to procure Dr Barrow to preach again, engaging their selves to make him amends, by bringing to his Sermon their wives and children, man-servants and maid-servants, in a word, their whole families, and to enjoin them not to leave the church till the blessing was pronounced. Dr Wilkins promised them to use his utmost en- deavour for their satisfaction, and accordingly solicited Dr Barrow to appear once more upon that stage, but all in vain, for he would not by any persuasions be prevailed upon to comply with the request of such conceited, hypocritical coxcombs.”
II.
“ He had one fault more, if it deserves that name, he was gene- rally too long in his Sermons; and now I have spoken as ill of him as the worst of his enemies could, if ever he had any: he did not con- sider, that men cannot be attentive to any discourse of above an hour’s duration, and hardly so long, and that therefore even in plays, which are discourses made for diversion, and more agreeable to mankind, there are frequent pauses and music betwixt the acts, that the spec- tators may rise from their seats and refresh their weary bodies and minds. But he thought he had not said enough, if he omitted any- thing that belonged to the subject of his Discourse, so that his Ser- mons seemed rather complete 'I'reatises, than Orations, designed to be spoke in an hour; hereof I will give you two or three instances. He was once requested by the Bishop of Rochester then, and now Dean of Westminster, to preach at the Abbey, and withal desired not to be long, for that auditory loved short Sermons, and were used to them. He replied, ‘ My Lord, I will shew you my Sermon; and pulling it out of his pocket, puts it into the Bishop’s hands. The text was in the tenth chapter of the Proverbs, the latter end of the eighteenth verse, the words these; He that uttereth slander is a liar. The Ser- mon was accordingly divided into two parts, one treated of slander,
Appendix. Ixxix
the other of lies’. The Dean desired him to content himself with preaching only the first part, to which he consented, not without some reluctancy, and in speaking that only it took up an hour and a half. This Discourse is since published in two Sermons, as it was preached. Another time, upon the same person’s invitation, he preached at the Abbey on a holiday: here I must inform the reader, that it is a custom for the servants of the church upon all holidays, Sundays excepted, betwixt the Sermon and Evening Prayers, to shew the tombs and effigies of the Kings and Queens in wax, to the meaner sort of people, who then flock thither from all the corners of the town, and pay their twopence to see ‘The play of the dead volks,’ as I have heard a Devonshire clown not improperly call it. These per- ceiving Dr Barrow in the pulpit after the hour was past, and fearing to lose that time in hearing, which they thought they could more profitably employ in receiving,—these, I say, became impatient, and caused the organ to be struck up against him, and would not give over playing till they had blowed him down. But the Sermon of the greatest length was that concerning Charity, before the Lord Mayor and Aldermen at the Spittle; in speaking which, he spent three hours and a half. Being asked, after he came down from the pulpit, whether he was not tired; ‘Yes, indeed,’ said he, ‘I began to be weary with standing so long*’”
iil.
“ All the while he continued with the Bishop of Salisbury I was his bedfellow, and a witness of his indefatigable study; at that time he applied himself wholly to divinity, having given a divorce to mathematics and poetry, and the rest of the Belles Lettres, wherein he was profoundly versed, making it his chief, if not only business, to
1 As usual, Pope is inaccurate. He does not give even the text correctly ; nor is he right about the division of the subject-matter of the Sermon: the first (Vol. II. pp. 102—127) treats of slander and its various manifestations ; the second (pp. 128—r46) of the folly of slander. Nor, if the Sermons as printed be the Sermons that were preached, is it credible, that the first of less than twenty-four pages took an hour and a half to deliver. Both of these are discourses of moderate length even according to modern notions.
* Here, again, another opportunity presents itself of testing the truthfulness of Pope’s stories. The Spital Sermon, exclusive of notes, occupies about ninety pages of this Edition; an amount of matter which might well be delivered within three hours and a half. But it is evident Barrow did not preach all he had written; for in the formal request to publish it (see Vol. 1. p. 2), he is asked to print his Sermon, with what farther he had prepared to deliver at that time.
Ixxx Appendix.
write in defence of the Church of England, and compose Sermons, whereof he had great store, and, I need not say, very good.
“ We were once going from Salisbury to London, he in the coach with the Bishop, and I on horseback; as he was entering the coach I perceived his pockets strutting out near halfa foot, and said to him, ‘What have you got in your pockets?’ He replied, ‘Sermons.’ ‘Ser- mons,’ said I, ‘ give them me, my boy shall carry them in his port- manteau, and ease you of that luggage.’ ‘ But,’ said he, ‘suppose your boy should be robbed ;’ ‘ That’s pleasant,’ said I, ‘do you think there are parsons padding upon the road for Sermons?’ ‘ Why, what have you,’ said he, ‘it may be five or six guineas, I hold my Sermons at a greater rate, they cost me much pain and time.’ ‘ Well then,’ said I, ‘if youll insure my five or six guineas against lay-padders, I'll secure your bundle of Sermons against ecclesiastical highway- men. This was agreed; he emptied his pockets, and filled my port- manteau with divinity, and we had the good fortune to come safe to our journey’s end without meeting either sort of the padders fore- - mentioned, and to bring both our treasures to London.
“He was of a healthy constitution, used no exercise or physic, besides smoking tobacco, in which he was not sparing, saying, it was
.an instar omnium, or panfarmacon: he was unmercifully cruel to a lean carcase, not allowing it sufficient meat or sleep: during the winter months, and some part of the rest, he rose always before it was light, being never without a tinder-box and other proper uten- sils for that purpose; I have frequently known him, after his first sleep, rise, light, and, after burning out his candle, return to bed be- fore day. I say, I have known him do this; I report it not upon hearsay, but experience, having been, as I said before, his bedfellow whilst he lived with the Bishop of Salisbury.”
IV,
“He was careless of his cloaths, even to a fault; I remember he once made me a visit, and I perceiving his band sat very awkwardly, and asked him, ‘What makes your band sit so?’ ‘I have,’ said he, ‘no buttons upon my collar.’ ‘Come,’ said I, ‘put on my night- gown, here’s a tailor at hand,’ for by chance my tailor was then with me, ‘who will presently set all things right.’ With much ado I prevailed with him; the buttons were supplied, the gown made clean, the hands and face washed, and the clothes and hat brushed;
in a word, at his departure, he did not seem the same man who came in just before.”
THE
PUBLISHER TO THE READER.
| ia Author of the following Sermons was so pub-
licly known, and so highly esteemed by all learned and good men, that nothing either needs or can be said more to his advantage. Not but that I think it very fit, that the picture of this truly great man should be drawn at full length, for the knowledge and imita- tion of posterity; and it will, I hope, be done hereafter by some more skilful hand: however, I shall not within the narrow limits of a Preface, so much as attempt the character of him; of whom, either not a little, or nothing at all ought to be said.
And the Sermons themselves do as little need commendation as the Author; their own excellency and eloquence will praise them best. I shall therefore only advertise the reader of some few things con- cerning them.
The design of the five first is, to recommend reli- gion to our esteem and practice, from the consideration of the manifold excellencies and advantages of it. The four next do treat of the two great duties of reli-
gion, and parts of divine worship, prayer and thanks-
Ixxxll The Publisher to the Reader.
giving; and contain likewise a very powerful persuasive to the practice of them. The three following were preached upon three solemn occasions: the first of them upon the 29th of May, 1676, the anniversary of His Majesty’s happy restoration: the second upon the fifth of November, 1675, in commemoration of our great deliverance from the Powder Treason, both in the year of his Vice-Chancellorship: the third at the consecra- tion of the Bishop of Man, (afterwards Lord Bishop of St Asaph) his uncle; in which he pleads for the due respect and revenue of the Clergy with so much modesty, and yet with so great force of reason and eloquence, that the whole profession may justly think © themselves for ever indebted to him.
Some of these twelve Sermons were the very first that he made; by which we may judge with what pre- paration and furniture he entered upon this sacred employment. The first of them was preached at St Mary’s in Cambridge, June 30, 1661, and was, I think, the first that he ever preached. Those two excellent Sermons of thanksgiving were, as I am informed, the next. The fourth in order was the first that he preached before the King’s Majesty. In the placing of them as they now stand, I had very little regard to the order of time, but rather to some small reason taken from the subject matter of them, not worth the men- tioning; any reason almost being good enough in a matter so indifferent, and where none is necessary.
The next ten Sermons are thought fit to be put together, because of their affinity to one another, all
The Publisher to the Reader. Ixxxill
of them relating to the same argument, and tending to reform the several vices of the tongue. The last two of them indeed against pragmaticalness and med- dling in the affairs of others, do not so properly be- long to this subject; but considering that this vice is chiefly managed by the tongue, and is almost ever attended with some irregularity and indiscretion of speech, they are not altogether so foreign and unsuit- able to it. And never were discourses of this kind more necessary than in this wicked and perverse gene- ration; wherein the vices here reprehended are so very rife, and out of the abundant impiety of men’s hearts there proceeds so much evil speaking of all kinds, in atheistical discourses, and blasphemous raillery, and profane swearing; and when censoriousness, detraction and slander are scarce accounted faults, even with those who would seem to be most strict in other parts and duties of Religion.
The author of them, as he was exemplary in all manner of conversation, so especially in this part of it, being of all men I ever had the happiness to know, the clearest of this common guilt, and most free from offending in word; coming as near as is possible for human frailty to do, to the perfect idea of St James his perfect man. So that in these excellent Discourses of his he hath only transcribed his own practice. All the rules which he hath given he most religiously ob- served himself, and was very uneasy when at any time he saw them transgressed by others in his com- pany.
lxxxiv The Publisher to the Reader.
There is one thing in them needs excuse, namely, that several things which are more briefly and sum- marily said in the first of these Sermons about evil speaking are repeated in some of the following Dis- courses: which because it could not well be avoided, but either by wholly leaving out the first Sermon, or very much mangling some of the rest, will, it is hoped, for that reason be easily pardoned.
The eight following Sermons are likewise sorted together, because they explain and enforce the two great commandments of the law, the love of God, and of our neighbour.
The two next were published by himself, and only. those two. The first of them, about the Duty and Reward of Bounty to the Poor, was preached at the Spital, and published at the desire of the Lord Mayor and Court of Aldermen. ‘This was received with uni- versal approbation; and perhaps there is nothing ex- tant in Divinity more perfect in its kind: it seems to have exhausted the whole argument, and to have left no consideration belonging to it untouched. The other, on the Passion of our blessed Saviour, was the last he preached, but one; and, I think, the occasion of his death, by a cold he then got, which, in all probability, was the cause of the fever of which he died, to our unspeakable loss. This he sent to the press himself, but did not live to see it published.
The next part of this Volume is a brief Explication of the Lord’s Prayer, the Decalogue, and the Doctrine of the Sacraments. It were to be wished that the
The Publisher to the Reader. lxxxv
Creed also had been explained by him in the same manner; but that he hath handled in a larger way, in a great many excellent Sermons upon the several arti- cles of it, wherein he hath not only explained and confirmed the great doctrines of our religion, but like- wise shewn what influence every article of our faith ought to have upon our practice. Which Discourses make the second Volume of his works.
The last part of this first Volume is his learned Treatise of the Pope’s Supremacy, to which, because there is prefixed a Preface giving a short account, I need not here to say anything farther of it.
Besides these, the Author hath left many other excellent Sermons, upon several important and useful subjects in Divinity: besides a great many learned Lectures and Treatises in the Mathematics; and divers excellent Orations and Poems, all in Latin. All which may, God willing, in convenient time be communicated to the public, to the great advantage and furtherance of religion and learning.
In the mean time, I heartily recommend these Sermons which are already published to thy serious perusal; and shall only say this of them, that as they want no other kind of excellency, so particularly they are animated throughout with so genuine a spirit of true piety and goodness, that he must either be a per- fectly good, or prodigiously bad man, that can read them over without being the better for them.
JOHN TILLOTSON,
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENEAGE, EARL OF NOTTINGHAM,
LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND, AND
ONE OF HIS MAJESTY’S MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY-COUNCIL.
My Lorp,
I raxe the boldness to present your Lordship with some of the fruits of my deceased son’s studies in Divinity. And since it hath pleased God, to my unspeakable grief and loss, to deprive me of so great a blessing and comfort of my old age; it is no small mitigation of my sorrow, that whilst he lived he was not unprofitable to the world; and that, now he is dead, he hath left those monuments of his piety and learning behind him, which, I am told, are gene- rally thought not unworthy to be imparted to the public.
If these Sermons be such, I have no cause to doubt but they will easily obtain your Lordship’s patronage, who are so known a favourer of all that is virtuous and worthy, especially of Religion and the ministers of it; of which I had particular experience upon the death of my good son, when your Lordship was pleased,
Ixxxviil The Epistle Dedicatory.
with so much humanity and condescension, to send to comfort me under that sad loss, and to express your own resentment of it.
But whatever these Sermons be, since I have no other way to acknowledge my great obligations to your Lordship upon all occasions, I hope your Lord- ship will please favourably to accept of this, how small soever, yet sincere testimony of my dutiful respects and gratitude. I am,
My Lord, Your Lordship’s most obliged
and most obedient servant, THOMAS BARROW.
THE
DUTY AND REWARD
OF
BOUNTY TO THE POOR:
IN
A SERMON
PREACHED AT
THE SPITTAL
UPON WEDNESDAY IN EASTER WEEK, ANNO DOM. M.DC.LXXI.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
SIR RICHARD FORD,
LORD MAYOR OF LONDON,
AND THE COURT OF ALDERMEN.
Right Hon?le,
As out of grateful respect, I did (although otherwise indisposed for such employments) endeavour to’ discharge that service, which you vouchsafed to call me unto, in conceiving and uttering these meditations ; so now in publishing them, I do purely submit to your commands, meaning therein to approve myself,
Right Hon”, Your most obedient Servant,
Isaac Barrow.
B.S. VOL. I. 1
FORD, Mayor.
Martis secundo die Maii 1671. Annoq; Domini Regis Caroxt Secundi Anglize, &c. vicesimo tertio.
This Court doth desire Dr Barrow to print his Sermon, preached at the Spittal on Wednesday in Easter Week last, with what farther he had prepared to deliver at that tune.
AVERY.
IMPRIMATUR.
Sam. Parker, R™° in Christo Patri ac Domino D" Gilberto Archiep. Cantuar. a Sac. Dom.
Jul. 3, 1671.
SERMON IL
THE DUTY AND REWARD OF BOUNTY TO THE POOR.
Psaium CXII. 9.
He hath dispersed, he hath given to the poor; his right- cousness endureth for ever; his horn shall be exalied with honour.
A this whole Psalm appears to have a double SERM. intent ; one to describe the proper actions and —— affections of a truly religious or pious man; (of a man Who feareth the Lord, and delighteth greatly Ver. t. in lis commandments ;) the other to declare the happiness of such a man’s state, consequent upon those his affections and actions, whether in way of natural result, or of gracious recompense from God : so doth this verse particularly contain both a good part of a pious man’s character, and some consider- able instances of his felicity. The first words (He hath dispersed, he hath given to the poor) express part of his character ; the latter (His righteousness endureth for ever, his horn shall be exalted with honour) assign instances of his felicity. So that our text hath two parts, one affording us good information concerning our duty, the other yielding great encouragement to the performance thereof ; for we are obliged to follow the pious man’s prac- tice, and so doing we shall assuredly partake of his 1—2
SERM.
Luke xii.
33 > SL At.
4 The Duty and Reward of
condition. These parts we shall in order prosecute, endeavouring (by God’s assistance) somewhat to illustrate the words themselves, to confirm the truths couched in them, and to inculcate the duties which they imply.
For the first part, He hath disper sed, he hath given to the poor ; these words in general do import the liberal bounty and mercy which a pious man is wont to exercise; domg which doth in good part constitute him pious, and signally declareth him such; is a necessary ingredient of his piety, and a conspicuous mark thereof. But particularly they insinuate some things concerning the nature, the matter, the manner, and the object of those acts.
He hath dispersed, he hath given. 'Those words being put indefinitely, or without determining what is dispersed and given by him, may be supposed to imply a kind of universality in the matter of his beneficence ; that he bestoweth whatever he hath within compass of his possession, or his power ; his Ta vrapyovra, (the things which he hath,) and his Ta évovra, (the things which he may,) according to the prescriptions of our Lord in the Gospel. Every thing, I say, which he hath in substance, or can do by his endeavour, that may conduce to the support of the life, or the health, or the welfare in any kind of his neighbour, to the succour or relief of his indi- gency, to the removal or easement of his affliction, he may well here be understood to disperse and give. Feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick, entertaining the stranger, ran- soming the captive, easing the oppressed, comfort- ing the sorrowful, assisting the weak, instructing
Bounty to the Poor. 5
or advising the ignorant, together with all such SERM. kinds or instances of beneficence, may be conceived either meant directly as the matter of the good man’s dispersing and giving, or by just analogy of reason reducible thereto : substantial alms, as the most sensible and obvious matter of bounty, was (it is probable) especially intended, but thence no manner of expressing it is to be excluded ; for the same reasons which oblige us, the same affections which dispose us to bestow our money, or deal our bread, will equally bind and move us to contribute our endeavour and advice, for the sustenance and comfort of our poor neighbour. Answerably our discourse will more expressly regard the principal matter, liberal communication of our goods ; but it may be referred to all sorts of beneficence. Further, the word dispersed intimateth the nature of his bounty, in exclusion of practices dif- ferent from it. He disperseth, and is therefore not tenacious, doth not hoard up his goods, or keep them close to himself, for the gratifying his covet- ous humour, or nourishing his pride, or pampering his sensuality ; but sendeth them abroad for the use and benefit of others. He disperseth his goods, and therefore doth not fling them away altogether, as if he were angry with them, or weary of them, as if he loathed or despised them ; but fairly and softly with good consideration he disposeth of them here and there, as reason and need do require. He disperseth them to the poor, not dissipateth them among vain or lewd persons in wanton or wicked profusions, in riotous excesses, in idle diver- tisements, Im expensive curiosities, in hazardous gamines, in any such courses which swallow whole
—
Eph. iv. 28.
Proy. xi, 24.
2 Cor. ix. 6, 10. Gal. Wie 7s
ey Zot 18,
Prov. xi. 25.
6 The Duty and Reward of
all that a man hath, or do so cripple him, that he becomes unable to disperse any thing: our good man is to be understood wisely provident, honestly industrious, and soberly frugal, that he may have wherewith to be just first, and then liberal*.
His dispersing also (or scattering, so the He- brew” word here used is otherwise rendered: There is, saith the Wise Man, that scattereth, and yet increaseth ; where we may remark, that this word singly by itself, without any adjunct matter to limit or interpret it, is used to signify this kind of practice. This his dispersing, I say, also) denotes the extent of the pious man’s bounty, that it is very large and diffusive, and in a manner unre- strained ; that it reacheth to many places, and is ~ withheld from no persons within the verge of his power and opportunity to do good. This practice commonly by a like phrase (unto which perhaps this word refers) is termed sowing: He, saith St Paul, which soweth sparingly shall also reap spar- ingly; and he which soweth bountifully shall also reap bountifully. Now, he that soweth, having chosen a good soil, and a fit season, doth not regard one particular spot, but throweth all about so much as his hand can hold, so far as the strength of his arm doth carry. It is likewise called watering: (He that watereth, saith Solomon, shall be watered himself :) which expression also seemeth to import a plentiful and promiscuous effusion of good drop- ping in showers upon dry and parched places ; that is, upon persons dry for want, or parched with
* Od yap oidy Te xpnuar’ Cxew pr) erypeodpevor, draws &yn.—Arist. Eth. rv. 1. (21.] b HD
Bounty to the Poor. 7
affliction. So the good man doth not plant his SERM. bounty in one small hole, or spout it on one nar-__™ row spot, but with an open hand disseminates it, with an impartial regard distils it all about. He stints it not to his own family or relations ; to his neighbours, or friends, or benefactors ; to those of his own sect and opinion, or of his humour and disposition ; to such as serve him, or oblige him, or please him; whom some private interest ties, or some particular affection endears him to ; but scat- ters it indifferently and unconfinedly toward all men that need it°; toward mere strangers, yea, toward known enemies; toward such who never did him any good, or can ever be able to do any ; yea, even toward them who have done evil to him, and may be presumed ready to do more. Nothing in his neighbour but absence of need, nothing in himself but defect of ability, doth curb or limit his beneficence. In that MHpo8uuia, (that proclivity and 2 Cor. viii. promptitude of mind,) which St Paul speaketh of, he doth good everywhere : wherever a man is, there is room for his wishing well, and doing good, if he can’: he observes that rule of the Apostle, As we Gal. si. ro. have opportunity, let us do good unto all men. So a a. the pious man hath dispersed. It follows, He hath given to the poor. These words denote the freeness of his bounty, and determine the prin- cipal object thereof: he not only lendeth (though he also doth that upon reasonable occasion ; for, A Ps. exii. 5. © "Ray idns twa Kakas Tacxovta, pndév meptepyatov Aoumdy® Exee 7d dixaleopa tis Bonbelas, Td Kaas wabeiv aitéy.—Tod cod €or, Kav "EAnv 7, Kav "lovdaios.—Chrys. in Heb. Orat. x. [Opp. Tom. Iv. p- 489.]
4 Ubicunque homo est, ibi beneficio locus est.—Sen. de Vit. B. cap. xxiv. [2.]
oom
Ps, xxxvii. 26.
Luke vi. 33> 34-
8 The Duty and Reward of
good man, as it is said before in this Psalm, shew- eth mercy, and lendeth ; and otherwhere, The right- eous ws ever merciful, and lendeth; he, I say, not only sometimes willingly lendeth) to those who in time may repay, or requite him; but he freely giveth to the poor, that is, to those from whom he can expect no retribution back. He doth not (as good and pious, he doth not) present the rich: to do so is but a cleanly way of begging, or a subtle kind of trade*; it is hardly courtesy ; it is surely no bounty ; for such persons (if they are not very sordid or very careless, and such men are not
usually much troubled with presents) will, it is likely
overdo him, or at least will be even with him in kindness. In doing this, there is little virtue ; for
it there will be small reward. For, If you do good .
to them who do good to you, (or whom you conceive able and disposed to requite you,) [lota yapis, what thanks are due to you? For that, saith our Saviour, even sinners (even men notoriously bad) do the same: And if you lend to them from whom you hope to receive, what thanks have you? For sinners even lend to sinners, to receive as much again. All men commonly, the bad no less than the good, are apt to be superfluously kind in heaping favours on those whom fortune befriends, and whose condition requires not their courtesy‘; every one almost is ready to adopt himself into the kindred, or to screw himself into the friendship of the wealthy and
© Qui diviti donat, petit. ‘He that giveth to the rich shall surely come to want.”—Proy. xxii. 16. “Orav & 6 Baipov eb d159, ri det Hior ; ‘Apxet yap avros 6 Ocds wpedciv OeAav.— Eurip. Orest. [667.]
Bounty to the Poor. 9
prosperous®: but where kindred is of use, there it SERM. is seldom found ; it is commonly so deaf, as not to__* hear when it is called; so blind, as not to discern its proper object and natural season, (Zhe time of Prov. xvii. adversity, for which a brother is born.) Men dis-*” claim alliance with the needy, and shun his ac- quaintance ; so the Wise Man observed, All the Prov. xix. brethren of the poor do hate him; how much more” i do his friends go far from him? Thus it is in vul- gar practice™: but the pious man is more judicious, more just, and more generous in the placing of his favours ; he is courteous to purpose, he is good to those who need. He, as such, doth not make large entertainments for his friends, his brethren, his Luke xiv. kindred, his rich neighbours ; but observes that pre- cts cept of our Lord, When thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind, and thou shalt be blessed: for they cannot recompense thee ; thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the just. Thus the pious man giveth, that is, with a free heart and pure intention bestoweth his goods on the indigent, without designing any benefit, or hoping for any requital to himself; except from God, in conscience, respect, and love to whom he doeth it.
It may be also material to observe the form of speech here used in reference to the time: He hath dispersed, and he hath given; or, He doth disperse, he doth give; (for in the Hebrew lan- guage the past and present times are not distin-
& Tév edrvxovvtav mavtes elot ovyyeveis.—[Menand. Sentent. sing. 510. (Ed. Meineke.)] - Ed mpacoe’ ra pitov & ovdéev, Hv ts dvatux7.—
Eurip. [Phen. 403.]
oer
Prov. iii. 28.
Jam. ii. 16,
10 The Duty and Reward of
guished :) which manner of speaking may seem to intimate the reality, or the certainty, and the con- stancy of his practice in this kind ; for what is past or present, we are infallibly secure of ; and in mo- rals, what one is said to have done, or to do, is always understood according to habit or custom. It is not, He will disperse, he will give; that were no fit description of a good man; to pretend to, would be no argument of piety; those words might import uncertainty, and delay im his practice. He that saith, J will give, may be fallacious in his pro- fessions, may be inconsistent with his resolutions, may wilfully or negligently let slip the due season of performing it. Our good man is not a Doson, or Will-give, (like that king of Macedon, who got. that name from often signifying an intention of giving, but never giving in effect';) he not only purposes well, and promises fairly for the future, but he hath effectually done it, and perseveres doing it upon every fit occasion. He puts not his neighbour into tedious expectations, nor puts him off with frivolous excuses, saying to him, as it is in the Proverbs, Go, and come again, and to-morrow I will give, when he hath it by him: he bids him not have patience, or says unto him, Depart in peace, when his need is urgent, and his pain im- patient, when hunger or cold do then pinch him, when sickness incessantly vexeth him, when pre- sent straits and burdens oppress him ; but he af- fordeth a ready, quick, and seasonable relief.
' He hath dispersed, and given, while he lives,
1 EmekAjOn S€ Adoav, ds émayyedtixds perv, od TercoLoupyds Se Tov trocxéeocov,—P ut. in Paulo mil. [Opp. Tom. 1v. p. 471. Ed. Steph. ]
Bounty to the Poor. 11
not reserving the disposal of all at once upon his sERM. death, or by his last will; that unwilling will, + whereby men would seem to give somewhat, when they can keep nothing; drawing to themselves those commendations and thanks, which are only due to their mortality: whenas were they immor- tal, they would never be liberal: No; it is, He hath Jreely dispersed; not an inevitable necessity will extort it from him ; it cannot be said of him, that he never does well, but when he dies*; so he hath , done it really and surely. om
He also doth it constantly, through all the a course of his life, whenever good opportunity pre- sents itself. He doth it not by fits, or by accident, according to unstable causes or circumstances mov- ing him, (when bodily temper or humour inclineth him, when a sad object makes vehement impression on him, when shame obligeth him to comply with the practice of others, when he may thereby pro- mote some design, or procure some glory to him- self}) but his practice is constant and uniform, being drawn from steady principles, and guided by certain rules, proceeding from reverence to God, and good-will toward man, following the clear dic- tates and immutable laws of conscience. Thus hath the pious man dispersed, and given to the poor: and let thus much suffice for explicatory reflection , upon the first words. a
The main drift and purport of which is, to represent the liberal exercising of bounty and mercy to be the necessary duty, the ordinary practice, and the proper character of a truly pious man ; so that
k
Avarus, nisi cum moritur, nil recte facit. [Publ. Syrus, Sentent. (Poet. Scen. Latin. Vol. vz. p. 227. Ed. Bothe.)]
SERM. iT.
I. Head of
discourse.
Deut. xv. 7, TX.
12 The Duty and Reward of
performing such acts is a good sign of true piety ; and omitting them is a certain argument of ungod- liness. For the demonstration of which points, and for exciting us to a practice answerable, I shall propound several considerations, whereby the plain reasonableness, the great weight, the high worth and excellency of this duty, together with its strict connection with other principal duties of piety, will appear. And first, I will shew with what advan- tage the holy scripture represents it to us, or presses it upon us.
1 We may consider, that there is no sort of duties which God hath more expressly commanded, or more earnestly inculcated, than these of bounty and mercy toward our brethren : whence evidently the great moment of them, and their high value in God’s esteem may be inferred. Even in the an- cient law, we may observe very careful provisions made for engaging men to works of this kind, and the performance of them is with huge life and urgency prescribed: Thou shalt not harden thy heart, nor shut thine hand from thy poor brother.— Thou shalt open thy hand wide unto thy brother, unto thy poor, and to thy needy in the land. So did Moses, in God’s name, with language very significant and emphatical, enjoin to the children of Israel. The holy prophets also do commonly with an especial heat and vigour press these duties, most smartly reproving the transgression or neg- lect of them; especially when they reclaim men from their wicked courses, urging them seriously to return unto God and goodness, they propose this practice as a singular instance most expressive of their conversion, most apt to appease God’s
Bounty to the Poor. | 13
wrath, most effectual to the recovery of his favour. \SERM. Wash you, saith God in Isaiah, make you clean; __* put away the evil of your doings from before mine ts. i. 16, eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do well. So in ‘ general he exhorts to repentance: then immedi-
ately he subjois these choice instances thereof :
Seck judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the Tsai. i. 17, Jatherless, plead for the widow.—Come now, then 5. Jer ar he adds, let us reason together: though your sins be ©
as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though
they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. When Daniel would prescribe to king Nebuchad- nezzar the best way of amendment, and the surest means of averting God’s judgments impendent on
him, he thus speaks: Wherefore, O king, let my Dan.iv.27. counsel be acceptable unto thee; break off thy sins
by righteousness, and thine iniquities by shewing mercy to the poor’. This he culled out as of all
pious acts chiefly grateful to God, and clearly tes- tifying repentance ; and, So very impious a person
was alms able to justify, says the Father thereupon”.
So also when God himself would declare what
those acts are which render penitential devotions
most agreeable to him, and most effectual, he thus expresseth his mind: Js not this the fast which J Isai. wii. have chosen? To loose the bands of wickedness, to ’ “ undo the heavy burdens, to let the oppressed go free,
and that ye break every yoke? Is it not to deal
thy bread to the hungry, and that thou bring the
poor that are cast out to thine house? when thou
1 Tas duaprias cou ev édenuooivas Aitpwca: so the LXX. ren- der those words, reading, it seems, N75 for P15
™ NaBovyodovdcop, Tov Towodtov ace3h, toxvoev 7 éenuoovyy dtxacaoar.—Athan. ad Antioch. Quest, Lxxxvu1. [Opp. Tom. m1. p- 288 E.]}
SERM. il
Luke xii. 335 V1. 30; xoeT Matt. xix. ai; Vi. 10.
14 The Duty and Reward of
seest the naked, that thou cover him; and that thou hide not thyself from thine own flesh? Of so great consideration and moment was this sort of duties, even under that old dispensation of weakness, ser- vility, and fear ; so much tenderness of compassion and benignity did God exact even from that hard- hearted and worldly people, who were so little capable of the best rules, and had encouragements, in comparison, so mean toward performances of this nature. The same we may well conceive, under the more perfect discipline of universal amity, of ingenuity, of spiritual grace and goodness, in a higher strain, with more force and greater obliga- tion to be imposed on us, who have so much stronger engagements, and immensely greater en- couragements to them. And so indeed it is: for those precepts delivered by our Lord, Sell all that you have, and give alms; If thou wilt be perfect, sell all that thou hast, and give to the poor; Gwe to every man that asketh thee; Treasure not up to yourselves treasures upon the earth, do indeed sound high, but are not insignificant or impertinent. They cannot signify or design less, than that we should be always, in affection and disposition of mind, ready to part with anything we have for the succour of our poor brethren ; that to the utmost of our ability (according to moral estimation pru- dently rated) upon all occasions we should really express that disposition in our practice ; that we are exceedingly obliged to the continual exercise of these duties in a very eminent degree. These indeed were the duties which our Lord, as he did, frequently in his discourse commend and prescribe, so he did most signally exemplify in his practice ;
Bounty to the Poor. 15
his whole life bemg in effect but one continual act SERM. of most liberal bounty and mercy toward mankind; __* in charity to whom he outdid his own severest rules, being content never to possess any wealth, never to enjoy any ease in this world. And therein (both as to doctrine and practice) did the holy apostles closely follow their Master: As poor, Yer 2) Cones enriching many; as having nothing, yet possessing *~ all things. So they throughly in deeds practised these duties, which in words they taught and earn- estly pressed ; admonishing their converts to Dis- poe xii. tribute to the necessities of the saints, to Do good to Gal.vi. 10. all men; To do good, and to communicate not to Heb. xiii. JSorget; to Shew mercy with cheerfulness, to Put on oe ‘ii. bowels of mercy ; to Be kind and tender-hearted one yy, iy. a0. toward another; to Abound in the grace of liberality. 2 Cor. viii. Such are their directions and injunctions to all” Christian people ; so did they preach themselves, and so they enjoined others to preach. Charge the x Tim. vi rich in this world, saith St Paul to his scholar *”* Timothy, that they do good, that they be rich in good works, ready to distribute, willing to commu- nicate; and, These things, saith he likewise, advis- Tit. iii. s. ing Bishop Titus, L will that thow affirm constantly, that they which believe in God may be careful to maintain good works; what good works he meaneth, the reason adjomed doth shew; for these things, saith he, ave good and profitable unto men.
2 It is imdeed observable, that as in every kind that which is most excellent doth commonly assume to itself the name of the whole kind; so among the parts of righteousness (which word is used to comprehend all virtue and goodness) this of exercising bounty and mercy is peculiarly called
SERM. if
Acts ix. 36. 1 Tim. v. TO; vi. 18. Tit. ii. 8, Te 2 Cor. ix. 8. Gal. vi. 9. Th. ro. Z Luke vi. 35-
Heb. xiii. 16.
Acts x. 38.
Mic. vi. 8.
Matt. xxiii. 23.
16 The Duty and Reward of
Righteousness ; so that Righteousness and Merciful- ness (or Almsdeeds,) the righteous and bountiful person, are in scripture expression ordinarily con- founded, as it were, or undistinguishably put one for the other ; it being often, when commendations are given to righteousness, and rewards promised to righteous persons, hard to discern, whether the general observance of God’s law, or the special practice of these duties, are concerned in them. Likewise works of this nature are in way of pecu- liar excellency termed Good works ; and to perform them is usually styled, Zo do good, and To do well ; (Aryabor épyaCecOat, Kadov ratetv, Ayaboepyetv, ‘Aya- Ooraeiv, Evoetv, Evepyeterv, are words applied to _ this purpose ;) which manners of expression do argue the eminent dignity of these performances.
3 We may also consequently mark, that in those places of scripture where the divine law is abridged, and religion summed up into a few par- ticulars of main importance, these duties constantly make a part: so when the prophet Micah brietly reckons up those things which are best in the law, and chiefly required by God, the whole catalogue of them consisting but of three particulars, mercy comes in for one; He hath shewed thee, O man, saith he, what ts good: and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? Likewise of those (Bap’tepa tov vouov, those) more substantial and Weighty things of God’s law the neglect of which our Saviour objecteth as an argument of impiety, and a cause of woe, to those pretending zealots, this is one: Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ; for ye pay tithe of mint and
Bounty to the Poor. 17
cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of SERM. the law, judgment, mercy, and faith. The sum of ae aee St John the Baptist’s instruction of the people is by St Luke reduced to this pot; Zhe people Luke iii. asked him, saying, What shall we do? He an- Be swering saith unto them, He that hath two coats, let him impart to him that hath none; and he that hath meat, let him do likewise. St James’s system of religion is this: Pure and undefiled religion Sam. i. 27. before God and the Father is this; to visit the fa- therless and widow in their affliction, (that is, to comfort and relieve all distressed and helpless per- sons,) and to keep himself unspotted from the world. St Paul seems to be yet more compendious and close: Bear ye, saith he, one another’s burdens, Gal. vi. 2. and so fulfil the law of Christ. Yea, God himself compriseth all the substantial part of religion herein, when, comparing it with the circumstantial part, he saith, I will have mercy, and not sacri- Hos. vi. 6. jice.
4 It is in like manner considerable, that in the general descriptions of piety and goodness, the practice of these duties is specified as a grand in- eredient of them. In this Psalm, where such a description is intended, it is almost the only par- ticular instance ; and it is not only mentioned, but reiterated in divers forms of expression. In the 37th Psalm it is affirmed and repeated, that The Ps. xxxvii. righteous sheweth mercy; he sheweth mercy, and*” i giveth; he sheweth mercy, and lendeth. In the Proverbs" it is a commendation of the virtuous woman, Whose price is far above rubies, that She prov. xxxi. stretcheth out her hand to the poor, yea, stretcheth *®**
» “The righteous giveth, and spareth not.”—Proy. xxi. 26.
B, 8. VOL. 1. 2
18 The Duty and Reward of
SERM. forth both her hands to the needy. And in Ezekiel, (which is especially remarkable,) the 18th chapter, where the principal things constitutmg a pious man are more than once professedly enumerated, this among a very few other particulars is ex- pressed, and taketh up much room in the account ; of such a person (who Shall surely live, and not die, ‘that is, who certainly shall abide in God’s favour, and enjoy the happy consequences thereof) it is Ezek.xviii. supposed, that he Nezther hath oppressed any, nor n° hath withholden the pledge, nor hath spoiled by vio- lence; but hath given lis bread to the hungry, and hath covered the naked with a garment, and hath
taken off his hand from the poor. 5 Also in the particular histories of good men, this sort of practice is specially taken notice Heb. xiii.2. of, and expressed in their characters. In the story of our father Abraham, his benignity to strangers, and hospitableness, is remarkable among all his deeds of goodness, being propounded. to us as a pattern and encouragement to the like practice. In this the conscience of Job did solace itself, as Job xxix. IN a Solid assurance of his integrity: I delivered 16” the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me, and I caused the widow's heart to sing. I was eyes to the blind, and feet I was to the lame; I was a father to the Job xxx, poor. Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? a Was not my soul grieved for the poor? Hence also did the good publican recommend himself to the favour and approbation of our Saviour, saying, Luke xix. Behold, Lord, half of my goods I give to the poor:
8, 9. : : . / hence did salvation come to his house: hence he is
Bounty to the Poor. 19
proclaimed, a son of Abraham. Of Dorcas, that SERM. good woman, who was so gracious and precious among the disciples, this is the commendation and character ; She was full of good works and alms- Actsix.36. deeds, which she did; such practice made her ca-
pable of that favour, so great and extraordinary,
the being restored to life; at least in St Chrysos-
tom’s judgment: The force of her alms, saith he, did conquer the tyranny of death®. Cornelius also, that excellent person, who was, though a Gentile, so acceptable to God, and had so extraordinary graces conferred on him, is thus represented ; He was a Acts x. 2. devout man, and one that feared God, with all his house; who gave much alms to the people, and prayed to God alway. We may add, that to be 1Tim. iii. hospitable (one branch of these duties, and inferring Tit. i. 8. the rest) is reckoned a qualification of those who
are to be the guides and patterns of goodness unto others. And particularly, one fit to be promoted
to a widow’s office in the church is thus described ;
Well reported of for good works; tf she have Tim. v. brought up children; if she have lodged strangers ;*~
if she have washed the saints’ feet; if she have re-
lieved the afflicted; if she have diligently followed
every good work.
6 So near to the heart of piety doth the holy Gat. v. 14. scripture lay the practice of these duties: and no ae ae wonder ; for it often expressly declares charity to {fi v4 be the fulfilling of God’s law, as the best expression '* of all our duty toward God, of faith in him, love and reverence of him, and as either formally con- taining, or naturally producing all our duty toward
© ‘H ris eXennoovvns Sivapts eviknoe Kat rovrov (Oavarov se.) rHv tupavvidia.—Chrys. in Gen. Orat. tv. [Opp. Tom. 1. p. 431.] 2—2
20 The Duty and Reward of
SERM. our neighbour. And of charity, works of bounty * and mercy are both the chief instances and the plainest signs: for whereas all charity doth consist
either in mental desire, or in verbal signification,
or in effectual performance of good to our neigh-
bour ; this last is the end, the completion, and the assurance of the rest’. Good-will is indeed the
root of charity ; but that lies under ground, and
out of sight ; nor can we conclude its being or life without visible fruits of beneficence. Good words
are at best but fair leaves thereof, such as may, and
too often do, proceed from a weak and barren dis- position of mind. But these Good works are real ee Jruits (so St Paul calls them ; Let ours also, saith 28. he, learn to maintain good works for necessary uses, PBT: that they be not unfruitful,) which declare a true life, and a good strength of charity in the bearer
2 Cor. viii. of them : by them, To ris UpeTépas aryamns ‘yvijctor, The sincerity (or genuineness) of our charity is proved. For as no man ever doth impress a false
stamp on the finest metal ; so costly charity is sel-
dom counterfeit. It is to decline spending their
goods or their pains, that men forge and feign ; pretending to make up in wishing well, the defect
of doing so, and paying words instead of things :
but he that freely imparts what he hath, or can do
for his neighbour’s good, needs no other argument
to evince that he loves in good earnest, nor can
indeed well use any other; for words, if actions are wanting, seem abusive ; and if actions are present,
_they are superfluous. Wherefore St John thus Johniti, advises ; My little children, let us not love in word,
P "Eriraots dyamns 6 €deos.—Greg. Nyss. in Matt. v. 7. [De Beatit. Orat. vy. Opp. Tom. 1. p. 803 a ]
Bounty to the Poor. 21
or in tongue, (AX épye Kal adyOeia,) but in work SERM. and in truth. To love in work, and to love in truth, he signifies to be the same thing; and to pretend love in speech, without practismg it in deed, he implies not allowable. And St James in way of comparison says, that as faith without works is dead, so love without beneficence is useless. For, If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of Sam. ii.1s, daily food, and one of you say unto him, Depart in nee peace, be you warmed and filled, notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body, what doth it profit? Even so faith with- out works is dead. Cold wishes of good, working no real benefit to our neighbour, and a faint assent unto truth, producing no constant obedience to God, are things near of kin, and of like value ; both of little worth or use. Charity then being’ the main point of religion, mercy and bounty being the chief parts of charity, well may these duties be placed in so high a rank, according to the divine: heraldry of scripture.
7 To enforce which observations, and that we may be further certified about the weight and worth of these duties, we may consider, that to the observ- ance of them most ample and excellent rewards are assigned; that, in return for what we bestow on our poor brethren, God hath promised all sorts of the best mercies and blessings to us. The best of all good things, (that which in David’s opinion was Ps. xiii. 3. better than life itself,) the fountain of all blessings, (God’s love and favour, or mercy,) is procured thereby, or is annexed to it. For, God loveth a 2Cor.ix.7. cheerful giver, saith St Paul; and, Zhe merciful Matt. v. 7. shall obtain mercy, saith our Saviour: and, Mercy Sam. ii.13.
SERM.
Matt. vi, Ta;
Ecclus. iii. 30,
Hos. vi. 6,
22 The Duty and Reward of
rejoiceth against judgment, (or boasteth, and tri- umpheth over iu § Kataxavyara €XEos Kplsews : that is, It appeaseth God’s wrath, and prevents our condemnation and punishment,) saith St James ; God will not continue displeased with him, nor will withhold his mercy from him, who is kind and merciful to his neighbour. It is true, if rightly understood, what the Hebrew Wise Man saith, Water will quench a flaming fire, and alms maketh an atonement for sins. For this practice hath the nature and name of a sacrifice, and is declared as such both in excellency and efficacy to surpass all other sacrifices ; to be most acceptable to God, most available for expiation of guilt, most effectual in obtainmg mercy and favour’, Other © sacrifices performed in obedience to God’s appoint- ment (on virtue of our Lord’s perfect obedience, and with regard to his pure sacrifice of himself) did in their way propitiate God, and atone sin: but this hath an intrinsic worth, and a natural aptitude to those purposes. Other obligations did signify a willingness to render a due homage to God : this really and immediately performs it. They were shadows or images well resembling that duty, (parting with anything we have for the sake of God, and for purchasing his favour,) whereof this is the body and substance. This is therefore pre- ferred as in itself excelling the rest, and more esti- mable in God’s sight; so that in comparison or competition therewith, the other seem to be slighted and rejected. J will, saith God, have mercy, and
2 Si nudum vestias, teipsum induis justitiam.—Ambr. Offic. 1.
11. (Opp. Tom. 1. col. 11 #.] Hier. in Psalm. exxxiii. [Opp. Tom. i. col. 475.] Chrys. Opp. Tom. y. Orat. ty. [p. 374.]
Bounty to the Poor. 23
not sacrifice: and, Will the Lord be pleased with SERM. thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers __* of ol? Will he? that is, he will not be pleased Mic. vi 7- with such sacrifices, if they be abstracted from the
more delightful sacrifices of bounty and mercy.
God never made an exception against these, or derogated from them in any case: they absolutely
and perpetually are, as St Paul speaketh, Odowrs Phi.iv.xs, of a sweet smell, sacrifices acceptable and well-pleas-
ing to God. And the apostle to the Hebrews seconds him: Zo do good, saith he, and to commu- Heb. xiii. nicate, forget not; for with such sacrifices God is*” well pleased. By these, all other works and all enjoyments are sanctified: for, Give alms, saith our Luke xi, Lord, of what ye have; and, behold, all things are*” pure unto you. Such charitable persons are there-
fore frequently pronounced blessed, that is, in effect instated in a confluence of all good things. Blessed Ps. xii. r. is he that considereth the poor, says the Psalmist ;
and, He that hath a bountiful eye is blessed, saith Prov. xxii. Solomon; and, He that hath mercy on the poor, iety. kin happy is he, saith the Wise Man again; and, *” Blessed are the merciful, saith our Lord himself. Matt. v. 7, So in gross and generally. Particularly also, and |
in retail, the greatest blessings are expressly allot- _
ted to this practice ; prosperity in all our affairs is promised thereto. Zhou, saith Moses, shalt surely Deut. XV. give thy poor brother, and thine heart shall not be grieved that thow givest unto him; because that for
this thing the Lord thy God shall bless thee in all
unto. Stability in a good condition is ordinarily © consequent thereon : so the prophet Daniel implies, — when, advising king Nebuchadnezzar to these
SERM.
24 The Duty and Reward of
works, he adds, If it may be a lengthening of thy
a or . . . . . __\ tranquillity. Deliverance from evil incumbent, pro- Dan-iv-27 tection in imminent danger, and support in aftlic-
tions, are the sure rewards thereof ; so the Psalmist
Ps. xli.t, assures us: Blessed, saith he, zs he that considereth
2a
Prov. XXViil. 27
Isai. lviii.
10, II, 12
Prov. xi. 25.
the poor: the Lord will deliver him in time of trouble. The Lord will preserve him and keep him alive, and he shall be blessed upon earth ; and thou wilt not deliver him unto the will of his enemies. The Lord will strengthen him upon the bed of lan- guishing ; thou wilt make all his bed in his sickness. Security from all want is likewise a recompense proper thereto : for, He that giveth to the poor shall not lack, saith the Wise Man. Jf thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, and satisfy the afflicted soul,” then shall thy light arise in obscurity, &e. Thriving in wealth and estate is another special reward: for, The liberal soul shall be made fat ; the same author gives us his word for it. Even of the good things here below, to those who for his sake in this or any
Matt. xix. other way do Let go houses or lands, our Lord pro-
29.
Luke xiv.
miseth the return of a hundredfold, either in kind or in value. So great encouragements are annexed to this practice even in relation to the concern- ments of this transitory life: but to them beside God hath destinated rewards incomparably more considerable and precious, spiritual and eternal rewards, treasures of heavenly wealth, crowns of endless glory, the perfection of joy and bliss to be dispensed At the resurrection of the just. He that
T4. : Matt. xix. for my sake hath left houses or lands, shall receive a
29. Mark x, 29; 39.
hundredfold now at this time, (or in this present life,) and in the world to come shall inherit ever- lasting life; so infallible truth hath assured us.
Bounty to the Poor. 25
They who perform these duties are said to Make SERM. themselves bags which wax not old, a treasure that faileth not in the heavens; to Make themselves pega Sriends of the unrighteous mammon, who, when they Jail, (when they depart, and leave their earthly wealth,) will receive them into everlasting habita- tions; to Lay up in store for themselves a good 1 Tim. vi. foundation against the time to come, that they may"? lay hold on eternal life. Such rewards are pro- mised to the observers.
8 And correspondently grievous punishments are designed and denounced to the transgressors of these duties ; the worst of miseries is their portion and doom: they, for being such, do forfeit God’s love and favour ; they lose his blessing and protec- tion ; they can have no sure possession, nor any comfortable enjoyment of their estate; for He, saith St James, shall have judgment without mercy, who Iam. ii. 13. sheweth no mercy. And of such a person it is said in Job, That which he laboureth for he shall restore, Job xx. 18, and shall not swallow it down: according to his? substance shall the restitution be, and he shall not rejoice therein ; because he hath oppressed and for- saken the poor. (Not only because he hath unjustly oppressed, but because he hath uncharitably for- saken the poor.) If by the divine forbearance such persons do seem to enjoy a fair Portion in Peay this life, (Prospering in the world, and increasing ~~ ae in riches,) they will find a sad reckoning behind in the other world: this will be the result of that audit; Woe be unto you, rich men, for ye have Luke vi. received your consolation; (such rich men are ** meant, who have got, or kept, or used their wealth basely ; who have detained all the consolation it
Luke xii.
Matt. xxv. 34) 35, 36.
26 The Duty and Reward of
yields to themselves, and imparted none to others;) and, Remember, son, thow didst recewe thy good things in this life; (so didst receive them, as to swallow them, and spend them here, without any provision or regard for the future in the use of them ;) and, Cast that unprofitable servant (who made no good use of his talent) into utter darkness. Such will be the fate of Hvery one that treasures up to himself, and is not rich unto God; not rich in piety and charity, not rich in performing for God’s sake works of bounty and mercy.
g It is indeed most considerable, that at the final reckoning, when all men’s actions shall be strictly scanned, and justly sentenced according to their true desert, a special regard will be had to — the discharge or neglect of these duties. It is the bountiful and merciful persons, who have relieved Christ in his poor members and brethren, who in that day will appear to be the sheep at the right hand, and shall hear the good Shepherd’s voice uttermg those joyful words, Come, ye blessed of my Father, enter into the kingdom prepared for you Jrom the foundation of the world: for I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; I was naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye
< came unto me. He doth not say, because you have made goodly professions, because you have been
orthodox in your opinions, because you have fre- quented religious exercises, (have prayed often and long, have kept many fasts, and heard many ser- mons,) because you have been staunch in your conversations, because you have been punctual in
Bounty to the Poor. 27
your dealings, because you have maintained a spe- SERM. cious guise of piety, sobriety, and justice; (although, __* indeed, he that will come off well at that great trial, must be responsible, and able to yield a good account in respect to all those particulars ;) but because you have been charitably benign and help-
ful to persons in need and distress, therefore blessed
are you, therefore enter into the kingdom of glori-
ous bliss prepared for such persons. This proceed-
ing more than intimates, that, in the judement of
our Lord, no sort of virtue or good practice is to
be preferred before that of charitable bounty ; or rather that, in his esteem, none is equal thereto:
so that if the question were put to him, which is
one of them to Antiochus, (in Athanasius’s works,) which is the most eminent virtue’ ? our Lord would resolve it no otherwise than is done by that father, affirming, that mercifulness is the queen of virtues;
for that, at the final account, the examination chiefly proceeds upon that ; it is made the special touchstone of piety, and the peculiar ground of happiness. On the other side, those who have been deficient in these performances (uncharitable
and unmerciful persons) will at the last trial appear
to be the wretched goats on the left hand, unto whom this uncomfortable speech shall by the great Judge be pronounced ; Depart from me, ye cursed, Matt. xxv. into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and *?*”** lus angels: for Iwas hungry, and ye gave me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink;
I was a stranger, and ye took me not in; naked, and ye clothed me not; sick and in prison, and ye visited me not. It is not, we may see, for having
* Quest. cxx. Inter Athan. Opp. Tom. 1. p. 297 B.] pp
28 The Duty and Reward of
sERM. done that which in this world is called rapine or
if:
wrong, for having pillaged or cozened their neigh- bour, for having committed adultery or murder, or any other thing prohibited, that these unhappy men are said to be formally impeached, and finally condemned to that miserable doom ; but for having been unkind and unmerciful to their poor brethren*: this at that high tribunal will pass for a most enor- mous crime, for the capital offence ; for this it is that they shall be cursed, and cast down into a wretched consortship with those malicious and merciless fiends, unto whose disposition they did so nearly approach.
Thus it appears how mighty a stress God in the holy scripture doth lay upon these duties, so peremptorily commanding them, so vehemently pressing them, so highly commending them, so graciously by promises alluring us to the perform- ance, so dreadfully by threatenings deterring us from the neglect of them. What an affront then will it be to God’s authority, what a distrust to his word, what a contempt of his power, his justice, his wisdom, what a despite to his goodness and mercy, if, notwithstanding all these declarations of his will and purposes, we shall presume to be un- charitable in this kind! There are also considera- tions, (very many, very clear, and very strong,) which discover the great reasonableness and equity of these laws, with our indispensable obligation to obey them; the which indeed with greater force
5 Ody dre Sippraxaow, ovd Ste ceovdAnkacw, 7) peporyevKacw, 7 GAXo Te TAY amNyopEevpevoy TeTOUKaTW, TavTnY THY Takw KatakpLlEvtTes, CAN Gre pry Xptorov dia trav Seopevwy tecpareixaow.—Greg. Naz. Orat. [xiv. Opp. Tom. I. p. 285 c.]
Bounty to the Poor. 29
do exact these duties from us, and do more earn- SERM. estly plead in the poor man’s behalf, than he can __* beg or cry. If we either look up unto God, or
down upon our poor neighbour, if we reflect upon ourselves, or consider our wealth itself, every
where we may discern various reasons obliging us,
and various motives inducing us to the practice of
these duties.
In regard to God,
1 We may consider, that, by exercising of —— bounty and mercy, we are kind and courteous to course. God himself; by neglecting those duties, we are unkind and rude to him: for that, what of good or evil is by us done to the poor, God interprets and accepts as done to himself. The poor have a pecu- liar relation to God; he openly and frequently professeth himself their especial friend, patron, and protector ; he is much concerned in, and particu- larly chargeth his providence with their support.
In effect therefore they shall surely be provided
for, one way or the other ; (Zhe poor shall eat and Ps.xxii.26; be satisfied: God will save the afflicted people: The mai Lord preserveth the strangers, he relieveth the futher-~*” s less and widow. When the poor and needy seek lsai-xli.r7. water, and there is none, and their tongue faileth
for thirst, I the Lord will hear them, I the God of
Israel will not forsake them :) but out of goodness
to us, he chooseth, (if it may be, we freely concur-
ring therein,) and best liketh, that it should be
done by our hands ; this conducing no less to our benefit, than to theirs ; we thereby having oppor-
tunity to shew our ae to himself, and to lay
an engagement on him to do us good, God there-
fore lendeth the poor man his own name, and
30 The Duty and Reward of
SERM. alloweth him to crave our succour for his sake.
x
(When the poor man asketh us in God’s name, or for God’s sake, he doth not usurp or forge, he hath good authority, and a true ground for doing so :) God gives him credit from himself unto us for what he wants, and bids us charge what he receiveth on his own account ; permitting us to reckon him obliged thereby, and to write him our debtor ; en- gaging his own word and reputation duly to repay,
Prov. xix.\ fully to satisfy us. He that hath pity on the poor
wy
lendeth to the Lord; and that which he hath given will he pay him again, saith the Wise Man : and,
Matt. xxv. Inasmuch as ye have done tt to the least of my bre-
49, 45-
thren, ye have done it unto me, saith our Saviour :
Heb. vi.ro. and, God is not unrighteous to forget your work and
labour of love, which ye have shewed toward his name, in that ye have ministered to the saints, and do minister, saith the apostle. What therefore we give to the poor, God accepteth as an expression of kindness to himself, being given to one of his friends and clients, in respect to him; he regards it as a testimony of friendly confidence in him, sig- _nifying that we have a good opinion of him, that we take him for able and willing to requite a good turn, that we dare take his word, and think our goods safe enough in his custody. But if we stop our ears, or shut our hands from the poor, God interprets it as a harsh repulse, and an heinous affront put upon himself: we doing it to one who bears his name, and wears his livery, (for the poor man’s rags are badges of his relation unto God,) he thereby judges, that we have little good-will, little respect, little compassion toward himself: since we vouchsafe not to grant him so mean a
Bounty to the Poor. 31
favour, since we refuse at his request, and (as it SERM. were) in his need, to accommodate him with a = small sum, he justly reputes it as an argument of unkindly diffidence in him, that we have sorry thoughts of him, deeming him no good corre- spondent, little valuing his word, suspecting his goodness, his truth, or his sufficiency.
2 We by practising those duties are just, by omitting them are very unjust toward God. For our goods, our wealth, and our estate are indeed none of them simply or properly our own, so that we have an absolute property in them, or an entire disposal of them: no, we are utterly incapable of such a right unto them, or power over them: God necessarily is the true and absolute proprietary of them. ‘They are called the gifts of God: but we Eccles. v. must not understand that God, by giving them to '?’”” us, hath parted with his own right to them: they are deposited with us in trust, not alienated from | him ; they are committed to us as stewards, not transferred upon us as masters: they are so ours, that we have no authority to use them according to our will or fancy, but are obliged to manage them according to God’s direction and order. He, by right immutable, is Lord paramount of all his creation ; every thing unalienably belongs to him upon many accounts. He out of nothing made all things at first, and to every creature through each moment a new being is conferred by his preserva- tive influence: originally therefore he is Lord of all things, and continually a new title of dominion over every thing springeth up unto him: it is his always, because he always maketh it. We our-\ selves are naturally mere slaves and vassals to him:
32 The Duty and Reward of
SERM. as we can never be our own, (masters of ourselves, * __ of our lives, of our liberties,) so cannot we ever
: , Properly be owners of any thing ; there are no pos-
“sible means by which we can acquire any absolute
title to the least mite ; the principal right to what
we seem to get, pecs Stee to all law and reason,
ae rgaccrueth to our master. All things about us, by Ixxxix.11; Which we live, with which we ae and trade, the *““ >" earth which supports and feeds us, and furnisheth us with all commodities, the air we breathe, the
sun and stars which cherish our life, are all of
them his, his productions and his possessions, sub- :sisting by his pleasure, subject to his disposal.
ow then can any thing be ours? How can we
tSamaxxv. say, With the foolish ing Nabal, Shall I take my bread, and my water, and my flesh, and give it?
Thine? O aecanetibeae man! How camest thou
by it? How dost thou hold it? Didst thou make
it? Or dost thou preserve it? Canst thou claim
any thing by nature‘? No; thou broughtest no-
thing with thee into the world; thou didst not
bring thyself hither. Canst thou challenge any
thing to thyself from chance? No, for there is no
such thing as chance, all things being guided and governed by God’s providence. Dost thou con-
ceive thy industry can entitle thee to any thing ?
Thou art mistaken ; for all the wit and strength
thou appliest, the head thou contrivest with, and
the hands thou workest with, are God’s; all the success thou findest did wholly depend on him, was
* Sed ais, Quid injustum est, si cum aliena non invadam, pro- pria diligentius servo? O impudens dictum, propria dicis? que? ex quibus reconditis in hunc mundum detulisti?—Ambros. [Serm. LxIv. Dom. viii. post Pent. Opp. Tom. v. fol. 92 u. Ed. Paris. 1632. |
Bounty to the Poor. 33
altogether derived from him ; all thy projects were ie an yain, all thy labours would Ke fruitless, did not he _—~ _ assist and bless thee. Thou dost vainly and falsely
Lift up thine heart, and forget the Lord thy God, Deut. vii. whenas thy herds and flocks multiply, and thy silver :3."°?*” and gold is multiplied, and all that thow hast is multiplied ; of thou sayest in thy heart, My power, and the might of my hand, hath gotten me this wealth. But thou must remember the Lord thy God, for it as he that giveth thee power to get wealth. [. Who am J, saith David, and what 1s my 1 Chron. people, that we should be able to offer so willingly ie after this sort? For all things come of thee; and of thine own have we given thee.| Since then upon all scores every thing we have doth appertain to God, he may without any injury recall or resume whatever he pleaseth ; and while he letteth any thing abide with us, we cannot justly use it other- wise than he hath appointed, we cannot duly apply it otherwise than to his interest and service’... God then having enjoined, that after we have satisfied our necessities, and supplied our reasonable occa- sions, we should employ the rest to the relief of our poor neighbours; that If we have two coats, Luke iii. (one more than we need,) we should impart one to” him that hath none ; of we have meat abundant, that we likewise communicate to him that wants it:
" Aliena rapere convincitur, qui ultra necessaria sibi retinere probatur.—Hieron.
Quicquid enim nobis Deus plusquam opus est dederit, non nobis specialiter dedit, sed per nos aliis erogandum transmisit ; si non dederimus, res alienas invasimus.—Aug. [Serm. cLXXVIII. Opp. Tom. v. col. 461 F.]
Terra communiter omnibus hominibus data est, proprium nemo dicat quod commune; plus quam sufliceret, sumptum et violenter obtentum est.—Ambros. [ubi supra. fol. 92 .]
BS VOL, lL 3
34 The Duty and Reward of
SERM. God, by the poor man’s voice, (or by his need and *_Ymisery,) demanding his own from us, we are very unjust if we presume to withhold it; doubly unjust we are, both toward God and toward our neigh- bour : we are unfaithful stewards, misapplying the goods of our Master, and crossing his order*: we are wrongful usurpers, detaining from our neigh- bour that which God hath allotted him ; we are in the court of conscience ; we shall appear at the bar of God’s judgment no better than robbers, (under vizards of legal right and possession,) spoiling our | poor brother of his goods ; his, I say, by the very ‘Kame title as any thing can be ours, by the free donation of God, fully and frequently expressed, as we have seen, in his holy word. (He cannot take it away by violence or surreption against our will, but we are bound willingly to yield it up to him ; to do that, were disorder in him ; to refuse (this, is wrong in us.) “Tis the hungry man’s bread which we hoard up in our barns, ’tis his meat on which we glut, and his drink which we guzzle’: ‘tis the naked man’s apparel which we shut up in our presses, or which we exorbitantly ruffle and flaunt in: “tis the needy person’s gold and silver which we closely hide in our chests, or spend idly, or put out to useless use. We are in thus holding, or thus spending, truly [IAcovéxra:, not only covet- ous, but wrongful, or havers of more than our own, ‘against the will of the right owners ; plainly vio- * 30 b€ ovk dmootepnti)s, & mpods oikovopiay edé€@, Tadra iSia geavTod movovpmevos ;—Bas. M. (Hom. in Luc. xm. 18. Opp. Tom. 1.
p- 50 B.] ¥ Nostrum est (pauperes clamant) quod effunditis; nobis cru-
deliter subtrahitur, quod inaniter expenditis—— Bern. Ep. x1. [(De Offic. Episc.) Opp. Tom. I. col. 470 B.]
Bounty to the Poor. 35
lating that precept of Solomon ; Withhold not good SERM. from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power ___* of thy hand to do it. If we are ambitious of having pie iii a property in somewhat, or affect to call any thing our own, ‘tis only by nobly giving that we can accomplish our desire; that will certainly appro- priate our goods to our use and benefit : but from basely keeping, or vainly embezzling them, they become not our possession and enjoyment, but our theft and our bane’. (These things, spoken after the holy fathers, wise instructors in matters of piety, are to be understood with reasonable tem- perament, and practised with honest prudence. I cannot stand to discuss cases, and remove scruples; a pious charity will easily discern its due limits and measures, both declining perplexity, and not evad- ing duty. The sum is, that justice towards God’ and man obligeth us not to suffer our poor brother to perish, or pine away for want, when we surfeit and swim in plenty, or not to see him lack neces-_, sarles, when we are well able to relieve him.) 3
3 Shewing bounty and mercy are the most proper and the principal expressions of our grati- tude unto God ; so that in omitting them, we are not only very unjust, but highly ingrateful. Innu- merable are the benefits, favours, and mercies, (both common and private,) which God hath be-
~ stowed on us, and doth continually bestow: he
incessantly showers down blessings on our heads ; He daily loadeth us with his benefits; he perpetu- ps. ixviii.
; cli, 4.
ally Crowneth us with lovingkindness and tender *?’
” Omne igitur quod male possidetur, alienum est: male autem possidet, qui male utitur.—August. [Ep. cuir. ad Maced. Opp. Tom. u. col. 534 £.]
3—2
a
Ps. exvi. 32.
Ps. xvi. 2. Job xxi
36 The Duty and Reward of
mercies: all that we are, all that we have, all that we can hope for of good, is alone from his free bounty : our begs and lives, with all the conve- niences and comforts of them, we entirely owe to him as to our Maker, our Preserver, our constant Benefactor: all the excellent privileges we enjoy, and all the glorious hopes we have as Christians, we also stand indebted for purely to his undeserved mercy and grace. And, What shall we render unto the Lord for all his benefits toward us? Shall we render him nothing? Shall we refuse him any- thing? Shall we boggle at making returns so in- considerable, in regard to what he hath done for us? What is a little gold, or silver, or brass per- haps, which our poor neighbour craveth of us, in comparison to our life, our health, our reason ; to all accommodations of our body, and all endow- ments of our mind? What are all the goods in the world to the love and favour of God, to the pardon of our sins, to the gifts of God’s Spirit, to the dignity of being the children of God and heirs of salvation; to the being freed from extreme miseries, and made capable of eternal felicity ? And doth not this unexpressible goodness, do not all these inestimable benefits require some corre- spondent thankfulness ? Are we not obliged, shall we not be willing to exhibit some real testimony thereof? And what other can we exhibit beside this? We cannot directly or immediately requite God, for he cannot so receive anything from us ; he is not capable of being himself enriched or exalted, of being anywise pleasured or bettered by us, who is in himself infinitely sufficient, glorious, . Joy ful, and happy: Our goodness extends not to
Bounty to the Poor. 37
him; A man cannot be profitable to his Maker. All that we can do in this kind is thus indirectly, in the persons of his poor relations, to gratify him, imparting at his desire, and for his sake, somewhat of what he hath bestowed on us upon them. Such a thankful return we owe unto God, not only for what he hath given us, but even for the capacity of giving to others ; for that we are in the num- ber of those who can afford relief, and who need not to demand it®. Our very wealth and prosper- ous state should not seem to us so contemptible things, that we should be unwilling to render somewhat back in grateful resentment for them : the very act of giving is itself no mean benefit ; (having so much of honour in it, so much of plea- sure going with it, so much of reward following it ;) we receive far more than we return in giving ; for which therefore it is fit that we should return our gratitude, and consequently that we should perform these duties. For indeed without this practice, no other expression of gratitude can be true in itself, or can be acceptable to God. We
"may seem abundantly to thank him in words ; but
a sparing hand gives the lie to the fullest mouth :
® Ads tt 7G Ged xapioripiov, drt Tav ed Torety Suvapevov eyévov, GN’ od raved mabeiv Seouevev.—Greg. Naz. [Orat. x1v. Opp. Tom. 1. p: 276 a.]
—Toiv prdrOporov iprvica Seomdtyv, dtu tots ddXorplows pas cahpoviter rabjpact, kal ovk npas eis érépwv mapémepwev oikias, GAN eis Tas nmerepas GdXovs tyaye Ovpas.—Theodor. Ep. xxx. [Opp. Tom. Ir. p. 920 c.]
Ei pi vopifers AapBavew padrov, 77 Siddvar, py mwapacyns.— Chrys. Orat. tiv. [Opp. Tom. vy. p. 365.]
Neque enim homo Deo prestat beneficium in his que dederit, sed Deus in his homini que acceperit.—Salvian, [ady. Ayar. Lib. 1. p. 234. Ed. Baluz.]
SERM. dln
SERM. £.
Prov. xxi. 13,
Isai. i. 15.
James v. 4. Ecclus. iv. 4, 5, 6.
38 The Duty and Reward of
we may spare our breath, if we keep back our sub- stance ; for all our praising God for his goodness, and blessing him with our lips, if we will do nothing for him, if we will not part with anything for his sake, appears mere compliment; is, in truth, plain mockery, and vile hypocrisy.
4. Yea, which we may further consider, all our devotion, severed from a disposition of practising these duties, 1s no less such ; cannot have any true worth in it, shall not yield any good effect from it. Our prayers, if we are uncharitably disposed, what are they other than demonstrations of egregious impudence and folly? For how can we with any face presume to ask anything from God, when we deny him requesting a small matter from us ? How can we with any reason expect any mercy from him, when we vouchsafe not to shew any mercy for his sake? Can we imagine that God will hearken unto, or mind our petitions, when we are deaf to his entreaties, and regardless of his desires? No; Whoso stoppeth his ears at the cry of the poor, he also shall ery himself; but shall not be heard. "Tis his declaration to such bold and unreasonable — petitioners, When you spread forth your hands, I will not hear you; when you make many prayers, I will not hear. No importunity, no frequency of prayers will move God in such a case; the needy man’s cries and complaints will drown their noise ; his sighs and groans will obstruct their passage, and stop the ears of God against them. Likewise all our semblances of repentance, all our corporal abstinences and austerities, if a kind and merciful disposition are wanting, what are they truly but presumptuous dallyings, or impertinent triflings
Bounty to the Poor. 39
with God? For do we not grossly collude with sin, SERM. when we restrain the sensual appetites of the body, but foment the soul’s more unreasonable desires ; when we curb our wanton flesh, and give licence to a base spirit?? Do we not palpably bafile, when in respect to God we pretend to deny ourselves, yet upon urgent occasion allow him nothing? Do we not strangely prevaricate, when we would seem to appease God’s anger, and purchase his favour by our submissions, yet refuse to do that which he declares most pleasing to him, and most necessary to those purposes? It is an ordinary thing for men thus to serve God, and thus to delude them- selves: I have known many, saith St Basil, who have fusted, and prayed, and groaned, and ea- pressed all kind of costless prety, who yet would not part with one dort to the afflicted’. Such a cheap 2 Sam. and easy piety, which costs us little or nothing, can” “* surely not be worth much; and we must not con- ceit, that the all-wise God (The God of knowledge, 1 Sam. ii.3. by whom actions are weighed, as Anna sang, and who Weigheth the spirits also, as the Wise Man Prov. xvi, saith) will be cheated therewith, or take it for more ~ than its just value. No; he hath expressly signi- fied, that he hath Not Mee such services, nor Isai. Wil doth take any pleasure in them: he hath called ?, - 14. them Vain and impertinent oblations ; not Sweet * %% or acceptable, but abominable and troublesome to Jer. vi. 20, him, such as he cannot away with, and is weary to bear. "Tis religious liberality that doth prove us
» TL d€ Képdos, coppootvn pera aravOpwmias ; &c.—Chrys. Or. Ly. [Opp. Tom. y. p. 373.]
© Oida moddols yvnoTEvVorTas, MporevxopEevous, oreviovras, macav
riv ddaravoy evAdBeray evderxvupevous, dBoddv dé Eva py mpotepevous
trois O\tBouevors.—Bas. M. [Hom. in Div. Opp. Tom. nu. p. 54¢.]
SERM.
Acts x. 4.
a att. vi.
40 The Duty and Reward of
to be serious and earnest in other religious per- formances ; which assures that we value matters
\ of piety at a considerable rate ; which gives a sub-
‘stance and solidity to our devotions ; which sanc- tifies our fasts, and verifies our penances ; which renders our praises real, and our prayers effectual ; so that these being combined, we may reasonably expect acceptance and recompense ; and in effect to hear that from God, which by him was returned to good Cornelius, Thy prayers and thine alms are come up for a memorial before God.
5 Theconscionable practice of these duties doth plainly spring from those good dispositions of mind regarding God, which are the original grounds and fountains of all true piety; and the neglect of them issueth from those vicious dispositions which have a peculiar inconsistency with piety, being destruc- tive thereof in the very foundation and root. Faith in God is the fundamental grace upon which piety is grounded ; love and fear of God are the radical principles from which it grows: all which as the charitable man discovers in his practice, so they are apparently banished from the heart of the illi- beral and unmerciful person.
As for faith, the good man, in shewing bounty, exerciseth the chief act thereof; he freely parteth with his goods, because he trusteth on God’s provi- dence more than them, and believeth God more ready to help him, than any creature can do, in his need ; because he is persuaded that God is most good and benign, so as never to suffer him to be oppressed with want ; because he taketh God to be just and faithful, ae, having charged him To care
Pil. iv.6. for nothing, but To cast his care oonts burden upon
Bounty to the Poor. 4]
the Lord, having promised to care for him, to Sus- SERM. tain him, Never to leave or forsake him, having also __* engaged himself to repay and recompense him for rPet.v. 7. what he giveth to his poor neighbour, will not fail Heb. xiii. to make good his word ; eee he thinks God” abundantly solvent, and himself never the poorer
for laying out in his behalf; because, in short, he
is content to live in a dependance upon God, and
at his disposal. It is mentioned by the apostle to
the Hebrews, as a special instance of a resolute and constant faith in the first Christians, that They Heb. x. 34 took joyfully the spoiling of their goods, knowing m themselves that they had in heaven a better and an enduring substance. He that not forcibly by the violent rapacity of others, but voluntarily by his
own free resignation for the service of God deliver-
eth them up with the same alacrity, opinion, and
hope, thereby demonstrates the same faith. But
the gripple wretch, who will bestow nothing on his
poor brother for God’s sake, is evidently an infidel, having none at all, or very heathenish conceits of God*. He must be either a mere atheist, disbe- lieving the existence of God; or an epicurean, in
his heart denying God’s providence over human affairs; (for did he conceive God to have any regard unto, or any influence over what passes
here, how could he be afraid of wanting upon this score ? how could he repose any confidence in these possessions ? how could he think himself secure in
such a neglect or defiance of God?) or he must be exceedingly profane, entertaining most dishonour-
4 <Q yap rowidros od Th Oecd memiorevkev, GANA TH EavTod xpvoia, Gecdv TovTo ryovpevos, Kal ex aito memoilads.—Const. Apost. Iv. 4. [Cotel. Pat. Apost. Tom. 1. p. 293.]
SERM. at
Hab. ii. 9.
42 The Duty and Reward of
able and injurious apprehensions of God. He cannot but imagine God very unkind, not only in neglecting men that want his help, but in making them to suffer for spending upon his account ; very unjust, in not repaying what he borrows; very unfaithful, in breaking his word ; very deceitful, in gulling us of our things by fair promises of resti- tution and requital: or he must apprehend God forgetful of what we do, and himself says ; or that he is needy and impotent, not having wherewith to make satisfaction, not being able to make good what he pretends. He must in his conceit debase God even beneath the vilest creatures, thmking a senseless lump of clay more apt in his need to help him, than God can be with all his power and care; supposing his money safer in his own coffers than in God’s hands, and that iron bars will guard it more surely than divine protection ; esteeming his neighbour’s bond for much better security than God’s word, and that a mortal man is far more able or more true than the eternal God. He cer- tainly cannot think one word true that God says, being loath to trust him for a penny, for a piece of bread, or for an old garment. All God’s promises of recompense, and threatenings of punishment, he takes for idle fictions: heaven and hell are but Utopias in his conceit ; the joys of one, offered to the charitable person, are but pleasant fancies ; the torments of the other, denounced to the uncha- ritable, but fearful dreams. All other things are but names; money and lands are the only real things unto him ; all the happiness he can conceive or wish is contained in bags and barns; these are the sole points of his faith, and objects of his con-
Bounty to the Poor. 43
fidence. He makes gold his hope, and saith to the fine gold, Thou art my confidence. LHe rejoices
SERM.
because his wealth is great, and because his hand Job xxx.
hath gotten much, as Job speaketh, disclaiming that practice in himself, and tacitly charging it on the persons we speak of. He doth, in fine, affect a total independency upon God, and cares to have no dealing with him ; he would trust to himself, and live on his own estate: so gross infidelity and horrible profaneness of mind le couched under this sort of vices.
As for the love of God, the liberal man declares it, in that for God’s sake he is willing to part with anything, that he values God’s love and favour above all other goods ; that he deems himself rich and happy enough in the enjoyment of God. But, Who hath this world’s goods, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him? saith St John: that is, it is impossible he should love God; ’tis a vain conceit to think he does ; ’tis a frivolous thing for him to pretend it. For how possibly can he bear in his heart any affection to God, who will not for his sake, and at his instance, part with a little worthless trash and dirty pelf? who prizes so inconsiderable matters beyond God’s favour and friendship ? who prefers the keeping of his wealth before the enjoyment of God; and chooses rather certainly to quit his whole interest in God, than to adventure a small parcel of his estate with God ? His practice indeed sufficiently discovers, that his hard and stupid heart is uncapable of any love, except of a corrupt, mordinate, and fond love, or dotage toward himself, since so present and sensi-
7] .
1 John iil.
17.
—
1 John iy. 20.
Ps. cxix. 127; exix. 72;
Exod. xviii.
21.
Col. iii. . Eph. Vv. 5.
44 The Duty and Reward of
ble objects cannot affect him. He that loveth not his brother, whom he oo seen, how can he love God, whom he hath not seen ?
And as to the fear and reverence of God, the liberal man expresses it in submission to God’s commands, although with his own present seeming diminution and loss ; in preferring the discharging of his conscience before the retaining his money ; in casting overboard his temporal goods, that he may secure his spiritual and eternal concernments. He can say (his practice attesting to his profession) with David, I love thy commandments above gold ; and, The law of thy mouth 7s dearer to me than thousands of gold and silver: he shews that he is A man of truth, fearing God, and hating covetous- ness; which dispositions, as having much affinity and connection, are well joined together by Jethro. But the uncharitable man can have little fear of God before his eyes: since the commands of God have no efficacy on his conscience ; since he dreads not the effects of divine power and justice, pro- voked by his disobedience; since he deems an imaginary danger of want from giving, worse than a certain commission of sin in withholding ; and is more afraid of penury here, than of damnation hereafter.
The truth is, the covetous or iliberal man is therefore uncapable of being truly pious, because his heart is possessed with vain devotion toward somewhat beside God, which in effect is his sole divinity ; he is justly styled an idolater, for that he directs and employs the chief affections of his mind upon an idol of clay, which he loves with all his heart and all his soul, which he entirely confides
Bounty to the Poor. 45
in, which he esteems and worships above all things. SERM. It is Mammon, which of all the competitors and __*__ antagonists of God, invading God’s right, and usurping his place, is (as our Lord intimates) the most dangerous, and desperately repugnant : where he becomes predominant, true religion is quite excluded; Ye cannot serve God and mammon. Matt. vi. Other vicious inclinations combat reason, and often * baffle it, but seldom so vanquish it, as that a man doth approve or applaud himself in his miscar- riages: but the covetous humour seizeth on our reason itself, and seateth itself therein ; inducing it to favour and countenance what is done amiss. The voluptuous man is swayed by the violence of his appetite ; but the covetous is seduced by the dictate of his judgment: he therefore scrapes and hoards, and lets go nothing, because he esteems wealth the best thing in the world, and then judges himself most wise, when he is most base. Labowr Prov. xxiii. not to be rich ; cease from thine own wisdom, saith x Solomon ; intimating the judgment such persons are wont to make of their riches: whence, of all dispositions opposite to piety, this 1s the most per- | nicious. But further, (3
6 Let us consider, that nothing is more con- formable to God’s nature, or renders us more like to him, than beneficence and mercy ; and that con- sequently nothing can be more grateful to him: that nothing is more disagreeable and contrary to the essential disposition of God, than illiberality and unmercifulness; and therefore that nothing can be more distasteful to him. What is any being in the world, but an efflux of his bounty, and an argu- ment of his liberality? Look everywhere about
SERM.
Exod. Xxxiv. 6. Joel ii. 13. Mic. vii.
2 Cor. xiii. D3. James v. nie
1 Pet. v. IO.
Luke vi.
35- Ps, cxlv. 9.
46 The Duty and Reward of
nature, and consider the whole tenor of providence, survey all the works, and scan all the actions of God, you will find them all conspiring in attesta- tion to those sweet characters and elogies which the holy scripture ascribeth to God, representing him to be Merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abundant in goodness; to be Sorry for evil, (inci- dent to, or inflicted upon any creature,) to Delight in mercy, to Wait that he may be gracious ; styling him the God of love, of peace, of hope, of satience, of all grace, and of all consolation, the Father of pities, rich in mercy, and full of bowels ; affirming of him, and by manifold evidences demonstrating, that he is Benign even unto the ungrateful and evil; that He is good to all, and his tender mercies are over all his works. Nature, I say, providence, and revelation, do all concur in testifying this, that there is nothing in God so peculiarly admirable, nothing, as it were, so godlike, that is, so highly venerable and amiable, as to do good and shew mercy®. We therefore by liberal communication to the needy do most approach to the nature of God, and most exactly imitate his practice ; acquir- ing to ourselves thereby somewhat of divinity, and becoming little gods to our neighbour’. Nothing, saith St Chrysostom, maketh us so near equal to God as beneficence?: and, Be, saith St Gregory Nazianzen, a god to the unfortunate, imitating the
© Gcod roddGy dvrav ed’ ois Oavpdterar, ovdev ovTws ws Td Tav- Tas evepyeteiv, iSudrarov.— Greg, Naz. Orat. [xxxu. Tom. I. Opp. p. 596 £.]
f Deus est mortali juvare mortalem.—Plin. Hist. Nat. 1. [5. 4.]
8 Ovdev yap pas toovs Oc roret, ws Td evepyereiv.—Chrys. in Matt. Hom. xxxv. [Opp. Tom. 1. p. 243.]
Bounty to the Poor. 47
mercy of God; for a man hath nothing of God so much as to do good’. That such hath always been the common apprehension of men, the prac- tice of all times sheweth, in that men have been ever apt to place their benefactors among their gods, deferring that love and veneration unto them in degree, which in perfection do appertain to the
SERM.
supreme Benefactor’. Be merciful, as your heavenly Luke vi.
Father is merciful ; so our Saviour proposeth God’s mercy to us, both as a pattern directing, and as an argument inducing us to mercifulness : implying it also to be a good sign, declaring us the children of God, the genuine offspring of the all-good and all- merciful Father; yea, that it even renders and constitutes us such, (we thereby coming most truly to represent, and most nearly to resemble him).
35, 30.
Our Lord further teaches us, saying, Love your Matt. v.
enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to those that hate you...... that ye may be the sons of your Father which is ir heaven. And they who thus are God’s children must consequently be very dear to him, and most gracious in his sight ; he cannot but greatly like and love himself (the best of him- self) in them; he cannot but cherish and treat them well, who are the fairest and truest images of himself; no spectacle can be so pleasant to him, as to see us in our practice to act himself, doing good
2 Pévov T@ drvxovvtt Geds, Tov €heoyv TOU Oeod pynodpevos. Ovdev yap ovras, ds Td ed roteiv, avOpamos exer Ocod.—Greg. Naz. [Orat. xiv. Opp. Tom. 1. p. 276 B.]
* Hic est vetustissimus referendi bene merentibus gratiam mos, ut tales numinibus adscribantur [ascribant].—Plin. Nat. Hist. 1. 7. [u. 5. 5.]
Suscepit vita hominum, consuetudoque communis, ut beneficiis
excellentes viros in ccelum fama ac yoluntate tollerent.—Cic. de Nat. Deor. 1. [24, 62.]
44, 45-
48 The Duty and Reward of
SERM. to one another; As the elect of God, holy and be- * loved, putting on bowels of mercies and kindness, rt humbleness of mind, meckness, longsuffering ; for- bearing one another, and forgiving one another, Eph.v.1,2. even as Christ forgave us; Being followers of God as dear children, and walking wm love, even as Christ also loved us. But on the other side, there
is not in nature anything so remotely distant from God, or so extremely opposite to him, as a greedy
and griping niggard: hell is scarce so contrary to heaven, as such a man’s disposition to the nature
of God: for ’tis goodness which sits gloriously triumphant at the top of heaven; and unchari- tableness lieth miserably grovelling under the bot- tom of hell: heaven descends from the one, as its principal cause ; hell is built on the other, as its main foundation: as the one approximates the blessed angels to God, and beatifies them; so the other removeth the cursed fiends to such a distance from God and happiness: not to wish, not to do any good, is that which renders them both so bad
and so wretched ; and whoever in his conditions is
so like to them, and in his practice so agrees with them, cannot but also be very odious to God, and extremely unhappy. God cannot but abhor so base a degeneration from his likeness in those who
by nature are his children, and should be further such according to his gracious design ; neither can anything more offend his eyes, than seeing them
to use one another unkindly. So that if obtaming
the certain favour of the great God, with all the benefits attending it, seem considerable to us ; or if
we think it advisable to shun his displeasure, with
its sad effects; it concerns us to practise these
Bounty to the Poor. 49
duties. So I conclude that sort of considerations, SERM. enforcing these duties, which more immediately —” regard God.
Further, before we deny our relief to our poor III. Head neighbour, let us with the eyes of our mind look on pete him, and attentively consider who he is, what he is in himself, and what he is in relation unto us. Zhe Prov. xxix. righteous considereth the cause of the poor; but the” wicked regardeth not to know it. Blessed is he that Ps. xli.«. considereth the poor. )
1 He whose need craves our bounty, whose | misery demands our mercy, what is he? He is not truly so mean and sorry a thing, as the diseuise of misfortune, under which he appears, doth represent him. He who looks so deformedly and dismally, who to outward sight is so ill bestead, and so piti- fully accoutred, hath latent in him much of admira- ble beauty and glory. He within himself containeth a nature very excellent ; an immortal soul, and an intelligent mind, by which he nearly resembleth God himself, and is comparable to angels: he invi- sibly is owner of endowmeuts, rendering him capable of the greatest and best things. What are money and lands? What are silk and fine men? What are horses and hounds, in comparison to reason, to wisdom, to virtue, to religion, which he hath, or (in despite of all misfortune) he may have if he please?
He whom you behold so dejectedly sneaking, in so despicable a garb, so destitute of all convenience and comfort, (lying in the dust, naked, or clad with rags, meagre with hunger or pain,) he comes of a most high and heavenly extraction : he was born a prince, the son of the greatest King eternal; he can truly call the sovereign Lord of all the world B.S. VOL. I. 4
SERM.
I.
Prov. xxii. 2.
Gen. i. 28.
Ps. viii. 6.
50 The Duty and Reward of
his father, having derived his soul from the mouth, having had his body formed by the hands of God himself. (In this, The rich and poor, as the Wise Man saith, do meet together ; the Lord is the maker of them all.) 'That same forlorn wretch, whom we are so apt to despise and trample upon, was framed and constituted lord of the visible world ; had all the goodly brightnesses of heaven, and all the costly furnitures of earth created to serve him. (Thou madest him, saith the Psalmist of man, to have dominion over the works of thine hands ; thou hast put all things under his feet.) Yea, he was made an inhabitant of paradise, and possessor of felicities superlative ; had immortal life and endless joy in his hand, did enjoy the entire favour and friendship of the Most High. Such in worth of nature and nobleness of birth he is, as a man ; and highly more considerable he is, as a Christian. For, as vile and contemptible as he looks, God hath so regarded and prized him, as for his sake to descend from heaven, to clothe himself with flesh, to assume the form of a servant; for his good to undertake and undergo the greatest inconveniences, infirmities, wants, and diseraces, the most grievous troubles and most sharp pains incident to mortal nature. God hath adopted him to be his child ; the Son of God hath deigned to call him brother: he is a member of Christ, a temple of the Holy Ghost, a free denizen of the heavenly city, an heir of salva- tion, and candidate of eternal glory. The greatest and richest personage is not capable of better pri- vileges than God hath granted him, or of higher preferments than God hath designed him to. He equally with the mightiest prince is the object of
Bounty to the Poor. 51
God’s especial providence and grace, of his con- SERM.
tinual regard and care, of his fatherly love and
affection ; who, as good Elihu saith, Accepteth not Job xxxiv.
the persons of princes, nor regardeth the rich more‘
than the poor; for they are all the work of lus
hands. In fine, this poor creature whom thou
seest is a man, and a Christian, thine equal, who-
ever thou art, in nature, and thy peer in condition*:
I say not, in the uncertain and unstable gifts of
fortune, not in this worldly state, which is very
inconsiderable ; but in gifts vastly more precious,
in title to an estate infinitely more rich and excel-
lent. Yea, if thou art vain and proud, be sober
and humble ; he is thy better, in true dignity much
to be preferred before thee, far in real wealth sur-
passing thee: for, Better is the poor that walketh in weclus. x.
his uprightness, than he that is perverse in his ways, Prov.
though he be rich. a oes 2 That distinction which thou standest upon,
and which seemeth so vast between thy poor neigh-
bour and thee, what is it? whence did it come?
whither tends it? It is not anywise natural, or |
according to primitive design: for as all men are
in faculties and endowments of nature equal, so
K "Evydnoov, Ott dpolws cou edetOepds ott, Kai Ths adtis cot kowavet evyevelas, Kal mdavTa got Kowd “Kéxtntat.—Chrys. in Heb. Orat. x1. (Opp. Tom. Iv. p. 493 ]
Oi Toivuy ev Tois mvevpatiKois TocavTyy exovtes icotipiav, mibev péya ppoveire; Gre 6 Setva mrovouos, Kai 6 Seiva ioxvpds ;—Id. in Eph. iv. 4.[Opp. Tom. m1. p. 818.]
Cf. in Joh. Hom. xv. Tom. 1. p. 615. [Ei yap kat py ovyyeris pnde iros €otiv, ddX’ avOpards éote tijs aitns cor petéxov hiceas, Tov avrov €xov Oeamdrny, duddovdo0s Kal dpdoKnvos.... . Ei 6€ kal Ths wiaTews peTexXEL THS aiths, (Sov aor Kal pedos yéyove. |
Tovavtn yap 7 Tod Uvevparos xdpis’ 6poripous trotet rods épdppo- vas.—Greg. Naz (Orat. xxx1v. Opp. Tom. 1 p. 622 A.]
42
52 The Duty and Reward of
were they all originally equal in condition, all wealthy and happy, all constituted in a most pros- perous and plentiful estate ; all things at first were promiscuously exposed to the use and enjoyment of all, every one from the common stock assuming as his own what he needed. Inequality and private interest in things (together with sicknesses and pains, together with all other infelicities and incon- veniences) were the by-blows of our fall’ : sin intro- duced these degrees and distances ; it devised the names of rich and poor ; it begot these ingrossings and inclosures of things ; 1t forged those two small pestilent words, Mewm and Twwm,which have engen- dered so much strife among men, and created so much mischief in the world: these preternatural distinctions were, I say, brooded by our fault, and are in great part fostered and maintained thereby ; for were we generally so good, so just, so charitable as we should be, they could hardly subsist, espe- cially in that measure they do™. God indeed (for
1 Tevia kat mAovros, edevbepia te, Hv haper, kat Sovdcla, Kat Ta TolaiTa Tdy dvopdtwy, VaTepov erevanOoy TH yever Tav avOperrar, @orep appwornpara Kowd Twa TH Kakia ovveromécovTa, Kakelvns dvra erwvonjata.—Greg. Naz. [Orat. xiv. Opp. Tom. 1. p. 275B.]
™ To yap €pov, kal Td oor, TodTo TO Wuxpoy pia, Kal pupiovs mroemous eis THY oikovperny eicayayov, &c.—Chrys. Orat. Liv. [Opp. Tom. vy. p. 364.] et in Act. ii. 47. [Tom. tv. p. 648.]
Natura omnia omnibus in commune profudit. Sic enim Deus generari jussit omnia, ut pastus omnibus communis esset, et terra foret omnium quedam communis possessio. Natura igitur jus commune generavit, usurpatio jus fecit privatum.—Amb. Offic. 1. 28. [Opp. Tom. 1. col. 35 E.]
Kai yap ei pera axpiBelas rovro edudarttero, ov SodAos, ovK eAEv- Oepos iv, ovK apxawr, ovk apxdpevos, ov mAovaLOS, Ov TEVNS, OU juLKpdS, Ov péyas, ov diaBodos av eyvdabn roré.—Chrys. in 1 Cor. Orat. xxx. (Opp. Tom. m1. p. 455.)
“Qorep av et ts ev Ocarp@ bedv katadraBar, cira e£eipyot Tovs éereio= tovtas, tov €avrod kpivwy Td Kowas Tact KaTa THY Xphow mpoKeipevoy"
Bounty to the Poor. 53
promoting some good ends, and for prevention of SERM. some mischiefs, apt to spring from our ill-nature in __™ this our lapsed state ; particularly to prevent the strife and disorder which scrambling would cause among men, presuming on equal right and parity of force) doth suffer them in some manner to con- tinue, and enjoins us a contented submission to them: but we mistake, if we think that natural equality and community are in effect quite taken away ; or that all the world is so cantonized among some few, that the rest have no share therein. No; every man hath still a competent patrimony due to him, and a sufficient provision made for his tolera- ble subsistence. God hath brought no man hither to be necessarily starved, or pinched with extreme want; but hath assigned to every one a child’s portion, in some fair way to be obtained by hin, either by legal right, or by humble request, which according to conscience ought to have effect". No man therefore is allowed to detain, or to destroy superfluously what another man apparently wants: but is obliged to impart it to him ; so that rich men are indeed but the treasurers, the stewards, the caterers of God for the rest of men, having a strict charge to Dispense unto every one his meat in due Matt. season, and no just privilege to withhold it from [une Si. any: the honour of distribution is conferred on ** them, as a reward of their fidelity and care; the right of enjoyment is reserved to the poor, as a Totovroi elot Kal of TAOVOLOL, Ta yap KoWa mpoKaTacxoVTes, LSta TroLOdY- rat dua tHv mpdodnyv.—Basil. M. [Hom. in Luc. xii. 18. Opp. Tom. Il. p. 49 E.]
* Incassum se innocentes putant, qui commune Dei munus
sibi privatum vindicant.—Greg. M. [Pastor. Cure, Pars m1. Admon. 22. Opp. Tom. m1. col. 66 E.]
2 Cor. viii.
54 The Duty and Reward of
provision for their necessity. Thus hath God wisely projected, that all his children should both effec- tually and quietly be provided for, and that none of them should be oppressed with penury ; so that, as St Paul hath it, One man’s abundance shall supply another man’s want, that there may be an equality: for since no man can enjoy more than he needs, and every man should have so much as he needs, there can be really no great inequality among men ; the distinction will scarce remain otherwhere than in fancy. What the philosopher said of him- self, What I have ts so mine, that it 1s every man’s®, is according to the practice of each man, who is truly and in due measure charitable ; whereby that. seemingly enormous discrimination among men is well moderated”, and the equity of divine Provi- dence is vindicated. But he that ravenously grasps for more than he can well use, and gripes it fast into his clutches, so that the needy in their distress cannot come by it, doth pervert that equity which God hath established in things, defeats his good intention, (so far as he can,) and brings a scandal on his providence: and so doing is highly both
injurious and impious.
~ 3 It was also (which we should consider) even one main end of this difference among us, permitted and ordered by God’s providence, that as some men’s industry and patience might be exercised by their poverty, so other men by their wealth should have ability of practising justice and charity ; that
° Ego sic omnia habeo, ut omnium sint.—-Demetrius apud Sen. de Ben. vit. 10. [5.]
P 'O dyarév tov wAnoloy ds Eavrov, ovdév mepisodrepoy KEKTNTAL tov mAngiov.—Basil. M. (Hom. in Div. Opp. Tom. 1. p. 52 B.]
Bounty to the Poor. 5d
so both rich and poor might thence become capable of recompences, suitable to the worth of such vir-
tuous performances. Why art thou rich, saith”
St Basil, and he poor? Surely for this; that thou mayest attain the reward of benignity, and faithful dispensation; and that he may be honoured with the great prize of patience’. God in making thee rich, would have thee to be a double benefactor, not only to thy poor neighbour, but also to thyself, whilst thou bestowest relief on him, purchasing
SERM. Ie
a reward to thyself. God also by this order of”)
things designs, that a charitable intercourse should be maintained among men, mutually pleasant and
beneficial ; the rich kindly obliging the poor, and
the poor gratefully serving the rich. Wherefore | by neglecting these duties we unadvisedly cross the
good purpose of God toward us, depriving ourselves of the chief advantages our wealth may afford.
4 We should also do well to consider, that a poor man, even as such, is not to be disregarded, and that poverty itself is no such contemptible thing as we may be prone to imagine. There are considerations, which may qualify poverty even to dispute the place with wealth, and to claim prece- dence to it. If the world vulgarly doth account and call the rich man happy, a better Author hath
pronounced the poor man such: Blessed are the Luke vi.
4 Acari od pév mrovreis, exeivos S€ méeverar; 7) ma if Lov
f ; 1) mavtes, wa Kal od
xpnorotntos Kal morijs oixovouias picOdy brod<én, Kaxeivos Tois peyd-
ots GOAots Tis bropovijs tyn67.—{Mom. in Luc. xii. 18. Opp. Tom. II. p. 50 A.]
T1\obrov xal reviay trois avOpdrois diévepev 6 Tdv 6av Snptovpyds
TE Kal MpiTams, ovk adiko Whd@ xXpnodpevos, GAN adoppyy opedetas
Fois TAovalots Tapexov, TOV TEVAT@Y THY évSecav.—Theodor. Ep. xxi.
[Opp. Tom. ur. p. 917 B.]
20.
56 The Duty and Reward of
SERM. oor, doth march in the van of the beatitudes ; and a reason goeth along therewith, which asserteth its right to the place, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven; for that they are not only in an equal capacity as men, but in a nearer disposition as poor, to the acquisition of that blissful state; for that poverty (the mistress of sobriety and honest indus- try, the mother of humility and patience, the nurse of all virtue) renders men more willing to go, and more expedite in the way toward heaven: by it also we conform to the Son of God himself, the heir of eternal majesty, the Saviour of the world,
2 Cor. viii Who for our sake became poor, (At npas értwxevce, 9. : for our sake became a beggar,) that we through his poverty (or beggary) might become rich: he wil- lingly chose, he especially dignified and sanctified that depth of poverty, which we so proudly slight and loathe. The greatest princes and potentates in the world, the most wealthy and haughty of us all, but for one poor beggar had been irrecoverably miserable ; to poverty it is, that every one of us doth owe all the possibility there is, all the hopes we can have of our salvation; and shall we then ingratefully requite it with scorn, or with pitiless neglect’? Shall we presume, in the person of any poor man, to abhor or contemn the very poor, but most holy and most happy Jxsus, our Lord and Redeemer? No; if we will do poverty right, we must rather for his dear sake and memory defer an especial respect and veneration thereto. 5 Thus a due reflection on the poor man him- self, his nature and state, will induce us to succour.
" Dedignatur aliquis paupertatem, cujus tam clare imagines sunt ?—Sen. Consol ad Hely. [x1. 5.]
Bounty to the Poor. 57
But let us also consider him as related unto our- selves : every such person is our near kinsman, is our brother, is by indissoluble bands of cognation in blood, and agreement in nature, knit and united to us. We are all but several streams issuing from one source, several twigs sprouting from one stock ;
SERM. tI
One blood, derived through several channels ; one Acts xvii. - as 26. substance, by miraculous efficacy of the divine bene-
diction multiplied or dilated unto several times and places. We are all fashioned according to the same original idea, resembling God our common Father; we are all endowed with the same faculties, inclina- tions, and affections ; we all conspire in the same essential ingredients of our constitution, and in the more notable adjuncts thereof; it is only some in- considerable accidents (such as age, place, figure, stature, colour, garb) which diversify and distin- guish us; in which, according to successions of time and chance, we commonly no less differ from ourselves, than we do at present from them: so that in effect and reasonable esteem, every man is not only our brother, but (as Aristotle® saith of a friend) “Addos avtos, Another one’s self; is not only our most lively image, but in a manner our very substance ; another ourself under a small variation of present circumstances: the most of distinction between us and our poor neighbour consists in exte- rior show, in moveable attire, in casual appendages to the nature of man ; so that really when we use him well, we are kind to ourselves ; when we yield him courteous regard, we bear respect to our own
nature ; when we feed and comfort him, we do sus- .
: B (Eth, rm. 42.6. |
SERM.
Tsai. lviii.
Prov. xi.
-
I7-
Rom. xii.
58 The Duty and Reward of
tain and cherish a member of our own body*. But when we are cruel or harsh to him, we abuse our- selves ; when we scorn him, we lay disparagement and disgrace on mankind itself ; when we withhold succour or sustenance from him, we do, as the pro- phet speaketh, Hide ourselves from our own flesh ; we starve a part of our own body, and wither a branch of our stock; immoderate selfishness so blindeth us, that we oversee and forget ourselves : it is in this, as it is in other good senses, true what the Wise Man saith, The merciful man doeth good to his own soul; but he that is cruel troubleth his own flesh.
6 Further, as the poor man is so nearly allied to us by society of common nature, so is he more strictly joined to us by the bands of spiritual con- sanguinity. All Christians (high and low, rich and poor) are children of the same heavenly Fa- ther, spring from the same incorruptible seed, are regenerated to the same lively hope, are coheirs of the same heavenly inheritance ; are all members of one body", (Members, saith St Paul, one of an- other,) and animated by one holy Spirit: which relation, as it is the most noble and most close that can be, so it should breed the greatest endear- ments, and should express itself in correspondent
* Nemo est in genere humano, cui non dilectio, etsi non pro mutua caritate, pro ipsa tamen communis nature societate debe- atur.—Aug. [Ep. cxxx. (ad Probam.) Opp. Tom. m. col. 387 ¢.]
Oikciov amas avOpwros avOpare kai piiov.—Arist. [Eth. vu. i. 3.]
"Ev ddorpios mabect Oeparevréov, adeApol, rd cvyyeves, Kat 6ud- dovAkov.— Greg. Naz. [Orat. x1v. Opp. Tom. 1. p. 262 B.]
Nihil est enim unum uni tam simile, tam par, quam omnes inter nosmetipsos sumus.—Cic. de Leg. [1. 10. 29.]
" Gal. iii. 28. Tavres yap ipets eis eore ev Xpior@ Inoov. Are all one.—Cf. Chrys. in Joh. Hom. xv. [Opp. Tom. 1. p. 615.] ‘
Bounty to the Poor. 59
effects ; it should render us full of affection and SERM. sympathy one toward another ; it should make us __* to tender the needs, and feel the sufferings of any Christian as our own; it should dispose us freely
to communicate whatever we have, how precious soever, to any of our brethren*; this holy friend-
ship should establish a charitable equality and com- munity among us, both in point of honour and of estate: for since all things considerable are com-
mon unto us, since we are all purchased and puri-
fied by the same precious blood, since we all par-
take of the same precious faith, of the same high calling, of the same honourable privileges, of the
same glorious promises and hopes; since we all
have the same Lord and Saviour; why should these secular trifles be so private and particular among us? Why should not so huge a parity in
those only valuable things not wholly (I say, not
in worldly state or outward appearance, such as
the preservation of order in secular affairs requir-
eth, but) in our opinion and affection extinguish
that sheht distinction of rich and poor, in concern- ments temporal? How can we slight so noble, so
great a personage as a Christian, for wanting a
little dross? How can we deem ourselves much
his superior, upon so petty an advantage, for hay-
ing that, which is not worth speaking or thinking
of, in comparison to what he enjoyeth ? Our Lord himself is not ashamed to call the least among us Heb. ii-rr. his brother and his friend: and shall we then dis- sain me dain to yield to such an one the regard and treat- Jo" *”
x Dito yap ovdey itov, otrwes Pidot
’Opbas Tmepvxac’, adda Kowa xpypata,—
Eurip. Androm. [376]
60 The Duty and Reward of
SERM. ment suitable to such a quality? Shall we not * honour any brother of our Lord? Shall we not be civil and kind to any friend of his? If we do not, how can we pretend to bear any true respect or affection unto himself? It is his express precept, Matt. xx. that the greatest among us should, in imitation of his most humble and charitable self, be ready to Rom. xii. gerve the meanest ; and that we should Jn honour Phil. 3. prefer one another, and In lowliness of mind esteem others better than ourselves, are apostolical rules, extending indifferently to rich and poor, which are plainly violated by disregarding the poor. Yea, this relation should, according to St John’s doc- trine, dispose us not only freely to impart these temporal goods, but even, if occasion be, willingly 1 John iii, to expose our very lives for our brethren : Hereby, saith he, we perceive the love of God, because he laid down his life for us; and we ought to lay down our lives for our brethren. How greatly then are they deficient from their duty, how little in truth are they Christians, who are unwilling to part with the very superfluities and excrements of their fortune for the relief of a poor Christian ! Thus considering our brother, may breed in us charitable dispositions toward him, and induce us
to the practice of these duties. Se Moreover, if we reflect upon ourselves, and course. consider either our nature, or our state here, we cannot but observe many strong engagements to
the same practice.
t The very constitution, frame, and temper of our nature directeth and inclineth us thereto ; whence, by observing those duties, we observe our own nature, we improve it, we advance it to the
Bounty to the Poor. 61
best perfection it is capable of; by neglecting them, we thwart, we impair, we debase the same —Hee nostri pars optima sensus’; the best of our natural inclinations (those sacred relics of God’s image originally stamped on our minds) do sensi- bly prompt, and vehemently urge us to mercy and pity: the very same bowels, which in our own want do by a lively sense of pain inform us thereof, and instigate us to provide for its relief, do also grievously resent the distresses of another, admo- nishing us thereby, and provoking us to yield him
succour%. Such is the natural sympathy between )
men, (discernible in all, but appearing most vigor- ous in the best natures,) that we cannot see, can- not hear of, yea, can hardly imagine the calamities of other men, without being somewhat disturbed and afflicted ourselves. As also nature, to the acts requisite toward preservation of our life, hath an- nexed a sensible pleasure, forcibly enticing us to the performance of them: so hath she made the com- munication of benefits to others to be accompanied with a very delicious relish upon the mind of him that practises it ; nothing indeed carrying with it a more pure and savoury delight than beneficence. A man may be virtuously voluptuous, and a lauda- ble epicure by doing "much good ; for to receive good, even in the judgment of Epicurus himself, (the great patron of pleasure,) is nowise so plea-
Y Juv. Sat. xv. [133.] x Mutuus ut nos Affectus petere auxilium et preestare juberet.— [Id. ibid. 149.] @idrraxov kal oupmabes tO Tay avOpdrev yévos.—Arch. ad Mon. 852.
SERM. Al
62 The Duty and Reward of
SERM.\ sant as to do it*: God and nature therefore within Tus do solicit the poor man’s case: even our own ease and satisfaction demand from us compassion and kindness towards him ; by exercising them we hearken to nature’s wise disciplines, and comply with her kindly instincts : we cherish good humour, and sweeten our complexion; so ennobling our minds, we become not only more like to God, but more perfectly men: by the contrary practice we rebel against the laws, and pervert the due course of our nature; we do weaken, corrupt, and stifle that which is best in us; we harden and stupify our souls; so monstrously degenerating from the perfection of our kind, and becoming rather like savage beasts than sociable men; yea, somewhat worse perhaps than many beasts ; for commonly brutes will combine to the succour of one another, they will defend and help those of the same kind. 2 Andif the sensitive part within us doth sug- gest so much, the rational dictates more unto us: that heavenly faculty, having capacities so wide, and so mighty energies, was surely not created to serve mean or narrow designs; it was not given us to scrape eternally im earth, or to amass heaps of clay for private enjoyment; for the service of one puisne creature, for the sustenance and satis- faction of a single carcass: it is much below an intelligent person to weary himself with servile toils, and distract his mind with ignoble cares, for concernments so low and scanty: but to regard and pursue the common good of men ; to dispense,
® ’Emikoupos Tov €d maaxew, TO €b Toteiv, ov pdvoy KadALoy adda kat 7OLov etvac noi.—Plut. de Philos. cony. cum Prine. [Opp. Tom. mm. p. 1393. Ed. Steph.]
Bounty to the Poor. 63
advise, and aid, where need requires ; to diffuse its SERM. virtue all about in beneficial effects; these are operations worthy of reason, these are employ- ments congruous to the native excellency of that divine power implanted in us; such performances declare indeed what a man is, whence he sprang, and whither he tends.
3 Further, examining ourselves, we may also observe, that we are in reality, what our poor neighbour appears to be, in many respects no less indigent and impotent than he: we no less, yea far more, for our subsistence depend upon the arbi- trary power of another, than he seemeth to rely upon ours. We as defectible creatures do continu- ally want support ; we as grievous sinners do always need mercy; every moment we are contracting huge debts, far beyond our ability to discharge ; debts of gratitude for benefits received, debts of cult for offences committed ; we therefore perpetu- ally stand obliged to be craving for mercy and relief at the gates of heaven. We all, from prince to peasant, live merely upon alms, and are most really in condition beggars: To pray always, is a Luke xviii. duty incumbent on us mS the condition of our “ nature, as well as by the command of God. Such a likeness in state should therefore dispose us to succour our fellows, and, AaveiCew Oem tov édeov, €déov xpnCovras, To lend mercy to God, who need mercy from him, as the good father? speaketh. We should, as the apostle advises and argues, Remem- Heb. xiii. ber them that are in bonds, as bound with them ; and them which suffer adversity, as being ourselves also in the body ; as beg companions in necessity,
» Greg. Naz. [Orat. xu. Opp. Tom. I. p. 818 p.]
SERM.
Matt. xviii. 32, 33-
64 The Duty and Reward of
or subject to the like distress. If we daily receive mercy and relief, yet, unmindful of our obligation to God, refuse them to others, shall we not deserve to hear that dreadful exprobration, O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desiredst me: shouldest not thou also have had com- passion on thy fellow-servant, even as I had pity on thee?
4 The great incertainty and instability of our condition doth also require our consideration. We, that now flourish in a fair and full estate’, may soon be in the case of that poor creature, who now sues for our relief; we, that this day enjoy the wealth of Job, may the morrow need his patience : there are Sabeans, which may come, and drive away our cattle; there are tempests which may arise, and smite down our houses ; there is a fire of God, which may fall from heaven, and consume our substance ; a messenger of all these mischiefs may, for all we know, be presently at our doors ; it happened so to a better man than we, as unex- pectedly, and with as small ground to fear it, as it can arrive to us: all our weal is surrounded with dangers, and exposed to casualties innumerable : violence may snatch it from us, treachery may cheat us of it; mischance may seize thereon, a secret moth may devour it ; the wisdom of Provi- dence for our trial, or its justice for our punish- ment, may bereave us thereof; its own light and fluid nature (if no other accountable causes were apparent) might easily serve to waft it from us;
c gq > + cal > , Opos & eveore roiow eb oKorovpevots Tap3eiv tov eb mpaooorta, pr) opadf rore,—
Soph. Trachin, [296.]
Bounty to the Poor. 65
for Riches, saith the Wise Man, make themselves SERM. wings, (they, it seems, do need no help for that,) and fly away like as an eagle toward heaven; that Pv *™ is, of their own accord they do so swiftly convey themselves away, out of our sight, and beyond our reach ; they are but wind: What profit, says the Fecles. v. Preacher, hath he that laboureth for the wind 2” For wind ; that is, for a thing which can nowise be fixed or settled in one corner ; which, therefore, it is a vanity to conceive that we can surely appro- priate, or long retain. How then can we think to stand firm upon a place so slippery ? how can we build any confidence on a bottom so loose and brittle ? how can we suffer our minds to be swelled up like bubbles with vain conceit, by the breath of such things, more fleeting and vertiginous than any air ? against the precepts of the wisest and best men: If riches increase, saith the Psalmist, set not Poke your heart on them: Wilt thou set thine eyes es feat that which ts not? saith the Wise Man: (that is, wilt thou regard that which is so transitory and evanid, that it hardly may be deemed real ; which we can scarce look on, before it is gone?) And, Charge them, saith St Paul, that are rich i this Tim. vi. world, that they be not high-minded, nor trust in 7 uncertain riches: (Et awdovtov adydoTnt, In the obscurity, or inevidence of riches; things, which we can never plainly discern how long we shall keep them, how much we can enjoy them :) what should make us unwilling, with certain advantages to ourselves, freely to let that go, which presently without our leave may forsake us? How can we reasonably judge our case much different from that of the poorest body, whenas in a trice we may per-
B. 8. VOL. I. 5
SERM. f3
1 Sam. ii.
Job xii. 21. Ps, cvii. “at ed cxiil. 7, 8.
Eccles. xi. I,2.
66 The Duty and Reward of
haps change places and persons ; when, the scene turning, he may be advanced unto our wealth, we may be depressed into his want*? Since every age yieldeth instances of some Creesus, some Poly- crates, some Pompey, some Job, some Nebucho- donosor, who within a small compass of time doth appear to all men the object both of admiration and pity, is to the less wise the mark both of envy and scorn®; seeing every day presenteth unex- pected vicissitudes, the sea of human affairs conti- nually ebbing and flowing, now rolling on this, now on the other shore, its restless waves of profit and credit ; since especially there is a God, who arbitrarily disposeth things, and with a turn of his hand changeth the state of men ; who, as the scrip- ture saith, Maketh rich and poor, bringeth low and lifteth wp; Poureth contempt upon princes; Raiseth the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the beggar from the dunghull, to set them among princes, and to make them imherit the throne of glory: seemg, I say, apparently, such is the condition of things here, that we may soon need his pity and help, who now requesteth ours, why should we not be very ready to afford them to him? Why should we not gladly embrace our opportunity, and use our turn well ; becoming aforehand with others, and preventing their reciprocal contempt or neglect of us hereafter: Cast thy bread upon the waters ; for thou shalt find it after many days. Give a portion to seven, and
4 Kat yap éoxdrns dvolas dv etn, dv Kal dkovres e€laracba péd- Aopev Er€épots, TovT@y py peradodvat Exdytas Tots Seouéevors.—Chrys, Orat. ty. [Opp. Tom. v. p. 374.]
® Sejanus—quo die illum Senatus deduxerat, populus in frusta divisit.—Sen. de. Tranq. [cap. xi. 9.]
Bounty to the Poor. 67
also unto eight ; for thou knowest not what evil shall = be upon the earth: that is, considering the incon- stancy and uncertainty of affairs Lae and what adversity may befall thee, be liberal upon all occa- sions, and thou shalt (even a good while after) find returns of thy liberality upon thee: so the Wise Man advises, and so wisdom certainly dictates that we should do.
5 And equity doth exact no less: for were any of us in the needy man’s plight, (as easily we may be reduced thereto,) we should believe our case deserved commiseration ; we should importu- nately demand relief; we should be grievously displeased at a repulse ; we should apprehend our- selves very hardly dealt with, and sadly we should complain of inhumanity and cruelty, if succour were refused to us. In all equity therefore we should be apt to minister the same to others; for nothing can be more unreasonable or unjust, than to require or expect that from another, which in a like case we are unwilling to render unto him!: it is a plain deviation from that fundamental rule, which is the base of all justice, and virtually the sum, as our Saviour telleth us, of whatever is pre- scribed us: All things whatsoever ye would that Matt. vii. men should do to you, do ye even so to them; for this” as the Law and the Prophets. I add, that upon these considerations, by unmerciful dealing, we put ourselves into a very bad and ticklish condition, wholly depending upon the constancy of that which is most inconstant ; so that if our fortune do fail, we can neither reasonably hope for, nor justly pre-
f Beneficium dare qui nescit, injuste petit.— [Publ. Syrus. (Poet. Scen. Latin Vol. vi. p. 288. Ed. Bothe.)] D—2
SERM. Us
Ecelus. iii.
a0.
Proy. XXVll. 24.
James i. 10, II.
Luke xii. 19, 20.
1 Tim. vi.
-
i . Eccles. v.
15. Job i. 21.
68 The Duty and Reward of
tend to, any relief or comfort from others: He that doeth good turns is mindful of that which may come hereafter; and when he falleth, he shall find a stay.
6 We should also remember concerning our- selves, that we are mortal and frail. Were we im- mortal, or could we probably retain our possessions for ever in our hands; yea, could we foresee some definite space of time, considerably long, in which we might assuredly enjoy our stores, 1t might seem somewhat excusable to scrape hard, and to hold fast ; to do so might look lke rational providence : but since Liches are not for ever, nor doth the crown endure to all generations, as the Wise Man speaketh ; since they must infallibly be soon left, — and there is no certainty of keeping them for any time, it is very unaccountable why we should so oreedily seek them, and hug them so fondly. The rich man, saith St James, as the flower of the grass, shall pass away; itis his special doom to fade away suddenly ; it 1s obvious why in many respects he is somewhat more than others obnoxious to the fatal stroke, and upon special accounts of justice he may be further more exposed thereto: considering the case of the rich fool in the Gospel, we may easily discern them: we should reckon, that it may happen to us as it did there to him ; that after we have reared great barns, and Stored wp much goods for many years, our soul this very night may be required of us: however, if it be uncertain when, it is most certain, that after a very short time our thread will be spun out; then shall we be rifled, and quite stript of all; becoming stark-naked, as when we came into the world: we shall not carry with us one grain of our glistering metals, or one
Bounty to the Poor. 69
rag of our gaudy stuff; our stately houses, our fine SERM. gardens, and our spacious walks, must all be ex- changed for a close hole under ground ; we must for ever bid farewell to our pomps and magnifi- iets ae cences, to our feasts and jollities, to our sports and pastimes ; not one of all our numerous and splendid retinue, no companion of our pleasure, no admirer
of our fortune, no flatterer of our vices, can wait
upon us; desolate and unattended we must go
down to the chambers of darkness: then shall we
find that to die rich, as men are wont improperly
to speak, is really to die most poor; that to have carefully kept our money, is to have lost it utterly ;
that by leaving much, we do indeed leave worse
than nothing: to have been wealthy, if we have
been illiberal and unmerciful, will be no advantage
or satisfaction to us after we are gone hence ; yea,
it will be the cause of huge damage and bitter
regret unto us. All our treasures will not procure
us any favour, or purchase one advocate for us in
that impartial world ; yea, it shall be they, which
will there prosecute us with clamorous accusations,
will bear sore testimony against us, (The rust of James v.3. them, saith St James, shall be a witness against us, ee ee signifying our unjust or uncharitable detention of Yj: 7+ them,) will obtain a most heavy sentence upon us; foe they will render our audit more difficult, ad James v. 5. inflame our reckoning; they will aggravate the guilt
of our sins with imputations of unfaithfulness and ingratitude ; so with their load they will press us 1 Tim. vi. deeper into perdition: to omit, that having so ill” managed them, we shall leave them behind us as
marks of obloquy, and monuments of infamy upon
our memories ; for ordinarily of such a rich person
SERM.
Job xxvii. 19, 23.
Luke xvi. 9.
V. Head of dis- course,
70 The Duty and Reward of
it is true, that Job says of him, Men shall clap their hands at him, and shall hiss him out of his place; like one who departs from off this stage, after having very ill acted his part. Is it not, therefore, infinitely better to prevent this bemg necessarily and unprofitably deprived of our goods, by seasonably disposing them so as may conduce to our benefit, and our comfort, and our honour§; being very indifferent and unconcerned in our affec- tion toward them ; modest and humble in our con- ceits about them ; moderate and sober in our en- joyments of them ; contented upon any reasonable occasion to lose or leave them ; and especially most ready to dispense them in that best way, which God hath prescribed, according to the exigencies of humanity and charity? By thus ordering our riches, we shall render them benefits and blessings to us; we shall by them procure sure friendship and favour, great worship and respect in the other world ; having so lived, (in the exercise of bounty and mercy,) we shall truly die rich, and in effect carry all our goods along with us, or rather we have thereby sent them before us; having, like wise merchants, transmitted and drawn them by a most safe conveyance into our country and home ; where infallibly we shall find them, and with ever- lasting content enjoy them. So considering our- selves, and our state, will dispose us to the practice of these duties.
Furthermore, if we contemplate our wealth
& Tis yap €oxdtns avoias éotiv ddeivai te Tév HpeTépwv avaro- peivae evradda, judy puxpdy Vorepoy peAdytav evreddev drrodnpeiv. Kai yap omep arokepOn Cnuia yivera. Lldvra roivuy eéxet mpomep-
mécOw, &vOa Kai jpeis Siaravrds diarpiBew péeAdoper ourdy.—Chrys.
Or. ty. Opp. Tom. v. [p. 365.]
Bounty to the Poor. 71
itself, we may therein descry great motives to = bounty.
t Thus to employ our riches is really the best use they are capable of; not only the most inno- cent, most worthy, most plausible, but the most safe, most pleasant, most advantageous, and conse- quently in all respects most prudent way of dis- posing them. To keep them close without using or enjoying them at all, is a most sottish extrava- gance, or a strange kind of madness ; a man thence affecting to be rich quite impoverisheth himself, dispossesseth himself of all, and alienateth from himself his estate’: his gold is no more his than when it was in the Indies, or lay hid in the mines ; his corn is no more his than if it stood growing in Arabia or China; he is no more owner of his lands than he is master of Jerusalem, or Grand Cairo: for what difference is there, whether dis- tance of place, or baseness of mind, sever things from him? whether his own heart, or another man’s hand, detain them from his use? whether he hath them not at all, or hath them to no pur- pose ? whether one is a beggar out of necessity or by choice ? is pressed to want or a volunteer there- to? Such an one may fancy himself rich, and others as wise as himself may repute him so: but so distracted persons to themselves, and to one another, do seem great princes, and style them- selves such ; with as much reason almost he might pretend to be wise, or to be good. Riches are,
1 SkopmiCduevos 6 mAodtos, Kal’ dv 6 Kupwos troriberar rpdror, méuke Trapapeve” ovvexdpuevos Sé adddorpiodcba.—Basil. M. [Hom. in Div. Opp. Tom. m1. p. 53 A.]
Tam deest avaro, quod habet, quam quod non habet.— [Publ. Syrus. (Poet. Scen. Lat. Vol. v1. p. 257. Ed. Bothe.)]
72 The Duty and Reward of
BERM. Xpyuatra, things, whose nature consists in useful- ___ness'; abstract that, they become nothing, things of no consideration or value ; he that hath them is no more concerned in them than he that hath them not: it is the art and skill to use affluence of things wisely and nobly, which makes it wealth, and constitutes him rich that hath it; otherwise the chests may be crammed, and the barns stuffed full, while the man is miserably poor and beg- garly*: it is in this sense true, which the Wise Prov. xis Man says, There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing. But the very having riches (will such a man say) is matter of reputation; men do esteem and honour him that hath them. True, if he knows how, and hath the mind to use them - well : otherwise all the credit they yield consists in making their master ridiculous to wise men, and infamous among all men. but, putting case that any should be so foolish as to respect us merely for seeming rich, why should we accommodate our practice to their vain opinion, or be base ourselves, because others are not wise? But, however, (may he say again,) it 1s a pleasant thing to see them ; a heap of gold is the most lovely spectacle that one can behold ; it does a man’s heart good to view an abundance of good things about him. For this plea, indeed, he hath a good author : this, it should seem, was all the benefit the Wise Man observed Eccles.v. jn them accruing to such persons: What good, II, saith he, as there to the owners thereof, saving the
1 Kat yap xpymara dia todro Néyerat, ovx wa KaropvEoper, aX’ iva els Séov avrois xpnoopeba.—Chrys. in Matt. Hom. xxrx. [Opp. Tom. 1. p. 316.)
: Desunt inopiz multa, avaritie omnia.—
[Publ. Syrus. apud] Sen. Epist. evr. [9.]
Bounty to the Poor. 73
beholding of them with their eyes? But if this be oa all they are good for, it is, one would think, a very slim benefit they afford, little able to balance the pain and care requisite to the acquist and custody of them ; a benefit indeed not proper to the pos- sessor ; for any one may look on them as well as he, or on the like ; any one at pleasure may enjoy better sights; all the riches and ornaments of nature, the glorious splendours of heaven, and the sweet beauties of the field, are exposed to common view ; the choicest magnificences and gallantries of the world do studiously present themselves to every man’s eye; these in part every man truly may appropriate to himself; and by imagination any man can as well take all that he sees for his own, as the tenacious miser doth fancy his dear pelf t be his. = But mine heir (perhaps he will further say) / will thank me, will praise me, will bless me for my great care and providence. If he doth, what is that to thee? Nothing of that will concern thee, or can reach thee ; thou shalt not hear what he says, or feel any good from what he does: and most probably thou art mistaken in thy opinion concerning him ; as thou Knowest not who he shall Ps. xxxix. be, that shall gather all thou heapest wp, or Shall kectes. it. rule over all thy labour, (whether he shall be a wise ** man or a fool, a kinsman or a stranger, a friend or a foe,) so thou canst as little guess what he will think or say : if he hath wit, he may sweetly laugh at thee for thy fond wisdom ; if he hath none, his commendations will little adorn thy memory ; he will to thy disgrace spend what thou leavest, as. vainly as thou didst get or keep it. But (this to
SERM. I:
Prov. x. nop
74 The Duty and Reward of
be sure he will in the end say for himself) money is a good reserve against necessary occasions, or bad times that may come ; against a time of old age, of sickness, of adversity; it is the surest friend a man can have in such cases, which, when all fails, will be ready to help him: The rich man's wealth is his strong city: the Wise Man, he thinks, never spake more wisely ; he therefore will not dismantle this fortress, but will keep it well stored, letting therefore his wealth lie dead and useless by him. But (to let pass now the profane infidelity of this plea, excluding all hope in God, and substituting our providence in the room of his) what a folly is it thus to anticipate evil, and to create to ourselves a present adversity from a sus- picion of one future; to pinch ourselves now, lest we should suffer hereafter; to pine to-day, because we can imagine it possible that we may starve to-morrow; to forego certain occasions of enjoying our goods, for that perchance the like occasions may happen one day, we know not when; not to use things now, when reason bids us, be- cause they may be useful at another time! Not considering also, that many intervenient accidents, more probably than a moderate and handsome use of our wealth, may crop the excrescences thereof.
2 But setting aside these absurd excuses of penuriousness, we may consider, that, secluding the good use of them in beneficence, riches are very impertinent, very cumbersome, very danger- ous, very mischievous things; either superfluous toys, or troublesome clogs, or treacherous snares, or rather all these in combination, productive of trouble, sorrow, and sin. ] A small pittance will
Bounty to the Poor. 75
and must suffice, to all reasonable purposes, to SERM. satisfy our necessities, to procure conveniences, to
yield innocent delight and ease: our nature doth
not require, nor can bear much: (Lake heed and Luke xii. beware of covetousness, saith our Lord ; for a man’s r'tim. vi. life consisteth not in the abundance of the things * which he possesseth ; that is, a man may live well without it :) all the rest, setting beneficence apart, |
can only serve vanity or vice, will make us really |
fools and slaves'. (They that will be rich, saith the t Tim. vi, apostle, fall into temptation and a snare, and into
many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition.) ‘They puff up our minds with vain and false conceits ; making us, as
if we were in a dream or phrensy, to take our-
selves for other persons, more great, more wise,
more good, more happy than we are; for con- stantly, as the Wise Man observed, Zhe rich man is Prov. wise in his own conceit; Great men are not always age wise. And Agur thus intimates in his prayer, * Remove far from me vanity and les ; give me nei- Prov. xxx. ther poverty nor riches. They render us insensible
and forgetful of God, of ourselves, of piety and virtue, of all that is good and worthy of us ; (Lest Prov. xxx. I be full, said that good man again, assigning a s reason why he deprecated being rich, and deny
thee, and say, Who is the Lord ?) they swallow up Matt. vi. our thoughts, our affections, our endeavours, our Eeclus. time and leisure, possessing our hearts with a jf‘ '. doting love unto them, (excluding other good 7% affections,) distracting our minds with anxious
. Corporis exigua desideria sunt; frigus submovere vult, ali- mentis famem ac sitim extinguere; quicquid extra concupiscitur, Vitiis, non usibus, laboratur.—Sen. Consol. ad Hely. [cap. rx. 9.]
SERM.
Luke x. 41. 2 Tim. ii.
4. James v. 5. Luke xvi.
19.
76 The Duty and Reward of
cares about them, (choking other good thoughts,) encumbering all our life with business about them, (inconsistent with due attention to our other more weighty and necessary concernments,) filling our heads with suspicions and fears, piercing our hearts with troubles and sorrows ; they immerse our souls in all the follies of pride, in all the filths of luxury, in all the mischiefs emergent from sloth and stu-
i. pidity ; they are The root of all evils unto us, and . the greatest obstructions of our true happiness,
rendering salvation almost impossible, and heaven in a manner inaccessible to us: so that to be rich (if severed from a sober mind, and a free heart) is a great disease, and the source of many grievous dis- tempers both of body and mind; from which we cannot well otherwise secure or rescue ourselves, than by liberally spending them in works of bounty and mercy ; so shall we ease ourselves of the bur- dens™, so shall we elude the temptations, so shall we abandon the vices, and so shall we escape all the sad mischiefs incident to them: thus to use wealth shall turn it into a convenience, and an ornament of our lives, into a considerable blessing, and a ground of much comfort to us. Excluding this use of wealth, or abstracting a capacity of doing good therewith, nothing is more pitiful and despicable than it; it is but like the load or the trappings of an ass: a wise man on that condition would not choose it, or endure to be pestered with it; but would serve it as those philosophers did, who flung it away, that it might not disturb their contemplations : ’tis the power it affords of benefit-
™ ‘Aropdptical te ths nds, va mAeqs Kovpdrepos.—Greg. Naz. [Orat. xxxv1. Opp. Tom. 1. p. 642 £.]
Bounty to the Poor. W@
ing men, which only can season and ingratiate it pe to the relish of such a person: otherwise it is evi- —— dently true, which the Wise Man affirms, Better is TOWN a little with the fear of the Lord, than great treasure, and trouble therewith.
3 Again; we may consider, that to dispense our wealth liberally is the best way to preserve it, and to continue masters thereof; what we give is not thrown away, but saved from danger": while we detain it at home (as it seems to us) it really is abroad, and at adventures; it is out at sea, sailing perilously in storms, near rocks and shelves, amongst pirates; nor can it ever be safe, till it is brought into this port, or ensured this way: when we have bestowed it on the poor, then we have lodged it in unquestionable safety; in a place where no rapine, no deceit, no mishap, no corruption can ever by any means come at it®. All our doors and bars, all our forces and guards, all the circumspection and vigi- lancy we can use, are no defence or security at all in comparison to this disposal thereof: the poor man’s stomach is a granary for our corn, which never can be exhausted; the poor man’s back is a wardrobe for our clothes, which never can be pillaged; the
"M7 OF vouice Thy eAenuoovyny avddopa civat, aAda Tpdcodor, pnde Samdvynv, adda Tpaypateiav. Meifw yap AapBaves, 7) Sidas. &e.— Chrys. Orat. xxx. Opp. Tom. v. p. 208.
° My rolwey ewdapeba xpnudtav, paddov dé hed@peba rdv ypn- pdrov. ‘O yap eWdpevos trav dvTwy, eis Tas TOY TeVnTwY xEipas, avTa evaroridera, eis Tov Aovdov Onoavpoy, Kai AnoTais Kal oikérats Kal ovxopavras Kakovpyots Kal mdaoats epddors avadkwrov.—lId. Orat. Ly. [Opp. Tom. v. p. 373.]
Multi sancti et sanctee omni modo caventes, ipsas velut matres deliciarum divitias dispergendo pauperibus abjecerunt, et tali modo in ceelestibus thesauris tutius condiderunt.—Aug. [Ep. oxxx. (ad Probam.) Opp. Tom. 1. col. 385 £. |}
Sea
Proy. XXXVI. 27.
Tsai. xxxii.
Ps. cxxvii.
I.
78 The Duty and Reward of
poor man’s pocket is a bank for our money, which never can disappoint or deceive us: all the rich traders in the world may decay and break; but the poor man can never fail, except God himself turn bankrupt; for what we give to the poor, we deliver and intrust in his hands, out of which no force can wring it, no craft can filch it; it is laid up in heaven, whither no thief can climb, where no moth or rust do abide. In despite of all the fortune, of all the might, of all the malice in the world, the liberal man will ever be rich: for God’s providence is his estate ; God’s wisdom and power are his defence ; God’s love and favour are his reward; God’s word is his assurance ; who hath said it, that He which giveth to the poor shall not lack: no vicissitude therefore of things can surprise him, or find him unfurnished ; no disaster can impoverish him ; no adversity can overwhelm him; he hath a certain reserve against all times and occasions: he that Deviseth liberal things, by liberal things shall he stand, saith the prophet. But, on the other hand, being niggardly is the likeliest course we can take to lose our wealth and estate; we thereby expose them to danger, and leave them defenceless ; we subject them to the envious eye, to the slanderous tongue, to the ravenous and insidious hand; we deprive them of divine protection, which if it be away, The watchman waketh but in vain: we pro- voke God irrecoverably to take it from us, as he did the talent from that unprofitable servant, who did not use it well. We do indeed thereby yield God just cause of war and enmity against us; which being, Omnia dat qui justa negat; we do forfeit all to divine justice, by denying that portion which belongs
Bounty to the Poor. 79
to him, and which he claims. Can we hope to live SERM. in quiet possession of any thing, if we refuse to —— pay our due tributes and taxes imposed upon us by our almighty Sovereign ; if we live in such rebel- lion against his authority, such violation of his right, such diffidence to his word? No: He that Frev-*. trusteth in his riches shall fall; but the righteous
shall flourish as a branch: such is the difference
between the covetous and the liberal, in point of
security and success concerning their estate.
Even according to the human and ordinary way of esteeming things, (abstracting from the special providence of God,) the liberal person hath, in con-— sequence of his bounty, more real security for his | wealth, than this world hath any other: he thereby gets an interest in the gratitude and affection of those whom he obligeth, together with the good- will and respect of all men, who are spectators of his virtuous and generous dealing: the hearts and memories of men are repositories to him of a trea- sure, which nothing can extort from him, or defraud him of. If any mischance should arrive, or any want come near him, all men would be ready to commiserate him, every man would hasten to his succour. As when a haughty, a greedy, or a grip- ple man do fall into calamity or disgrace, scarce any one regardeth or pitieth him?: fortune, de- serting such a person, carries all with it, few or none stick to him; his most zealous flatterers are commonly the first that forsake him; contempt and neglect are the only adherents to his condition; |
= ee
P Miraris, cum tu argento post omnia ponas, Si nemo preestet, quem non merearis, amorem ?— Hor. Sat. 1. i. [86.]
80 The Duty and Reward of
SERM. that of the Wise Man appears verified, He that __-_Indeth his eyes from the poor shall have many a eee 24, curse. So the courteous and bountiful person, when fortune seems to frown on him, hath a sure refuge in the good-will and esteem of men; all men, upon the accounts of honour and honesty, take themselves to be concerned in his case, and engaged to favour him; even those, who before were strangers, become then his friends, and in effect discover their affection to him; it, in the common judgment of people, appears an indignity and a disgrace to mankind, that such a man should
- want or suffer.
“4 Nay further, we may consider, that exer- cising bounty is the most advantageous method of — improving and increasing an estate; but that being tenacious and illiberal doth tend to the diminution and decay thereof. The way to obtain a great increase is, to sow much: he that sows little, how can he expect a good crop? It is as true in spiri-
poe tual husbandry, as in the other; that What a man
soweth, that he shall reap, both in kind and accord-
ing to proportion: so that great husbandman St
2Cor.ix. Paul assureth us, He that soweth sparingly shall 6, 10.
reap sparingly; but he that soweth bountifully shall
also reap bountifully: and Solomon means the
eevee. ae, when he saith, To him that soweth righteous-
: ness shall be a sure reward. The way to gain
abundantly is, you know well, to trade boldly; he
that will not adventure any thing considerable,
Prov. iii. how can he think of a large return? Honour the
*"° Lord with thy substance, so shall thy barns be filled
with plenty, and thy presses shall burst out with new
wine. "Tis so likewise in the evangelical negotia-
Bounty to the Poor. 81
tions; if we put out much upon score of conscience SERM. or charity, we shall be sure to profit much. Libe- +
rality is the most beneficial traffic that can be; it is
bringing our wares to the best market; it is letting
out our money into the best hands; we thereby
lend our money to God, who repays with vast
usury; an hundred to one is the rate he allows at
present, and above a hundred millions to one he
will render hereafter; so that if you will be mer-~
chants this way, you shall be sure to thrive, you
cannot fail to grow rich most easily and speedily:
The liberal soul shall be made fut, and he that Prov. xi.
watereth shall be watered himself: this is that”
which St Paul again argues upon, when, com-
mending the Philippians’ free kindness toward
him, he says, Not because I desire a gift, but I ee
desire fruit that may abound to your account. *
Bounty yields Kaprov wdcovaGovra, a fruit that
multiplies, and abundantly turns to good account;
it indeed procuring God’s benediction, the fountain
of all desirable plenty and prosperity; for The LoS
blessing of the Lord, it maketh rich, and he addeth ™
no sorrow with it. It is therefore the greatest want
of policy, the worst ill-husbandry and unthriftiness
that can be, to be sparing this way; he that useth
it cannot be thriving; he must spend upon the
main stock, and may be sure to get nothing con-
siderable. God ordinarily so proceeds, as to recom-
pense and retaliate men in the same kind, wherein
they endeavour to please him, or presume to offend
him; so that for them who freely offer him their
goods, he in regard thereto will prosper their deal-
ings, and bless their estates: (For this very thing Deut. xv.
the Lord thy God shall bless thee in all thy works, ™: B.S. VOL. I. 6
SERM. I
Ps. Lxxiii. ] - i?
Acts ii. 46.
82 The Duty and Reward of
and im all that thou puttest thine hand unto, says Moses:) but they who will not lay out any thing for him, he will not concern himself in their success otherwise than to cross it, or, which is worse, to curse it; for if he seem to favour them for a time with some prosperity in their affairs, their con- dition is much worse thereby, their account will be more grievous, and their fate more disastrous in the end.
5 Further, the contributing part of our goods to the poor will qualify us to enjoy the rest with satisfaction and comfort. The oblation of these first-fruits, as it will sanctify the whole lump of our estate, so it will sweeten it; having offered this. well-pleasine sacrifice of piety, having discharged this debt of justice, having paid this tribute of eratitude, our hearts being at rest, and our con- science well satisfied, we shall, like those good peo- ple in the Acts, Hat our meat with gladness and singleness of heart; to see the poor man by our means accommodated, eased, and refreshed, will give a delicious relish to all our enjoyments. But withholding his portion from the poor, as it will pollute and profane all our estate, so it will render the fruition thereof sour or unsavoury to us: for can we with any content taste our dainties, or view our plenties, while the poor man stands in sight
pining with hunger’? Can we without regret see our walls clothed with tapestry, our horses decked with golden trappings, our attendants strutting im
4 "Byyls 6 més, th vdo@ BonOnoov: eis rodrov amépevEai tt Tov Tepitrav., Ti cal ov kdpvets dmrentay, Kal ovTos Teway; kal ov Kpat- Tadar, kat otros Sepiav; Kai ov Kép@ Képov Bapivwr, Kal odTos Tepi- tperépevos voow ;—Greg. Naz. [Orat. xxxvi. Opp. Tom. 1. p. 643 A.]
Bounty to the Poor. 83
wanton gaiety, while our honest poor brother ap- SERM. pears half naked, and trembling with cold? Gag, \ a we carry on one finger enough to furnish ten poor people with necessaries, and have the heart within
us, without shame and displeasure, to see them want? No; the sense of our impiety and ingrati-
tude toward God, of our inhumanity and unwor- thiness toward our neighbour, will not fail (if ever
we considerately reflect on our behaviour) to sting
us with cruel remorse and selfcondemnation; the clamours of want and misery surrounding us will
pierce our ears, and wound our hearts; the frequent objects of pity and mercy, do what we can to ban-
ish them from our prospect or regard, will so assail,
and so pursue us, as to disturb the freedom of our enjoyments, to quash the briskness of our mirth,
to allay the sweetness of our pleasure; yea, rather,
if stupidity and obduration have not seized on us,
to imbitter all unto us; we shall feel that true,
which Zophar speaks of the cruel and covetous oppressor, Surely he shall not feel quietness in his Sob xx. belly—he shall not rejoice in his substance—in the ake Sulness of his sufficiency he shall be wn straits.
6 I shall touch but one consideration more, persuasive of this practice; it is this: The peculiar nature of our religion specially requires it, and the honour thereof exacts it from us; nothing better suits Christianity, nothing more graces it, than liberality ; nothing is more inconsistent therewith, or more disparageth it, than being miserable and sordid. A Christian niggard is the veriest non- sense that can be; for what is a Christian? what, but a man, who adores God alone, who loves God above all things, who reposes all his trust and con-
6—2
84 The Duty and Reward of
SERM. fidence in God? What is he, but one who under- ‘taketh to imitate the most good and bountiful God; to follow, as the best pattern of his practice, the most benign and charitable Jesus, the Son of God; to obey the laws of God, and his Christ, the sum and substance of which is charity; half whose religion doth consist in loving his neighbour as himself? What is he, further, but one who hath renounced this world, with all the vain pomps and pleasures of it; who professes himself in disposition and affection of mind to forsake all things for Christ’s sake; who pretends little to value, affect,
or care for any thing under heaven; having all his main concernments and treasures, his heart, his | hopes, and his happiness, in another world? Such
is a Christian. And what is a niggard? All things quite contrary: one, whose practice manifestly shews him to worship another thing beside and before God; to love Mammon above God, and more to confide in it, than in him; one who bears small good-will, kindness, or pity toward his bro- ther ; who is little affected or concerned with things future or celestial ; whose mind and heart are riveted
to this world; whose hopes and happinesses are settled here below; whose soul is deeply immersed and buried in earth; one who, according to con- stant habit, notoriously breaketh the two great Lukex. heads of Christian duty, Loving God with all his 2 heart, and his neighbour as himself; it is therefore, by comparing those things, very plain, that we pretend to reconcile gross contradictions and incon- sistencies, if we profess ourselves to be Christians, and are illiberal. It is indeed the special grace and glory of our religion, that it consisteth not in
Bounty to the Poor. 85
barren speculations, or empty formalities, or for- SERM. ward professions; not in fancying curiously, or speaking zealously, or looking demurely; but in really producing sensible fruits of goodness; in doing, as St Paul signifies, Things good and profit- Tit. ii. 8. able unto men, such as those chiefly are, of which we speak. The most gracious wisdom of God hath so modelled our religion, that according to it piety and charity are the same thing; that we can never express ourselves more dutiful toward him, or bet- ter please him, or more truly glorify him, than when we are kind afd good to our poor brother. We grossly mistake, if we take giving of alms to be a Jewish or Popish practice, suitable to children and dullards in religion, beneath so refined, so unproved, so loftily spiritual gallants as we: No, tis a duty most properly and most highly Christian, as none more, a most goodly fruit of grace, and a most faithful mark thereof: By the experiment es 2 Cor. ix, this ministration, we, as St Paul saith, glorify God * for our professed subjection unto the Gospel of Christ, and for our liberal distribution unto our brethren and unto all men: without it our faith is dead and senseless, our high attainments are fond presumptions, our fine notions and delicate spiritu- alities are in truth but silly dreams, the issues of a proud and ignorant fancy: he that appears hard- hearted and close-fisted towards his needy brother, let him think or call himself what he pleaseth, he plainly is no Christian, but a blemish, a reproach, and a scandal to that honourable name.
7 To all these considerations and reasons inducing to the practice of this kind of charity, I
86 The Duty and Reward of
SERM. might subjom examples, and set before you the —— fairest copies that can be imagined thereof. We have for it the pattern of God himself, who is infi-
James i. 5, nitely munificent and merciful ; From whom every ea good and perfect gift descendeth; Who giweth life, i and breath, and all things unto all; Who giveth liberally, and upbraideth not. We have the ex-
2 Cor. viii. ample of the Son of God, who out of pure charity rs did freely part with the riches and glories of eter- nity, voluntarily embracing extreme poverty and
want for our sake, that we who were poor might
be enriched, we that were miserable might become
Acts x. 38. happy ; who Went about doing good, spent all his life in painful dispensation of beneficence, and - relieving the needs of men in every kind. We
have the blessed patriarchs to follow, who at God’s pleasure and call did readily leave their country,
their friends, their goods, and all they had. We
have the practice of the holy apostles, who freely
Matt. xix. Let go all to follow their Lord ; who cheerfully sus- at tained all sorts of losses, disgraces, and pains, for promoting the honour of God, and procuring good
unto men: we have to move and encourage us
hereto the first and best Christians, most full of
Actsiv. 34, grace and holy zeal, who So many as were possess- oe ors of lands and houses, did sell them, and did im- part the price of them to the community, so that
there was none poor among them, and that distribu-
tion was made to every one as he had need. We
have all the saints and eminent servants of God in
all times, who have been high and wonderful in the performance of these duties. I could tell you of
the blessed martyr St Cyprian, who was liberal by
Bounty to the Poor. 87
wholesale, bestowing all at once a fair estate on SERM. God and the poor’; of the renowned bishop St oe Basil, who constantly waited on the sick, and kissed their sores*; of the most pious confessor St Martin, who having but one coat left, and seemg a poor man that wanted clothes, tore it in two pieces, and gave one to that poor man*: and many like instances out of authentic history might be produced, apt to provoke our imitation. ~ I might also, to beget emulation and shame in us, represent exemplary practices of humanity and charity even in Jews, Mahometans, and pagans, (such as in these cold days might pass for more than ordinary among us ;) but I shall only propound one present and sensible example; that of this noble city, whose public bounty and charity in all kinds (in education of orphans, in curing the diseased both in body and mind, in provision for the poor, in relieving all sorts of necessities and miseries) let me earnestly entreat and exhort us all for God’s sake, as we are able, by our private charity to imi-_ tate, to encourage, and to assist ;. let us do this so much the more willingly and freely, as the sad circumstances of things, by God’s judgments brought upon us, do plainly require, that the public charity itself (lymg under so great impediments,
* Pontius in vit. Cypr. [Distractis rebus suis ad indigentiam pauperum sustentandam, tota preedia pretio dispensans, duo bona simul junxit, &c.—Inter Opp. Cypr. col. exxxvi.]
* Greg. Naz. [Acad rodro, oS€ rois xeikeow amnéiov tipay thy vooov.—Orat. xLuI. Opp. Tom. 1. p. 818 p.]
* Sulp. Sever. [de Vit. B. Mart. cap. iii. p. 303. Obvium habet in porta Ambianensium civitatis pauperem nudum..... nihil preter chlamyden qua indutus erat, habebat..... Arrepto
itaque ferro, quo accinctus erat, mediam dividit, partemque ejus pauperi tribuit, reliqua rursus induitur. |
88 The Duty and Reward of
SERM. discouragements, and distresses) should be sup- —— ported, supplied, and relieved by particular liberal- _ ity. No words that I can devise will be so apt to affect and move you, as the case itself, if you please to consider it: hear it therefore speaking, and, I pray, with a pious and charitable disposition of mind attend thereto : A true report, &e. For this excellent pattern of pious bounty and mercy, let us heartily thank Almighty God ; let us humbly implore God’s blessing on the future ma- nagement of it; let us pay due respects to the worthy promoters thereof, and pray for rewards upon them, answerable to their charitable care and — industry employed therein ; let us also according to our ability perform our duty in following and furthering it: for encouragement to which practice, give me leave briefly to reflect upon the latter part of my text; which represents some instances of the felicity proper to a bountiful person, or some rewards peculiar to the exercising the duties of bounty and mercy.
The first is, His righteousness endureth for ever. These words are capable of various senses, or of divers respects ; they may import, that the fame and remembrance of his bounty is very durable, or that the effects thereof do lastingly continue, or that eternal rewards are designed thereto; they may respect the bountiful man himself, or his pos- terity here ; they may simply relate to an endur- ance in God’s regard and care ; or they may with that also comprehend a continuance in the good memory and honourable mention of men. Now in truth, according to all these interpretations, the
Bounty to the Poor. 89
bountiful man’s righteousness doth endure for ever, i that is, very lastingly, (or so long as the special —— nature of the case doth bear,) in any sense ; or for an absolute perpetuity in some sense: the words in their plenitude do naturally and without strain- ing involve so many truths ; none of which there- fore we think fit to exclude, but shall briefly touch them all.
tr As for future reputation and fame, (which, that it in part is intended here, that which pre- cedes, Lhe righteous shall be had in everlasting 1e- Ps. exii. 6. membrance, doth argue,) it is evident that it pecu- liarly attends upon this practice: the bountiful person is especially that Just man, whose memory Prov. x. 7. as blessed, (is Mer’ éyxwutwv, as the Greek renders it; that is, 1s prosecuted with commendations and praises). No spices can so embalm a man, no monument can so preserve his name and memory, as works of beneficence ; no other fame is compar- ably so precious, or truly glorious, as that which grows from thence: the renown of power and prowess, of wit or learning, of any wisdom or skill, may dwell in the fancies of men with some admi- ration: but the remembrance of bounty reigns in their hearts with cordial esteem and affection ; there erecting immoveable trophies over death and oblivion, and thence spreading itself through the tongues of men with sincere and sprightly com- mendations. The bountiful man’s very dust is fragrant, and his grave venerable; his name is never mentioned without respect ; his actions have always these best echoes, with imnumerable itera- tions resounding after them: His goods shall be Becus. established, and the congregation shall declare his: *™
90 The Duty and Reward of
SERM. alms. This was a true friend to mankind; this
was a real benefactor to the world; this was a man good in earnest, and pious to good purpose.
2 The effects of his righteousness are likewise very durable: when he is departed hence, and in person is no more seen, he remains visible and sensible in the footsteps and fruits of his goodness ; the poor still beholds him present in the subsistence of himself and his family; the sick man feels him in the refreshment which he yet enjoys by his pro- vision; he supervives in the heart of the afflicted which still resents the comfort, and rejoices in the ease, which he procured him; all the world de- rives benefit from him by the edification it receiv-_ eth from his example; religion obtaineth profit and ornament, God himself enjoyeth glory and praise from his righteousness.
3 His righteousness also endureth in respect
to his posterity. Jt is an usual plea for tenacity
and parsimony, that care must be had of posterity, that enough must be provided and laid up for the family: but in truth this is a very absurd excuse ; and doing according thereto is a very preposterous method of proceeding toward that end; it is really the greatest improvidence in that respect, and the truest neglect that can be of our children: for so doing, together with a seeming estate, we entail a real curse upon them: we divest them of God’s protection and benediction, (the only sure preser- vatives of an estate;) we leave them heirs of no- thing so much as of punishments due to our ingra- titude, our infidelity, our impiety and injustice both toward God and man: whereas by liberally bestowing on the poor, we demise unto them God's
Bounty to the Poor. 91
blessing, which is the best inheritance ; we recom- SERM. mend them to God’s special care, which is the best tuition; we leave them God’s protection and pro- vidence, which are a wealth indefectible and inex- haustible; we constitute God their guardian, who will most faithfully manage, and most wisely im- prove their substance, both that which we leave to | them, and that which we gave for them to the poor; we thereby in good part entitle them to the rewards appropriate to our pious charity, our faith, our gratitude, our self-denial, our justice, to what- ever of good is virtually contained in our acts of bounty; to omit the honour and good-will of men, which constantly adhere to the bountiful man’s
house and family. A good man leaveth an inhe- Prov. xiii —ritance to his children’s children. Tt is therefore ~ expressly mentioned in Scripture as a recompense peculiar to this virtue, that security from want and all happiness do attend the posterity of the bountiful person: He 1s ever merciful and lendeth, Ps. xxvii. and his seed is blessed, saith David of him gener- ally: and David also particularly observed, that in all the course of his long life he could find no exception to the rule: I have been young, and now Ps. xxxvii. am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken,” nor his seed begging their bread.
4 His righteousness also endureth for ever in the
perpetual favour of God, and in the eternal rewards which God will confer upon him, who, out of con- science and reverence toward God, out of good-will and kindness toward his brother, hath dispersed, and given to the poor. God will not, as the apostle Heb. vi. saith, be unjust to forget his labour of charity in* ministering to his poor brother: from the seed
SERM. I
Gal. vi. 8. 1 Tim. vi. 19.
Matt. xiii. 44, 46.
Matt. xxv. 21, 23.
1 Sam. xvi. 13
t Kings i. 39-
92 The Duty and Reward of
which he hath sown to the Spirit, he shall assuredly reap a most plentiful crop of blessings spiritual; he shall effectually enjoy The good foundation that he hath stored wp: for the goods he hath sold and delivered, he shall bona fide receive his bargain, the Hidden treasure and Precious pearl of eternal life ; for this best improvement of his talent of worldly riches, he shall hear the Huge bone serve, Well done, good and faithful servant, enter ito thy master’s yoy: he shall at last find God infinitely more bountiful to him, than he hath been unto the poor.
Thus when all the flashes of sensual pleasure are
quite extinct; when all the flowers of secular glory
are withered away; when all earthly treasures are buried in darkness; when this world and all the fashion of it are utterly vanished and gone, the bountiful man’s state will still be firm and flourish- ing, and His righteousness shall endure for ever.
It follows, His horn shall be exalted with honour. A horn is an emblem of power; for in it the beasts’ strength, offensive and defensive, doth consist; and of plenty, for it hath within it a capacity apt to con- tain what is put into it; and of sanctity, for that in it was put the holy oil, with which kings were con- secrated; and of dignity, both in consequence upon the reasons mentioned, (as denoting might, and influence, and sacredness accompanying sovereign dignity,) and because also it is an especial beauty and ornament to the creature which hath it; so that this expression (His horn shall be exalted with honour) may be supposed to import, that an abun- dance of high and holy, of firm and solid honour shall attend upon the bountiful person. And that
Bounty to the Poor. 93
so it truly shall, may from many considerations SERM. appear. : t Honour is inseparably annexed thereto, as
its natural companion and shadow. God hath im- pressed upon all virtue a majesty and a beauty, which do command respect, and with a kindly vio- lence extort veneration from men: such is the natural constitution of our souls, that as our sense necessarily liketh what is fair and sweet, so our mind unavoidably will esteem what is virtuous and worthy; all good actions as such are honourable: but of all virtues, beneficence doth with most un- questionable right claim honour, and with irresisti- ble force procures it; as it is indeed the most divine of virtues, so men are most apt to venerate them, whom they observe eminently to practise it. Other virtues men see, and approve as goodly to the sight; but this they taste and feel; this by most sensible experience they find to be pleasant and profitable, and cannot therefore but highly prize it”. They, who Do their alms before men, although out Matt. vi. of an unworthy vain-glorious design, have yet, as “ our Saviour intimates, their reward ; they fail not to get honour thereby ; ; and even so have no bad pennyworth : for, in the Wise Man’s judgment, A Prov. xxii. good name is oe to be chosen than great riches; they receive at least fine air, for gross earth; and things very spiritual, for things most material; they obtain that which every man doth naturally desire and prize, for that which only fashion in some places endeareth and commendeth: they get the | end for the means; for scarce any man seeketh
" @idovvra b€ cxeddv padiora of edevO€pior Tov aw aperiss apéedi- pot yap, roto & ev ri ddce.—Arist. [Eth. rv. 1, 11.]
94 The Duty and Reward of
SERM. wealth for itself, but either for honour*, or for vir- —tue’s sake, that he may live creditably, or may do good therewith: necessity is served with a little, pleasure may be satisfied with a competence ; abun-
dance is required only to support honour or promote
good; and honour by a natural connection adhereth
Prov. xxi to bounty. He that followeth after righteousness
| and mercy findeth life, righteousness, and honour.
2 But further, an accession of honour, accord- ing to gracious promise, (grounded upon somewhat of special reason, of equity and decency in the thing itself,}) is due from God unto the bountiful person, and is by special providence surely conferred on him. There is no kind of piety, or instance of. obedience, whereby God himself is more signally honoured, than by this. These are chiefly those
sath 3 Good works, the which men seeing, are apt to glo- Phil. i. 11. 77fy our Father which is in heaven; Being filled with the fruits of righteousness, which are by Christ
Jesus to the glory and praise of God. To these
fruits that is most applicable which our Lord saith,
_ John xv.8. Hereby is my Father glorified, uf ye bear much Prov. xiv. frwit; for as [He that oppresseth the poor reproach- ie eth his Maker; so he honoureth him, that hath mercy on the poor. The comfortable experience of good
in this sort of actions will most readily dispose men
to admire and commend the excellency, the wis-
dom, the goodness of the divine laws, will therefore procure God hearty praise and thanks for them: for,
2Cor.ix. as St Paul teacheth us, The administration of this ‘service not only supplieth the want of the saints, but is abundant also by many thanksgivings unto
* Al yap Suvacreia kal 6 mArovros Sid Tv Tysyy eorw alperd,— Id. [Ibid. ry. 3, 18.)
Bounty to the Poor. 95
God; whilst by experiment of this ministration, they a glorify God for your professed subjection unto the —— Gospel of Christ, and for your liberal distribution Wa unto them, and unto all men. Since then God is so peculiarly honoured by this practice, it is but equal and fit that God should remunerate it with honour: God’s noble goodness will not let him seem defective in any sort of beneficial correspondence toward us; we shall never be able to yield him any kind of good thing in duty, which he will not be more apt to render us in grace; they who, as Solo- mon speaketh, Honour God with their substance, Prov. ii. shall by God certainly be honoured with his bless-” ing: reason intimates so much, and we beside have God’s express word for it: Them, saith he, who 1 Sam. i. honour me, I will honour. He that absolutely and *~ independently is the fountain of all honour, From : Chron. whom, as good king David saith, riches and honour” cometh, for that he reigneth over all, he will assur- edly prefer and dignify those who have been at special care and cost to advance his honour. He that hath the Hearts of all men in lis hands, and Prov. xxi. Fashioneth them as he pleaseth, will raise the boun- Ps. xxii tiful man in the judgments and affections of men. * He that ordereth all the events of things, and dis- poseth success as he thinks fit, will cause the boun- tiful person’s enterprizes to prosper, and come off with credit. He will not suffer the reputation of so real an honourer of himself to be extremely slurred by disaster, to be blasted by slander, to be supplanted by envy or malice; but will Bring forth Ps. xxxvii. his righteousness as the light, and his judgment as * the noon-day.
3 God will thus exalt the bountiful man’s horn
SERM.
2 Tim. iv. 8. 1 Pet. v. 4.
Heb. xiii. 20, 21.
96 The Duty and Reward of Bounty to the Poor.
even here in this world, and to an infinitely higher pitch he will advance it in the future state: he shall there be set at the right hand, in a most honourable place and rank, among the chief friends and favourites of the heavenly King, in happy con- sortship with the holy angels and blessed saints: where, in recompense of his pious bounty, he shall, from the bountiful hands of his most gracious Lord, receive An incorruptible crown of righteousness, and An unfading crown of glory. The which God of his infinite mercy grant unto us all, through Jesus Christ our Lord; to whom for ever be all praise. Amen.
Now the God of peace, that brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting covenant, make us perfect in every good work to do his will, working in us that which is well-pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ ; to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.
A SERMON
UPON
THE PASSION
OF
OUR BLESSED SAVIOUR:
PREACHED AT
GUILDHALL CHAPEL,
ON GOOD FRIDAY, THE 13th DAY OF APRIL,
ANNO DOM. M.DC.LXXVII.
Sacramentum salutis humanz non licet tacere, etiam si nequeat
explicari.—P. Leo. I. Serm. de Pass. 7.
Boe VOL, 1 re
DAVIES, Mayor.
Martis xxiv die Aprilis, 1677, Annoque Regis Caroli Secundi Angliz, &e. vicesimo nono.
This Court doth earnestly desire Dr Barrow to print his Sermon, preached at the Guildhall Chapel, on Good Friday last, before the Mayor and Aldermen of this City.
WAGSTAFFE.
SERMON II.
UPON THE PASSION OF OUR BLESSED SAVIOUR.
Pam, hh. 48:
And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled him- self, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.
OY ac in consequence of the original apostasy SERM. from God, which did banish us from paradise, and by continued rebellions against him, inevitable to our corrupt and impotent nature, mankind had forfeited the amity of God’, (the chief of all goods, the fountain of all happiness,) and had incurred ee iii. his displeasure; (the greatest of all evils, the foun- toi. iii. 6. dation of all misery :)
When poor man having deserted his natural Lord and Protector, Other lords had got dominion i xxvi. over him, so that he was captivated by the foul, malicious, cruel spirits, and enslaved to his own vain mind, to vile lusts, to wild passions?:
When, according to an eternal rule of justice, | Gets ie i that sin deserveth punishment, and by an express a law, wherein death was enacted to the transgressors of God’s command, the root of our stock, and con- sequently all its branches, stood adjudged to utter destruction® :
: Cyril. e. Jul. vir. [Opp. Tom. vi. p. 278 A, B. Ix. p, 303 8.]
» Tren. iii. Dds Obs Uo © Tren. v. 16.
T—2
100 Upon the Passion of
SERM. When, according to St Paul’s expressions, All —_—— the world was become guilty before God, ‘Yaodios a. M 7@ Ocp, (or subjected to God’s judgment :) All
Rom. iii.
NG, ago men (Jews and Gentiles) were under sin, under Gal. iii. 10. condemnation, under the curse; All men were con- Be? “cluded into disobedience, Eis deca, and shut up Tom i” together (as close prisoners) under sin; All men had 233. ¥- 12. sinned, and come short of the glory of God: Death had passed over all, because all had sinned: When for us, being plunged into so wretched a condition, no visible remedy did appear, no. pos- sible redress could be obtamed here below: for what means could we have of recovering God’s favour, who were apt perpetually to contract new. debts and guilts, but not able to discharge any old scores? What capacity of mind or will had we to entertain mercy, who were no less stubbornly per- verse and obdurate in our crimes, than ignorant or infirm ? How could we be reconciled unto Heaven, who had an innate antipathy to God and goodness? [ Sin, according to our natural state, and secluding Rom. vi. evangelical grace, reigning mm our mortal bodies, Rem vi, Wo good thing dwelling in us; there being a pre- 18 5- . dominant Law in our members, warring against
Rom. vii. 23. the law of our mind, and bringing us into captivity
Rom. vi. Col. iii. 9. to the law of sin; a main ingredient of our Old man
tag a being a carnal mind, RE Se is ennuty to God, and cannot submit, Ovy vroraccera, to his law; we being Eph. iv. Alienated from the life of God by the blindness of i our hearts, and enemies in our minds by wicked works: | How could we revive to any good hope, Eph. i. who were Dead in trespasses and sins, God having Vol. i, 21.
tomy, Withdrawn his quickening Spirit? How at least a could we for one moment stand upright in God’s
our blessed Saviour. 101
sight, upon the natural terms, excluding all sin, pu eal exacting perfect obedience ?
When fic I say, was our forlorn and despe- a 7 rate case, then Almighty God, out of his infinite SE goodness, was pleased to look upon us (as he z. sometime did upon Jerusalem, Lying polluted in pe ¥. her blood) with an eye of pity and mercy, so as ~”* *%* eraciously to design a redemption for us out of all that woful distress: and no sooner by his incom- prehensible wisdom did he foresee we should lose ourselves, than by his immense grace he did con- clude to restore us.
But how could this happy design well be com- ae i. 4, passed 2? How, in consistence aah the glory, with ii. 1. the justice, with the truth of God, could such ene- ; pera mies be reconciled, such offenders be pardoned, R.. ¥:: such wretches be saved? Would the omnipotent * Majesty so affronted, deign to treat with his rebels 25. | immediately, without an intercessor or advocate ? Pod Would the sovereign Governor of the world suffer thus notoriously his right to be violated, his au- thority to be slighted, his honour to be trampled on, without some notable vindication or satisfac- tion? Would the great Patron of justice relax the terms of it, or ever permit a gross breach thereof to pass with impunity? Would the immutable God of truth expose his veracity or his constancy to suspicion, by so reversing that peremptory sen- Gen. ii. 17. tence of death upon sinners, that it should not in a sort eminently be accomplished*? Would the most righteous and most Holy God let slip an
4 Athan. de Incarn. [@avdrov yap jv xpeia, Kat Odvaroy brep mavrav eet yeverOat, iva To mapa Tavr@y opedopevoy yérntrat.—Opp.
Tom. 1. p. 64 F.]
102 Upon the Passion of
SERM. opportunity so advantageous for demonstrating his
‘__ perfect love of innocence, and abhorrence of ini-
quity? Could we therefore well be cleared from
our guilt without an expiation, or reinstated in
freedom without a ransom, or exempted from con- demnation without some punishment ?
No: God was so pleased to prosecute his de- signs of goodness and mercy, as thereby nowise to impair or obscure, but rather to advance and illus- trate the glories of his sovereign dignity, of his severe justice, of his immaculate holiness, of his unchangeable steadiness in word and purpose. He accordingly would be sued to for peace and mercy: nor would he grant them absolutely, without due. compensations for the wrongs he had sustained ; yet so, that his goodness did find us a Mediator, and furnish us with means to satisfy him. He would not condescend to a simple remission of our debts; yet so, that, saving his right and honour, he did stoop lower for an effectual abolition of them. He would make good his word, not to let our trespasses go unpunished; yet so, that by our punishment we might receive advantage. He would manifest his detestation of wickedness in a way more illustrious than if he had persecuted it down to hell, and irreversibly doomed it to endless torment.
But how might these things be effected ? Where was there a Mediator proper and worthy to intercede for us? Who could presume to solicit and plead in our behalf? Who should dare to put himself between God and us, or offer to screen mankind from the divine wrath and vengeance ? Who had so great an interest in the court of hea-
our blessed Saviour. 1038
ven, as to ingratiate such a brood of apostate ene- SERM. mies thereto? Who could assume the confidence to propose terms of reconciliation, or to agitate a new Covenant, wherewith God might be satisfied, and whereby we might be saved? Where, in hea- ven or earth, could there be found a priest fit to atone for sins so vastly numerous, so extremely heinous ? And whence should a sacrifice be taken, of value sufficient to expiate for so manifold enor- mities, committed against the infinite Majesty of Heaven? Who could Find out the everlasting redemption® of innumerable souls, or lay down a competent ransom for them all? Not to say, could also purchase for them eternal life and bliss ?
These are questions which would puzzle all the wit of man, yea, would gravel all the wisdom of angels to resolve: for plain it is, that no creature on earth, none in heaven, could well undertake or perform this work.
Where on earth, among the degenerate sons of Adam, could be found Such an high priest as Heb. vii. became us, holy, harmless undefiled, separate from i sinners ? and how could a man, however innocent and pure as a seraphim, so perform his duty, as to do more than merit or satisfy for himself? How many lives could the life of one man serve to ran- som; seeing that it is asserted of the greatest and richest among men, that None of them can by any Ps. xlix. 7. means redeem his brother, or give to God a ransom for him.
And how could available help in this case be expected from any of the angelical host; seeing (beside their bemg in nature different from us,
© Al@viay Nitpoow ebpdpevos.—Heb. ix. 12.
104 Upon the Passion of
SERM. and thence improper to merit or satisfy for us ;
Tsai. xliii,
rs exiv.. 21.
Hos. xiii.
4.
Tsai. lix, 16.
beside their comparative meanness, and infinite distance from the majesty of God) they are but our fellow-servants, and have obligations to dis- charge for themselves, and cannot be solvent for more than for their own debts of gratitude and service to their infinitely-bountiful Creator; they also themselves needing a Saviour, to preserve them by his grace in their happy state ?
Indeed, no creature might aspire to so august an honour, none could achieve so marvellous a work, as to redeem from infinite guilt and misery the noblest part of all the visible creation : none could presume to invade that high prerogative of God, or attempt to infringe the truth of that reiter- ated proclamation, J, even I, am the Lord, and beside me there is no Saviour.
Wherefore, seeing that a supereminent dignity of person was required in our Mediator, and that an immense value was to be presented for our ran- som; seeing that God saw there was no man, and wondered (or took special notice‘) that there was no intercessor ; it must be his arm alone that could bring salvation; none beside God himself could intermeddle therein.
But how could God undertake the business? Could he become a suitor or intercessor to his offended self? Could he present a sacrifice, or disburse a satisfaction to his own justice? Could God alone contract and stipulate with God in our behalf? No; surely man also must concur in the transaction: some amends must issue from him, somewhat must be paid out of our stock: human
! Karevénoe. LXX.
our blessed Saviour. 105
will and consent must be interposed, to ratify a = firm covenant with us, inducing obligation on our part. It was decent and ee reiient has as man, by wilful transgression and presumptuous self- pleasing, had so highly offended, injured, and dis- honoured his Maker; so man also, by willing obedience, and patient submission to God’s plea- sure, should greatly content, nght, and glorify him.
Here then did lie the stress; this was the knot, Eph. i. s, which only Divine wisdom could loose. And go Luke i. 78. indeed it did in the most effectual and admirable day a way: for in correspondence to all the exigencies of &7".” the case, (that God and man both might act their oa = parts in saving us,) the blessed one Word, the! Ee only Son of God, by the good-will of his Father, Hoh a did vouchsafe to intercede for us, and to un- Ea oe dertake our redemption’; in order thereto volun- {1 ™ tarily being sent down from heaven, assuming Tit. i. 4. human flesh, subjecting himself to all the infirmi- eee ties of our frail nature, and to the worst inconven- ~ iences of our low condition; therein meriting God’s favour to us, by a perfect obedience to the law, and satisfying God’s justice by a most patient endurance of pains in our behalf; in completion of all, willingly laying down his life for the ransom of our souls, and pouring forth his blood in sacrifice for our sins.
This is that great and wonderful Mystery ce ed godliness, (or of our holy religion,) the which St”
Paul here doth express, in these words concerning our blessed Saviour; Who being in the form of E Phil. i, 6, God, thought it no robbery to be equal with God ;?*
© Constit. Apost. vir. 12. [Cotel. Pat. Apost. Tom. 1. p. 402.]
106 Upon the Passion of
SERM. but made himself of no reputation, and took upon ‘him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men: and being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto
death, even the death of the cross.
In which words are contained divers poimts very observable. But seeing the time will not allow me to treat on them in any measure as they deserve, I shall (waving all the rest) insist but upon one particular, couched in the last words, Even the death of the cross, Oavarov dé cravpod ; which by a special emphasis do excite us to con- sider the manner of that holy passion which we now commemorate ; the contemplation whereof, as it is most seasonable, so it is ever very pro- fitable.
Now then in this kind of passion we may con- sider divers notable adjuncts; namely these: 1 Its being in appearance criminal. 2 Its beme most bitter and painful. 3 Its being most ignominious and shameful. 4 Its peculiar advantageousness to the designs of our Lord in suffermg. 5 Its practical efficacy.
I. We may consider our Lord’s suffering as criminal; or as in semblance bemg an execution of
Isai. li, justice upon him. He, as the prophet foretold of
i him, was numbered among the transgressors; and
2Cor.v. God, saith St Paul, Made him sin for us, who
4 knew no sin: that is, God ordered him to be treated as a most sinful or criminous person, who in himself was perfectly innocent, and void of the least inclination to offend.
John v. So in effect it was, that he was impeached of the
pe Spe le Faia ’ : = 8 ~ &ec.; viir2. highest crimes; as a violator of the divine laws in
our blessed Saviour. 107
divers instances; as a designer to subvert their reli- SERM. gion and temple; as an impostor, deluding and seducing the people; as a blasphemer, assuming to 73%" himself the properties and prerogatives of God; as 4° a seditious and rebellious person, Perverting the Luke xxiii. nation, inhibiting payments of tribute to Czesar, Natt, usurping royal authority, and styling himself Christ **¥"- °3: a king: ma word, as a malefactor, or one guilty of enormous offences"; so his persecutors avowed to Pilate, Jf said teed he were not a malefactor, ig xviii. Kaxorots, we would not have delivered him up unto * thee. As such he was represented and arraigned ; as such, although by a sentence wrested by mali- cious importunity, against the will and conscience of the judge, he was condemned, and accordingly suffered death.
Now whereas any death or passion of our Lord, as being in itself immensely valuable, and most precious in the sight of God, might have been sufficient toward the accomplishment of his general designs, (the appeasing God’s wrath, the satisfac- tion of divine justice, the expiation of our guilt ;) it may be inquired, why God should thus expose him, or why he should choose to suffer under this odious and ugly character’? Which inquiry is the more considerable, because it is especially this cir- cumstance which crosseth the fleshly sense and worldly prejudices of men, so as to have rendered the gospel offensive to the superstitious Jews, and despicable to conceited Gentiles. For so Tryphon in Justin Martyr‘, although from conviction by testi-
* Constit. Apost. v. 14. [Cotel. Pat. Apost. Tom. 1. p. 317.]
* Cur si Deus fuit, et mori yoluit, non saltem honesto aliquo
mortis genere affectus est? &c.—Lact. Instit. Iv. 26. * Just. M. Dial. cum Tryph. [p. 197 a, B.] [Ei 8é kal dripas obras
SERM. aL
108 Upon the Passion of
monies of scripture, he did admit the Messias was
—_——— to suffer hardly, yet that it should be in this ac-
1 Cor. 1. 23.
cursed manner, he could not digest. So the great adversaries of Christianity (Celsus', Porphyry”, Julian") did with most contempt urge this excep- tion against it. So St Paul did observe, that Christ crucified was unto the Jews a stumblingblock, and unto the Greeks foolishness. Wherefore, to avoid those scandals, and that we may better admire the wisdom of God in this dispensation, it may be fit to assign some reasons intimated in holy scripture, or bearing conformity to its doctrine, why it was thus ordered. Such are these.
rt As our Saviour freely did undertake a life of greatest meanness and hardship, so upon the like accounts he might be pleased to undergo a death most loathsome and uncomfortable. There is no- thing to man’s nature (especially to the best natures, in which modesty and ingenuity do survive) more
oravpwOjvat tov Xpioriy, dropodpev emikatapatos yap 6 oTavpovpmevos €v TG voum éyerar eivat. Gate mpos ToiTo akpny SvoTeicTas eyo. maOnrov pev Tov Xpiorov Gre ai ypadal knpvacovat, pavepdv eatw: et d€ dia rod €v TG vou@ Kexatnpapéevov mabovs, Bovdopeba pabeiv, et €xels Kal wept Tovrov azodeiEat. |
' Orig. con. Cels. 11. p. 83. [Ilds & odk avtixpus peiSos 7d tnd Tov mapa TO KéXo@ "Iovdaiov Aeyopevoy, Ort, ‘ Mndéva reicas pexpe etn, a a ‘ ‘ c a A > , 4 ~ c , » Gre (Gye) pynd€ ros é€avtod pabntas, ekoddaOn Kai Toradra irrépewe ; ] vit. p. 368. [Tov d€ Bio pev emppnrorar@, Oavarw dé oixticr@ xpnod- pevov, Ocdv Tider be. |
™ Aug. de Civ. Dei, x. 28. [Opp. Tom. vit. col. 263 c.] [Hune autem Christum esse non credis; contemnis enim eum propter corpus ex femina acceptum, et propter crucis opprobrium. ]
™ Cyril. ec. Jul. vr. Opp. Tom. vi. p. 194 ¢. [Eira & Svorvyeis dv- Opwmoi—ro Tov oravpod mpockuveire Evdov, cixdvas avrod oKiaypa- povvres €v TH peTor@ kal mpd Tay oiknuatwy eyypaporTes, dpa akiws dv Tis cuvetwrépous tuav puonoerev, 7) Tovs appovearépous edenoeter, ot
a 1 ek > “ 4 %) 7 o « ] ,
katakodovbovvres tpiv eis rovto nrAOov od€Opov, Bote Tovs alwviovs , id ‘ | em, - ’ , “ , apertes Oceovs ert Tv "lovdaiwy peraBivat vexpor. ]
our blessed Saviour. 109
abominable than such a death. God for good pur- SERM. : oon IL.
poses hath planted in our constitution a quick sense
of disgrace ; and, of all diseraces, that which pro- ceedeth from an imputation of crimes is most pungent; and being conscious of our innocence doth heighten the smart; and to reflect upon ourselves dying under it, leaving the world with an indelible stain upon our name and memory, is yet more grievous. Even to languish by degrees, enduring
the torments of a long, however sharp disease, would to an honest mind seem more eligible, than
in this manner, being reputed and handled as a villain, to find a quick and easy despatch.
Of which human resentment may we not observe a touch in that expostulation, Be ye come out, as Luke xxii. against a thief, with swords and staves? If as a Matt. man he did not like to be prosecuted as a thief; yet “"" ** willingly did he choose it, as he did other most dis- tasteful things pertaining to our nature, (The like- Phil. ii. 7. ness of man,) and incident to that low condition, (The form of a servant,) into which he did put him- self: such as were, to endure penury, and to fare hardly, to be slighted, envied, hated, reproached through all his course of life.
It is well said by a pagan philosopher, that, No man doth express such a respect and devotion to virtue, as doth he who forfeiteth the repute of being a good man, that he may not lose the conscience of being such®. This our Lord willingly made his case, being content not only to expose his life, but to prostitute his fame, for the interests of goodness.
° Nemo mihi videtur pluris eestimare virtutem, nemo illi magis esse devotus, quam qui boni viri famam perdidit, ne conscientiam perderct.—Scen. Ep. uxxxr. [19.]
SERM.
John v. 18 ; viii. 37; 49, 59; Vil. I, TO) 255 x
32, 39-
John vi. 64.
Matt. xvi. 21.
Luke ix. 22/5 Xvi.
32, 33- Mark ix.
31.
110 Upon the Passion of
Had he died otherwise, he might have seemed to purchase our welfare at a somewhat easier rate ; he had not been so complete a sufferer; he had not tasted the worst that man is liable to endure: there had been a comfort in seeming innocent, detracting from the perfection of his sufferance.
Whereas therefore he often was in hazard of death, both from the clandestine machinations and the outrageous violences of those who maligned him, he did industriously shun a death so plausible, and honourable, if I may so speak; it being not so disgraceful to fall by private malice, or by sudden rage, as by the solemn deliberate proceeding of men in public authority and principal credit.
Accordingly this kind of death did not fall upon him by surprise or by chance; but he did From the beginning foresee it; he plainly with satisfaction did aim at it: he, as it is related in the Gospels, did shew his disciples, that it was incumbent on him by God’s appointment and his own choice; that He ought, 1t is said, to suffer many things, to be rejected by the chief priests, elders, and scribes, to be vilified by them, to be delivered up to the Gentiles, to be mocked, and scourged, and crucified, as a flagitious slave. Thus would our blessed Saviour in con- formity to the rest of his voluntary afflictions, and for a consummation of them, not only suffer in his body by sore wounds and bruises, and in his soul by doleful agonies, but in his name also and repu- tation by the foulest scandals ; undergoing as well all the infamy as the infirmity which did belong to us, or might befall us: thus meaning by all means throughly to express his charity, and exercise his compassion towards us; thus advancing his merit,
our blessed Saviour. aie |
and discharging the utmost satisfaction in our = behalf. 2 Death passing on him as a malefactor by public sentence, did best suit to the nature of his undertaking, was most congruous to his intent, did most aptly represent what he was doing, and imply the reason of his performance. For we all are guilty in a most high degree, and in a manner very notorious: the foulest shame, together with the sharpest pain, is due to us for affronting our glo- rious Maker; we deserve an open condemnation and exemplary punishment: wherefore he, under- taking in our stead to bear all, and fully to satisfy for us, was pleased to undergo the like judgment and usage; being termed, being treated as we should have been, in quality of an heinous male- factor, as we in truth are. What we had really acted in dishonouring and usurping upon God, in disordering the world, m perverting others, that was imputed to him; and the punishment due to that guilt was inflicted on him. All we like sheep tsai. iii. 6. have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the ini- quities of us all. He therefore did not only sustain an equivalent pain for us, but in a sort did bear an equal blame with us, before God and man. 3 Seeing, By the determinate counsel of God, it Acts ii. 23. was appointed that our Lord should die for us, and that not in a natural, but violent way, so as perfectly to satisfy God’s justice, to vindicate his honour, to evidence both his indignation against sin, and wil- lingness to be appeased ; it was most fit that affair should be transacted in a way, wherein God’s right is most nearly concerned, and his providence most
112 Upon the Passion of
SERM. plainly discernible ; wherein it should be most ___ apparent that God did exact and inflict the punish- ment, that our Lord did freely yield to it, and sub- missively undergo it, upon those very accounts. All ia i Judgment, as Moses of old did say, is God’s, or is administered by authority derived from him, in his name, for his interest; all magistrates being his officers and instruments, whereby he governeth and ordereth the world, his natural kingdom : whence that which is acted in way of formal judgment by persons in authority, God himself may be deemed in a more special and immediate manner to execute it, as being done by his commission, in his stead, on his behalf, with his peculiar superintendence. It was therefore in our Lord a signal act of deference to God’s authority and justice, becoming the person sustained by him of our Mediator and Proxy, to undergo such a judgment, and such a punishment ; whereby he received a doom as it were from God’s own mouth, uttered by his ministers, and bare the stroke of justice from God’s hand, represented by his instruments. Whence very seasonably and patiently John xix. did he reply to Pilate, Thou hadst no power over me, Kart’ éuov, (or against me) except it were given thee from above: implying that it was in regard to the originally supreme authority of God his father, and to his particular appointment upon this occa- sion, that our Saviour did then frankly subject him- self to those inferior powers, as to the proper ministers of divine justice. Had he suffered in | any other way, by the private malice or passion of | men, God’s special providence in that case had been less visible, and our Lord’s obedience not so re- markable. And if he must die by public hands, it
our blessed Saviour. 113
must be as a criminal, under a pretence of guilt SERM. and demerit; there must be a formal process, how full soever of mockery and outrage; there must be testimonies produced, how void soever of truth or probability; there must be a sentence pronounced, although most corrupt and injurious: for no man is in this way prosecuted, without colour of desert : otherwise it would cease to be public authority, and become lawless violence; the prosecutor then would put off the face of a magistrate, and appear as a cut-throat or a robber.
4 In fine, our Saviour hardly with such advan- tage, im any other way, could have displayed all kinds of virtue and goodness, to the honour of God, to the edification of men, to the furtherance of our salvation.
The judgment-hall, with all the passages leading him thither, and thence to execution, attended with guards of soldiers, amidst the crowds and clamours of people, were as so many theatres, on which he had opportune convenience, in the full eye of the world, to act divers parts of sublimest virtue: to John express his insuperable constancy, in attesting truth, 1'tim vi. and maintaining a good conscience; his meekness, ** in calmly bearing the greatest wrongs ; his patience, in contentedly enduring the saddest adversities ; his entire resignation to the will and providence of God; his peaceable submission to the law and power of man; his admirable charity, in pitying, in excusing, in obliging those by his good wishes, and earnest prayers for their pardon, who in a manner so inju- rious, so despiteful, so cruel, did persecute him, yea, in gladly suffering all this from their hands for their salvation; his unshakeable faith in God, and unal-
Hes: VOL, T. 8
SERM. a
114 Upon the Passion of
terable love toward him, under so fierce a trial, so
___*___ dreadful a temptation. All these excellent virtues
and graces, by the matter being thus ordered, in a degree most eminent, and in a manner very conspi- cuous, were demonstrated to the praise of God’s name, and the commendation of his truth; for the settlement of our faith and hope, for an instruction and an encouragement to us of good practice in those highest instances of virtue. ;
It is a passable notion among the most eminent pagan sages, that no very exemplary virtue can well appear otherwise than in notable misfortune’. Whence it is said in Plato, that to approve a man heartily righteous, He must be scourged, tortured, bound, have his two eyes burnt out, and in the close, having suffered all evils, must be impaled, or cruci- fied*, And, Lt was, saith Seneca, the cup of poison which made Socrates a great man, and which out of prison did transfer him to heaven"; or did procure to him that lofty esteem, affording him opportunity to signalize his constancy, his equanimity, his un- concernedness for this world and life. And, The virtue, saith he again, and the innocence of Rutilius would have lain hid, of it had not (by condemnation and exile) received injury; while it was violated, it
P Magnum exemplum, nisi mala fortuna, non inyenit.—Sen. de Prov. [cap. iii. 5.]
1 “O Sikawos paotrydoera, otpeBrOoerat, Sedjoerat, exxavOnoerat Ttopbapa, rehevtav mavra kaka madoy dvacxwdvdrevbnoerar.—Plat. de Rep. 11. [361 z.]
" Cicuta magnum Socratem confecit.—Sen. Ep. xm. [14.]
Calix venenatus, qui Socratem transtulit e carcere in ccelum.— Id. Ep. txvi. [9.]
Aiqualis fuit in tanta ineequalitate fortune. &e.—Id. Ep. cry.
[28.]
our blessed Saviour. 115
brightly shone forth®. And he that said this of Bey others, was himself in nothing so illustrious, as in handsomely entertaining that death to which he was by the bloody tyrant adjudged. And gene- rally, the most honourable persons in the judgment of posterity for gallant worth, to this very end (as such philosophers teach) were by divine Providence delivered up to suffer opprobrious condemnations and punishments, by the ingrateful malignity of their times®. So that the Greeks, in consistence with their own wisdom and experience, could not reasonably scorn that cross which our good Lord (did not only, as did their best worthies, by forcible accidental constraint undergo, but) advisedly by free choice did undertake, to recommend the most excellent virtues to imitation, and to promote the most noble designs that could be, by its influence.
So great reason there was that our Lord should thus suffer as a criminal.
II. We may consider that in that kind his suffering was most bitter and painful. Easily we may imagine what acerbity of pain must be endured by our Lord in his tender limbs being stretched forth, racked, and tentered, and continuing for a good time in such a posture; by the Piercing his Ps. xxii. hands and lis feet, parts very nervous and exqui- es sitely sensible, with sharp nails, (so that, as it is said of Joseph, Zhe tron entered into his soul ;) by Ps. ev. 18. abiding exposed to the injuries of the sun scorch- ing, the wind beating, the weather searching his
§ Rutilii innocentia ac virtus lateret, nisi accepisset injuriam; dum violatur, effulsit—Id. Ep. rxxix. [12.]
* Sen. de Prov. cap. m. ur. &c. Plut. de Stoic. Contr. [Opp. Tom. m1. p. 1931. Ed. Steph.]
o_o
SERM. II.
Mark xv. 25, 34-
116 Upon the Passion of
grievous wounds and sores. Such a pain it was; and that no stupifying, no transient pain, but one both very acute and lingering: for we see, that he together with his fellow-sufferers had both pre- sence of mind and time to discourse. Even six long hours did he remain under such torture, sus- taining in each moment of them beyond the pangs of an ordinary death. But as the case was so hard and sad, so the reason of it was great, and the fruit answerably good. Our Saviour did embrace such a passion, that, in being thus content to endure the most intolerable smarts for us, he might demon- strate the vehemence of his love; that he might signify the heinousness of our sins, which deserved that from such a person so heavy a punishment should be exacted; that he might appear to yield a valuable compensation for those pains which we should have suffered; that he throughly might exemplify the hardest duties of obedience and pa- tience.
IIJ. This manner of suffering was (as most sharp and afflictive, so) most vile and shameful; being proper to the basest condition of the worst men, and unworthy of a freeman, however nocent and guilty". It was Servile supplicium, a punish- ment never by the Romans, under whose law our Lord suffered, legally inflicted upon freemen, but upon slaves only; that is, upon people scarcely regarded as men, having in a sort forfeited or lost themselves. And among the Jews that execution which most approached thereto, and in part agreed with it, (for their law did not allow any so inhu-
" Quod etiam homine libero, quamyis nocente, videatur indig- num.—Lact. Instit. 1v. 26.
our blessed Saviour. 1i7
man punishment,) hanging up the dead bodies of SERM. some that had been put to death, was held most infamous and execrable: for, Cursed, said the law, Deut. xxi. is every one that hangeth upon a tree; cursed, that Gai. ii. 13, is, devoted to reproach and malediction* ; Accursed by God, saith the Hebrew, that is, seeming to be rejected by God, and by his special order exposed to aftliction.
Indeed, according to the course of things, to be set on high, and for continuance of time to be objected to the view of all that pass by, in that calamitous posture, doth infuse bad suspicion, doth provoke censure, doth invite contempt and scorn, doth naturally draw forth language of derision, despite, and detestation; especially from the in- considerate, hardhearted, and rude vulgar, which commonly doth think, speak, and deal according to event and appearance: (—Sequitur fortunam, ut semper, et odit damnatos’—) whence CcarpiCecOa, Heb. x. 33. To be made a gazing-stock, or an object of reproach to the multitude, is by the apostle mentioned as an ageravation of the hardships endured by the primitive Christians. And thus in extremity did it befall our Lord: for we read’, that the people did in that condition mock, jeer, and revile him, drawing up their noses, abusing him by scurrilous gestures, letting out their virulent and wanton tongues against him; so as to verify that predic- tion, I am a reproach of men, and despised of the Ps. xxii. 6, people. All they that see me laugh me to scorn: ?*
* Todro yap pdvoy ris teeurijs TO eidos td apay éxecro.—Chrys. Or. Lx1. Opp. Tom. v1. [p. 631.]
wid. Sat. X.. 13:
2 Luke xxiii. 35, 36. "E€euuxrypifov, "Evérargov. Matt. xxvii. 39. °"EBNaodnpovr.
118 Upon the Passion of
een ey shoot out the lip, they shake the head, saying, — He trusted in the Lord: let him deliver him, seeing
he delighted in him. Matt. ix. The same persons who formerly had admired xxig.. his glorious works, who had been ravished with his excellent discourses, who had followed and favoured him so earnestly, who had blessed and magnified Luke iv. him, (For he, saith St Luke, taught in the syna- ee gogues, being glorified by all,) even those very persons did then behold him with pitiless contempt and despite. In correspondence to that prophecy, Ps. xxii. They look and stare upon me, Etornxe o Nads Oewpar, fee wan’ aN people stood gazing on him, in a most scornful
in manner, venting contemptuous and spiteful re- proaches; as we see reported in the evangelical story. ;
Heb. xii. Thus did our blessed Saviour Endure the cross,
2.
despising the shame. Despising the shame, that is, not simply disregarding it, or (with a stoical haughtiness, with a cynical immodesty, with a stupid carelessness) shehting it as no evil; but not eschewing it, or not rating it for so great an evil, that to decline it he would neglect the prosecution of his great and glorious designs.
There is innate to man an aversation and abhor- rency from disgraceful abuse, no less strong than Heb. xi. are the like antipathies to pain: whence Cruel a mockings and scourgings are coupled as ingredients of the sore persecutions sustained by God’s faithful martyrs. And generally men with more readiness will embrace, with more contentedness will endure the cruelty of the latter, than of the former; pain not so smartly affecting the lower sense, as being insolently contemned doth grate upon the fancy,
our blessed Saviour. 119
and wound even the mind itself. For, The wounds SERM.
of infamy do, as the Wise Man telleth us, go down es
into the innermost parts of the belly, reaching the ne 8:
very heart, and touching the soul to the equicle at We therefore need not doubt, but that our Sa-
viour as a man, endowed with human passions,
was sensible of this natural evil; and that such
indignities did add somewhat of loathsomeness to
his cup of affliction; especially considering that his
ereat charity disposed him to grieve, observing
men to act so indecently, so unworthily, so unjustly
toward him: yet in consideration of the glory that
would thence accrue to God, of the benefit that
would redound to us, of the Joy that was set before Heb. xii.
him, when He should see of the travail of his soul, Tsai
and be satisfied, he most willingly did accept, and
most gladly did comport with it. He becume a Gal. iii.
curse for us, exposed to malediction and reviling ; **
He endured the contradiction, or obliquy, of sinful Heb.xii. 3.
men: He was despised, rejected, and disesteemed Isai. tii. 3.
of men: he in common apprehension was deserted
by God, according to that of the prophet, We did Isai. liii. 4.
esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted ;
himself even seeming to concur in that opimion.
So was He made a curse for us, that we, as the Gal. iii. 13.
apostle teacheth, might be redeemed from the curse
of the law; that is, that we might be freed from
the exemplary punishment due to our transgres-
sions of the law, with the displeasure of God
appearing therein, and the disgrace before the
world attendmg it. He chose thus to Make him- Phil. ii. 7.
self of no reputation, vouchsafing to be dealt with as
a wretched slave, and a wicked miscreant, that we
might be exempted, not only from the torment,
SERM. Il.
120 Upon the Passion of
but also from the ignominy which we had merited: that together with our life, our safety, our liberty, we might even recover that honour which we had forfeited and embezzled.
But lest any should be tempted not sufficiently to value these sufferances of our Lord, as not so rare, but that other men have tasted the like; lest any should presume to compare them with afflic- tions incident to other persons, as Celsus did com- pare them with those of Anaxarchus and Epicte- tus*; it is requisite to consider some remarkable particulars about them.
We may then consider, that not only the infi- nite dignity of his person, and the perfect innocency of his life, did enhance the price of his sufferings; but some endowments peculiar to him, and some circunistances adhering to his design, did much augment their force.
He was not only, according to the frame and temper of human nature, sensibly touched with the pain, the shame, the whole combination of dis- asters apparently waiting on his passion; as God (when he did insert sense and passion into our nature, ordering objects to affect them) did intend we should be, and as other men in like circum- stances would have been; but in many respects beyond that ordinary rate: so that no man, we may suppose, could have felt such grief from them as he did, no man ever hath been sensible of anything
* Orig. con. Cels. vir. pp. 367, 368. ['Avatapyov yodr, os els éhpwov euBrnOeis, kat mapavoudtara ovvTpiBdspevos, eb pada Katedpdver Tis Koddgews, A€yor, Urioce, mricce Tov AvaEdpxov OvAakor, ad’rov yap ob mrigoets. .... OvKovy ’Erixrntov; 6s, tov Seandrov orpeBdodvros
> - ‘ a « a > ‘ »” , ‘ , aitov TO okédos, Uropedi@v avexmAnktas édeye, Kardooets* Kal Kard-
> ” ? a , aytos, Ouk ele OV, ELITEV, OTL KATACOC ELS > ? > ’
_
our blessed Saviour. Tot
comparable to what he did endure; that passage gee bemg truly applicable to him, Behold, and see if there be any sorrow like to my sorrow, which is done unto me, wherewith the Lord hath afflicted me in the day of his fierce anger; as that unparalleled Sweating out great lumps of blood may argue; and Luke xxii. as the terms expressing his resentments do inti- — mate. For, in respect of present evils, he said of himself, My soul is exceeding sorrowful to death; Mate he is said ‘Adnuovery, to be in great anguish and 38. anxiety, to be in An agony or pang of sorrow. In regard to mischiefs which he saw coming on, he is said to be Disturbed in spirit, and to be Sore Sohn xiii. amazed, or dismayed at them. To such an exceed- ie ing height did the sense of incumbent evils, and °* the prospect of impendent calamities, the appre- hension of his case, together with a reflection on our condition, screw up his affections.
And no wonder that such a burden, even the weight of all the sins (the numberless most heinous sins and abominations) that ever were committed by mankind, by appropriation of them to himself, lying on his shoulders, he should feel it heavy, or seem to crouch and groan under it; that in the mystical Psalm, applied by the apostle to him, he Heb. x. s. should cry out, Innumerable evils have compassed Ps. x1. 12. me about ; mine mniquities have taken hold upon me, so that I am not able to look up; they are more than the hairs of my head, and my heart faileth me. The sight of God’s indignation, so dreadfully flaming out against sin, might well astonish and terrify him: to stand, as it were, before the mouth of hell belching fire and brimstone in his face; to le down in the hottest furnace of divine ven-
Lam. i. 12.
- 37)
122 Upon the Passion of
SERM. geance; to quench with his own heart-blood the
wrath of heaven, and the infernal fire, (as he did in regard to those who will not rekindle them to themselves,) might well in the heart of a man beget unconceivable and unexpressible pressures of affliction. When such a Father (so infinitely good and kind to him, whom he so dearly and perfectly loved) did hide his face from him, did frown on him, how could he otherwise than be mightily trou- bled? Is it strange that so hearty a love, so tender a pity, contemplating our sinfulness, and experimenting our wretchedness, should be deeply touched? To see, I say, so plainly, to feel so throughly the horrible blindness, the folly, the infi- delity, the imbecility, the ingratitude, the incorri- gibility, the strange perverseness, perfidiousness, malice, and cruelty of mankind in so many in- stances, (in the treason of Judas, in the denial of Peter, in the desertion of all the apostles, in the spite and rage of the persecutors, in the falsehood of the witnesses, in the abuses of the people, in the complance of Pilate, in a general conspiracy of friends and foes to sin,) all these surrounding him, all invading him, all discharging themselves upon him; would it not astone a mind so pure? would it not wound a heart so tender and full of charity ?
Surely, any of those persons who fondly do pretend unto, or vainly do glory in, a sullen apa- thy, or a stubborn contempt of the evils meident to our nature and state, would in such a case have been utterly dejected: the most resolved philoso- pher would have been dashed into confusion at the sight, would have been crushed into desperation
our blessed Saviour. 123
under the sense of those evils which did assault him.
With the greatness of the causes, the goodness of his constitution did conspire to increase his suf- fermes. For surely, as his complexion was most pure and delicate, his spirit most vivid and appre- hensive, his affections most pliant and tractable; so accordingly would the impressions upon him be most sensible, and consequently the pains which he felt (in body or soul) most aftlictive.
That we in like cases are not alike moved, that we do not tremble at the apprehensions of God’s displeasure, that we are not affrighted with the Sense of our sins, that we do not with sad horror resent our danger and our misery, doth arise from that we have very glimmering and faint concep- tions of those matters; or that they do not im so clear and lively a manner strike our fancy; (not appearing in their true nature and proper shape, so heinous and so hideous as they really are in them- selves and in their consequences;) or because we have but weak persuasions about them; or because we do but slightly consider them; or from that our hearts are very hard and callous, our affections very cold and dull, so that nothing of this nature (nothing beside gross material affairs) can mollify or melt them; or for that we have in us small love to God, and a slender regard to our own welfare; in fine, for that in spiritual matters we are neither SO Wise, so sober, so serious, nor so good or inge- nuous, in any reasonable measure, as we should be. But our Saviour, in all those respects, was other- wise disposed. He most evidently discerned the wrath of God, the grievousness of sin, the wretch-
SERM. i;
124 Upon the Passion of
SERM. edness of man, most truly, most fully, most strongly represented to his mind: he most firmly believed, yea most certainly knew, whatever God’s law had declared about them: he did exactly consider and weigh them: his heart was most soft and sensible, his affections were most quick and excitable by their due objects: he was full of dutiful love to God, and most ardently desirous of our good, bear- ing a more than fraternal good-will towards us. Whence it is not so marvellous that as a man, as a transcendently wise and good man, he was so vehe- mently affected by those occurrences, that his ima- gination was so troubled, and his passions so stirred. by them; so that he thence did suffer in a manner and to a degree unconceivable; according to that ejaculation in the Greek liturgies, Ard rév ayveorwy cov waOnuatwv édéncov npas, Xpiote, By thy unknown sufferings, O Christ, have mercy onus. But further,
IV. We may consider, that this way of suffer- ing had in it some particular advantages, conducing to the accomplishment of our Lord’s principal designs.
Its being very notorious, and lasting a compe- tent time, were good advantages. For if he had been privately made away, or suddenly despatched, no such great notice would have been taken of it, nor would the matter of fact have been so fully proved, to the confirmation of our faith, and con- viction of infidelity; nor had that his excellent deportment under such bitter affliction (his most divine patience, meekness, and charity) so illus- triously shone forth. Wherefore, to prevent all exceptions, and excuses of unbelief, (together with other collateral good purposes,) divine Providence
our blessed Saviour. 125
did so manage the business, that as the course of SERM. his life, so also the manner of his death, should be most conspicuously remarkable. J spake freely to Sonn xviii. the world, and in secret have I done nothing, said **
he of himself; and, These things, said St Paul to Acts xxvi. king Agrippa, were not done in a corner. Such a were the proceedings of his life, not close or clan-
cular, but frank and open; not presently hushed
up, but leisurely carried on in the face of the world, that men might have the advantage to observe and examine them. And as he lived, so
he died, most publicly and visibly ; the world being witness of his death, and so prepared to believe his resurrection, and thence disposed to embrace his doctrine ; according to what he did foretell, Z, being Jobn xii. lifted wp from the earth, shall draw all men to me: *”
for he drew all men, by so obvious a death, . to
take notice of it; he drew all well-disposed persons,
from the wondrous consequences of it, to believe
on him. And, As, said he again, Moses did exalt Jom ii. the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of man ‘*
be exalted. As the elevation of that mysterious serpent did render it visible”, and did attract the
eyes of people toward it; whereby, God’s power invisibly accompanying that sacramental perform-
ance, they were cured of those mortiferous stings
which they had received: so our Lord, being mounted on the cross, allured the eyes of men to behold him, and their hearts to close with him; whereby, the heavenly virtue of God’s Spirit coope-
rating, they became saved from those destructive
sins, which from the Devil’s serpentine instigations
they had incurred.
b Tren. tv. 5.
SERM.
John xviii. 36.
Luke ii. 35.
126 Upon the Passion of
Another advantage of this kind of suffering was, that by it the nature of that kingdom, which he did intend to erect, was evidently signified: that it was not such as the carnal people did expect, an external, earthly, temporal kingdom, consisting in domination over the bodies and estates of men, dignified by outward wealth and splendour, managed by worldly power and policy, promoted by forcible compulsion and terror of arms, affording the advantages of safety, quiet, and prosperity here; but a kingdom purely spiritual, celestial, eternal; consisting in the governance of men’s hearts and minds; adorned with the endowments of wisdom and virtue; administered by the conduct and grace of God’s holy Spirit; upheld and propa- gated by meek instruction, by virtuous example, by hearty devotion, and humble patience; reward- ing its loyal subjects with spiritual joys and conso- lations now, with heavenly rest and bliss hereafter. No other kingdom could he presume to design, who submitted to this dolorous and disgraceful way of suffermg; no other exploits could he pre- tend to achieve by expiring on a cross; no other way could he rule, who gave himself to be managed by the will of his adversaries; no other benefits would this forlorn case allow him to dispense. So that well might he then assert, My kingdom 1s not of tls world; when he was going in this signal way to demonstrate that important truth.
It was also a most convenient touchstone to prove the genuine disposition and worth of men; so as to discriminate those wise, sober, ingenuous, sincere, generous souls, who could discern true goodness through so dark a cloud, who could love
our blessed Saviour. 127
it though so ill-favouredly disfigured, who could — embrace and avow it notwithstanding so terrible : disadvantages; it served, I say, to distinguish those Blessed ones, who would not be offended in Matt. xi. 6. him, or by The scandal of the cross be discouraged 1 Pet fe from adhering to him, from the crew of blind, ? Get vain, perverse, haughty people, who, being scan- ** dalized at his adversity, would contemn and reject him.
Another considerable advantage was this, that by it God’s special providence was discovered, and his glory illustrated in the propagation of the gos- pel®. For how could it be, that a person of so low parentage, of so mean garb, of so poor condition, who underwent so lamentable and despicable a kind of death, fallmg under the pride and spite of - his enemies, so easily should gain so general an opinion in the world (even among the best, the wisest, the greatest persons) of being The Lord of + cor. ii.s. life and glory? Tow, I say, could it happen, that ?*"*"" such a miracle could be effected without God’s aid and special concurrence? That king Herod, who from a long reign in flourishing state, with pros- perous success in his enterprises, did attain the name of Great; or that Vespasian, who trium- phantly did ascend the imperial throne, should either of them, by a few admirers of worldly vanity, seriously be held, or in flattery be called the Messias, is not so strange: but that one who was trampled on so miserably, and treated as a wretched caitiff, should instantly conquer innumer- able hearts, and, from such a depth of extreme adversity, should be advanced to the sublimest
© Chrys. Orat. ux1. Opp. Tom. v1. [p. 632.]
128 Upon the Passion of
= pitch of glory; that The stone which the builders “with so much scorn did refuse, should become the < ee head-stone of the corner; this (with good assurance we may say) was the Lord’s doing, and it 1s mar- vellous in our eyes. 2Cor.iv.7. Hereby indeed The excellency of divine power 1 Cor. i. 27. : 4 ° and wisdom was much glorified; by so impotent, so improbable, so implausible means accomplishing so great effects; subduing the world to obedience of God, not by the active valour of an illustrious hero, but through the patient submission of a poor, abused, and oppressed person; restoring mankind to life and happiness by the sorrowful death of a crucified Saviour.
Mi Lastly, the consideration of our eats suffering in this manner is very useful in applica- tion to our practice: no point is more fruitful of wholesome instruction, none is more forcible to kindle devout affections, none can afford more efhi- cacious inducements and incentives to a pious life. For what virtue will not a serious meditation on the cross be apt to breed and to cherish? To what duty will it not engage and excite us?
1 Are we not hence infinitely obliged, with most humble affection and hearty gratitude, to adore each Person of the blessed Trinity ?
That God the Father should design such a
Rom. viii. redemption for us; Not sparing his own Son, (the bol. i 13. Son of his love, dear to him as himself,) but deliver- ing him up for us, to be thus dealt with for our sake: that God would endure to see his Son in so pitiful a condition, to hear him groaning under so grievous pressures, to let him be so_ horribly abused; and that for us, who deserved nothing
our blessed Saviour. 129
from him, who had demerited so much against — him ; for us, who were no friends to him, (for Even
when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son;) who were not any ways commendable for goodness or righteousness: (for Christ did suffer for sinners, the just for the unjust ; 1 Pet. iii. and God commended his love to us, that while we a me were sinful, Christ died for us:) that God thus 20°" ”
19. should Love us, sending his Son to be a propitia- Bo. v. 8.
tion for our sins, in so dismal a way of suffering, mae how stupendous is that goodness! how vast an obligation doth it lay upon us to reciprocal affec- tion! If we do owe all to God, as our Maker, from whose undeserved bounty we did receive all that we have; how much further do we stand indebted to him as the author of our redemption, from whose ill-deserved mercy we receive a new being, and better state; and that in a way far more obliging! For God created us with a word, with- out more cost or trouble: but to redeem us stood him in huge expenses and pains; no less than the debasing of his only Son to our frailty, the exposing him to more than our misery, the withdrawing his face and restraining his bowels from his_ best beloved. Ifa Jew then were commanded by law, if a Gentile were obliged by nature, to Love God Matt. xxii. with all his heart and all his soul; what affection *” doth a Christian, under the law and duty of grace, owe unto him? By what computation can we reckon that debt? What faculties have we suffi- cient to discharge it? What finite heart can hold an affection commensurate to such an obligation ? And how can it otherwise than inflame our heart with love toward the blessed Son of God, our B.S. VOL. I. 9
Rom. v. 10.
130 Upon the Passion of
SERM. Saviour, to consider that, merely out of charitable ___ pity toward us, he purposely came down from hea- , ven, and took our flesh upon him, that he might (4, i. 20, therein undergo those extreme acerbities of pain, Apoc. i. 5. and those most ugly indignities of shame for us? John xv. Greater love, said he, hath no man than this, that a 3 man lay down his life for lis friends. But that God should lay down his life, should pour forth his blood, should be aspersed with the worst crimes, and clothed with foulest shame, should be executed on a cross as a malefactor and a slave, for his ene- mies and rebellious traitors, what imagination can devise any expression of charity or friendship com- parable to this? Wherefore if love naturally be productive of love, if friendship justly meriteth a correspondence in good-will, what effect should the consideration of so ineffable a love, of so unparal-
leled friendship, have upon us ? How can any serious reflection on this event fail to work hearty gratitude in us toward our good Lord? For put case, any person for our sake (that he might rescue us from the greatest mischiefs, and purchase for us the highest benefits) willingly should deprive himself of all his estate, (and that a very large one,) of his honour, (and that a very high one,) of his ease and pleasure, (and those the most perfect and assured that could be;) that he should expose himself to the greatest hazards, should endure the sorest pains and most disgraceful ignominies; should prostitute his life, and in most hideous manner lose it, merely for our sake: should we not then appre- hend and confess ourselves monstrously ingrateful, if we did not most deeply resent such kindness ; if upon all occasions we did not express our thankful-
our blessed Saviour. 131
ness for it; if we did not ever readily yield all the SERM. acknowledgment and all the requital we were able? The case in regard to our blessed Saviour is like in kind; but in degree, whatever we can suppose doth infinitely fall below the performances of him for us, who stooped from the top of heaven, who laid aside the majesty and the felicity of God, for the infamies and the dolours of a cross, that he might redeem us from the torments of hell, and instate us in the joys of paradise. So that our obligations of gratitude to him are unexpressibly great; and we cannot with any face deny ourselves to be most basely un- worthy, if the effects in our heart and life be not answerable.
Nor should we forget, that also upon this account we do owe great love and thanks to God the Holy Ghost, who, as he did originally conspire in the wonderful project of our redemption, as he did executively by miraculous operation conduct our Saviour into his fleshly tabernacle, as he did by unmeasurable communications of divine virtue assist John iii. his humanity through all the course of his life ; so ** in this juncture he did inspire him with charity more than human, and did support him to undergo those pressures with invincible patience; and so did sanctify all this sacerdotal performance, that our Lord, as the apostle doth affirm, Did through the Heb.ix.r4. eternal Spirit offer himself without spot to God.
2 What surer ground can there be of faith in God, what stronger encouragement of hope, than is suggested by this consideration ? For if God stead- r Pet. i. fastly did hold his purpose, and faithfully did ac- in. i. 4. complish his word in an instance so distasteful to ¥%°* 7 his own heart and bowels; how can we ever suspect
9—2
SERM. Rom. viii. 32.
Gal. ii. 13. Eph. v. 2.
I Pet. i. 19. Rom. viii. 34-
1 Pet. ii. 24.
Col. i. 20,
132 Upon the Passion of
his constancy and fidelity in any case? how can we distrust the completion of any divine promise?
If God spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us, to the suffermg of so contumelious affliction ; how can we any ways be diffident of his bounty, or despair of his mercy? how, as the apostle doth argue, shall he not also with him freely give us all things ?
If ever we be tempted to doubt of God’s good- ness, will not this experiment thereof convince and satisfy us? For what higher kindness could God express, what lower condescension could he vouch- safe, by what pledge could he more clearly or surely testify his willimgness and his delight to do us good, than by thus ordering his dearest Son to undergo such miseries for us ?
If the greatness of our sins discourageth us from entertaiming comfortable hopes of mercy, will it not rear our hearts, to consider that such a punishment hath been inflicted to expiate them, which might content the most rigorous severity; that such a price is laid down to Redeem us from the curse, which richly may suffice to discharge it; that such a sacrifice hath been offered, which God hath avowed for most available, and acceptable to himself? So that now what can justice exact more from us? What have we further to do, than with a penitent and thankful heart to embrace the mercy purchased for us? Who is he that condemneth, seeing Christ hath died, and Hath his own self borne our ‘sins in his own body on the tree? Whatever the wounds of our conscience be, is not The blood of the cross, tem-
* Quis de se desperet, pro quo tam humilis esse voluit Filius Dei ?—Aug. de Ag. Chr. cap. xi. [Opp. Tom. vr. col. 251 B.]
our blessed Saviour. 133
pered with our hearty repentance, and applied by a —_ lively faith, a sovereign balsam, of virtue sufficient ———— to cure them? And may we not By lis stripes be te healed? WHave we not abundant reason, with the
holy apostle, to Joy in God through our Lord Jesus Rom.v.u. Christ ; by whom we have received the atonement ?
Is it not to depreciate the worth, to disparage the efficacy of our Lord’s passion, any ways to despair
of mercy, or to be disconsolate for guilt; as if the
cross were not enough worthy to compensate for
our unworthiness, or our Saviour’s patience could
not balance our disobedience ?
3 It indeed may yield great joy and sprightly consolation to us, to contemplate our Lord upon the cross, exercising his immense charity toward us, transacting all the work of our redemption, de- feating all the enemies, and evacuating all the obstacles of our salvation.
May we not delectably consider him as there stretching forth his arms of kindness’, with them to embrace the world, and to receive all mankind under the wings of his protection? as there spread- Isai. lxv. ing out his hands, with them earnestly inviting and ~ entreating us to accept the overtures of grace, pro- cured by him for us?
Is it not sweet and satisfactory, to view our Lev. ix. great High Priest on that high altar offering up ~~ his own pure flesh, and pouring out his precious blood, as an universal, complete sacrifice, propitia- tory for the sins of mankind‘?
Is it not a goodly object to behold humility
© Extendit ergo in passione manus suas, &c.—Lact. Instit.
Iv. 26. f Chrys. Orat, txxxu. Opp. Tom. v. [p. 563.]
134 Upon the Passion of
SERM. and patience so gloriously rearing themselves above ___ all worldly, all infernal pride and insolence; by the cross ascending unto the celestial throne of dignity
and majesty superlative ?
Is it not pleasant to contemplate our Lord there standing erect, not only as a resolute sufferer, but as
Col. ii. 13. a noble conqueror, where Having spoiled principa- lities and powers, he made a solemn show, triunyph- ing over them? Did ever any conqueror, loftily seated in his triumphal chariot, yield a spectacle so gallant and magnificent? Was ever tree adorned with trophies so pompous and splendid ?
To the exterior view and carnal sense of men, our Lord was then deed exposed to scorn and shame; but to spiritual and sincere discerning, all his and our enemies did there hang up as objects of contempt, utterly overthrown and undone.
Matt. xii, There the Devil, that Strong and sturdy one,
Luke xi, ‘“O iayupos, did hang up bound in chains, disarmed
Heb. i, 14, and rifled, quite baffled and confounded, mankind being rescued from his tyrannic power.
There the world, with its vam pomps, its coun- terfeit beauties, its bewitching pleasures, its fondly admired excellencies, did hang up, all defaced and
Gal. vi. 14. disparaged ; as it appeared to St Paul: for God, saith he, forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of Christ, by which the world is crucified to me, and I unto the world.
Gal. ii20; There, in a most lively representation, and most
Col. ai. s. admirable pattern, was exhibited, the Mortification
rem vt Of our flesh, with its affections and lusts; and our
Rom. vi.6. Old man was crucified, that the body of sin mught be destroyed.
ee ii, There our sins, being, as St Peter telleth us,
our blessed Saviour. 135
Carried wp by him unto the gibbet, did hang as SERM. marks of his victorious prowess, as malefactors by him Condemned in the flesh, as objects of our hor- a viii. ror and hatred.
There death itself hung gasping, with its sting ; Cor, xv, pulled out, and all its terrors quelled; his death 2 2 im. i. having prevented ours, and induced immortality. #2). ii. 14.
There all wrath, Hnimity, strife, (the banes of Eph. ii. 15, comfortable life,) did hang abolished in his flesh, Gol. i 20, and slain upon the cross, by the blood whereof he made peace, and reconciled all things in heaven and earth.
There manifold yokes of bondage, instruments of vexation, and principles of variance, even all The handwriting of ordinannces that was against Col. ii. 14. us, did hang up, cancelled and nailed to the cross.
So much sweet comfort by special consideration may be extracted from this event, which in appear- ance was most doleful, but in effect the most happy that ever by Providence was dispensed to the world. Further,
4 This consideration is most useful to render us very humble and sensible of our weakness, our vileness, our wretchedness. For how low was that our fall, from which we could not be raised without such a depression of God’s only Son! How great is that impotency, which did need such a succour to relieve it! How abominable must be that iniquity, which might not be expiated without so costly a sacrifice! How deplorable is that misery, which could not be removed without com- mutation of so strange a suffering! Would the Son of God have so Lmptied, (‘Eavrev éxévwoe), and Phil. ii. 7.
a ap
1 Cor. iz. 8.
Phil. i. 7.
2 Cor. x. =.
156 Upon the Passion of
abased himself for nothing? Would he have endured such pains and ignominies for a trifle? No, surely; if our guilt had been slight, if our case had been tolerable, the divine wisdom would have chosen a more cheap and easy remedy for us.
Is it not madness for us to be conceited of any worth in ourselves, to confide in any merit of our works, to glory in any thing belonging to us, to fancy ourselves brave, fine, happy persons, worthy of great respect and esteem; whenas our unworthi- ness, our demerit, our forlorn estate did extort from the most gracious God a displeasure needing such a reconciliation, did impose upon the most glorious Son of God a necessity to undergo such a punishment in our behalf?
How can we reasonably pretend to any honour, or justly assume any regard to ourselves, whenas the firstborn of heaven, The Lord of glory, partaker of divine majesty, was fain to Make himself of no reputation, to put himself into the garb of a ser- vant, and, under the imputation of a malefactor, to bear such disgrace and infamy in our room, in lieu of the confusion due to us?
What more palpable confutation can there be of human vanity and arrogance, of all lofty Imagi- nations, all presumptuous confidences, all turgid humours, all fond self-pleasings and self-admirings, than is that tragical cross, wherein, as in a glass, our foul deformity, our pitiful meanness, our help- less infirmity, our sad wofulness are so plainly represented ?
Well surely may we say with St Austin, Let man now at length blush to be proud, for whom God
our bhessed Sariovnr. 137
s made = humble= | And sce, as he doth add eo Tias greet dense of sul did bring down the —__—
alugity Physician from heaven, did leumble bam «te the form of 0 servant, did subyect him to coniume hes, did suspend him om @ cross, that Hus tumour by virtue of so great a medicine might be cured* =) may not he well be presumed meurable, who is mot eured of his pride by this medieme"; m whom me an example, can work humiltiy?
5 Bat forther, wk ths eoiemphttm doth breed sober humility, G ako should preserve us from base abjecmess of mind- for 1 doth ewidemtily Gemensrae, that, accordime to Gods infsble
we are wery comsderable ; thaé our souk:
are capable of high regard: that it isa great pity we should be lost and atandaaed DH mm Far surely, had met God mach eteemed and respected hbomsel= or doened tf aaxdwe w wech fr or recovery; divine justice would mo¢ hawe exacted or ted seach a ransom fer cer sow had they been of Gttle worth We should mot therefive shght ourselves, nor demean ourselves ke surry. contemptible wretches, as if we deserved no cam sideration, no pity from ourselves: as if we themchit
eer soaks not worth saving, which yet our Lord num
~
Bi isc en sons sagen, engine
> Qor sugerdas samact pees, St hemi Fala Det we see turS—Ei de drome Ci. ap ts Opp Tam ot eel SS
138 Upon the Passion of
SERM. thought good to purchase at so dear a rate“. By
Rom. iv. 25.
2 Cor. v. 21.
so despising or disregarding ourselves, do we not condemn the sentiments, do we not vilify the suf- ferings of our Lord; so with a pitiful meanness of spirit joming the most unworthy injustice and ingratitude? Again,
6 How can we reflect upon this event without extreme displeasure against, and hearty detestation of our sins? those sins which indeed did bring such tortures and such disgraces upon our blessed Re- deemer? Judas, the wretch who betrayed him; the Jewish priests who did accuse and prosecute him; the wicked rout which did abusively insult over him; those cruel hands that smote him; those pitiless hearts that scorned him; those poisonous tongues that mocked him and reviled him; all those who were the instruments and abettors of his affliction, how do we loathe and abhor them! how do we detest their names and execrate their memories! But how much greater reason have we to abominate our sins, which were the true, the principal actors of all that woful tragedy! He was delivered for our offences; they were indeed the traitors, which by the hands of Judas delivered him up. He that knew no sin, was made sin for us; that is, was accused, was condemned, was exe- cuted as a sinner for us. It was therefore we, who by our sins did impeach him; the spiteful priests were but our advocates: we by them did adjudge
* Aut vero pro minimo habet Deus hominem, propter quem mori yoluit Unicum suum?—Id. in Psal. exlviii. [Opp. Tom. ty. col. 1676 F.]
Si vobis ex terrena fragilitate viles estis, ex pretio vestro vos estimate.—Id.
| | | |
our blessed Saviour. 139
and sentence him; Pilate was but drawn in against SERM. his will and conscience to be our poblcciae fees that behalf: we by them did inflict that horrid punishment on him; the Roman executioners were but our representatives therein. He became a Gal. iii. 13. curse for us; that is, all the mockery, derision, and contumely he endured, did proceed from us; the silly people were but properties acting our parts. Our sins were they that cried out, Crucifige, (Cru- Luke xxiii cify him, crucify him,) with clamours more loud John xix. and more importunate than did all the Jewish © '* rabble ; it was they, which by the borrowed throats of that base people did so outrageously persecute him. He was wounded for our transgressions, and Isai. liii. 3. bruised for our miquities: it was they, which by the hands of the fierce soldiers, and of the rude populace, as by senseless engines, did buffet and scourge him; they by the nails and thorns did pierce his flesh and rend his sacred body. Upon them, therefore, it is most just and fit that we should turn our hatred, that we should discharge our indignation.
7 And what in reason can be more powerful toward working penitential sorrow and remorse, than reflection upon such horrible effects, proceed- ing from our sins? How can we forbear earnestly to grieve, considering ourselves by them to have been the perfidious betrayers, the unjust slanderers, the cruel persecutors and barbarous murderers of a person so innocent and lovely, so good and benign, so great and glorious; of God’s own dear Son, of our best friend, of our most gracious Re- deemer ?
8 If ingenuity will not operate so far, and
140 Upon the Passion of
poet hereby melt us into contrition; yet surely this con-
Ps. cxix, 120,
sideration must needs affect us with a religious fear. For can we otherwise than tremble to think upon the heinous guilt of our sins, upon the dread- ful fierceness of God’s wrath against them, upon the impartial severity of divine judgment for them, all so manifestly discovered, all so livelily set forth in this dismal spectacle? If the view of an ordi- nary execution is apt to beget in us some terror, some dread of the law, some reverence toward authority ; what awful impressions should this sin- gular example of divine justice work upon us!
How greatly we should be moved thereby, what affections it should raise in us, we may even learn from the most inanimate creatures: for the whole world did seem affected thereat with horror and confusion; the frame of things was discom- posed and disturbed; all nature did feel a kind of compassion and compunction for it. The sun (as from aversion and shame) did hide his face, leaving the world covered for three hours with mournful blackness; the bowels of the earth did yearn and quake; the rocks did split; the veil of the temple was rent; the graves did open themselves, and the dead bodies were roused up. And can we then (who are the most concerned in the event) be more stupid than the earth, more obdurate than rocks, more drowsy than interred carcases, the most in- sensible and immoveable things in nature? But further,
9 How can the meditation on this event do otherwise than hugely deter us from all wilful dis- obedience and commission of sin? For how thereby can we violate such engagements, and thwart such
our blessed Saviour. 141
an example of obedience? How thereby can we SERM. abuse so wonderful goodness, and disoblige so transcendent charity ? How thereby can we reject that gentle dominion over us, which our Redeemer did so dearly purchase, or renounce The Lord that le A a bought us at so high a rate? With what heart can 8, a we bring upon the stage, and act over that direful a tragedy, renewing all “that pain and all that dis- 2Cor. Vidas grace to our Saviour: as the apostle teacheth that 1 or vi we do by apostasy, Crucifying to ourselves the Son Heb. vi. 6. of God afresh, and putting him to an open shame ? Can we without horror Tread under foot the Son Heb. x. 29. of God, and count the blood of the covenant an unholy thing ; (as the same divine apostle saith! all wilful transgressors do;) vilifying that most sacred and precious blood™, so freely shed for the demon- stration of God’s mercy, and ratification of his gra- cious intentions toward us, as a thing of no special worth or consideration; despising all his so kind and painful endeavours for our salvation; defeating his most charitable purposes and earnest desires for our welfare; rendering all his so bitter and loathsome suffermgs in regard to us utterly vain and fruitless, yea indeed very hurtful and perni- cious? For if the cross do not save us from our sins, it will much ageravate their guilt, and aug- ment their punishment; bringing a severer con- demnation and a sadder ruin on us. Again,
to This consideration affordeth very strong engagements to the practice of charity towards our neighbour. For what heart can be so hard, that the blood of the cross cannot mollify into a chari-
1 ‘Exovolws duapravdvrev ipav.—Heb. x. 26. ™ Kowvoy nynodpevos.—v. 29.
SERM.
.
2 Cor. viii.
9-
Eph. iv.
Col. iii. 13.
John xv. 12.
John xiii. 35-
Eph. v. 2.
Rom. xv. 5,3.
142 Upon the Passion of
table and compassionate sense? Can we forbear to love those, toward whom our Saviour did bear so tender affection, for whom he was pleased to sustain so woful tortures and indignities? Shall we not, in obedience to his most urgent commands, in conformity to his most notable example, in grateful return to him for his benefits, who thus did gladly suffer for us, discharge this most sweet and easy duty towards his beloved friends? Shall we not be willing, by parting with a little super- fluous stuff for the relief of our poor brother, to requite and gratify him, who, to succour us in our distress, most bountifully did part with his wealth, with his glory, with his pleasure, with his life itself? Shall we not meekly comport with an infir- mity, not bear a petty neglect, not forgive a small injury to our brother, whenas our Lord did for us and from us bear a cross, to procure remission for our innumerable most heinous aftronts and offences against Almighty God? Can a heart void of mercy and pity, with any reason or modesty pre- tend to the mercies and compassions of the cross ? Can we hope that God for Christ’s sake will par- don us, if we for Christ’s sake will not forgive our neighbour ?
Can we hear our Lord saying to us, This is my command, that ye love one another, as I have loved you; and, Hereby shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye love one another? Can we hear St Paul exhorting, Walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us, and hath given himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweetsmelling savour; and, We that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak—For even Christ pleased
our blessed Saviour. 143
not himself, but, as it 1s written, The reproaches of = them that reproached thee fell on me? Can we attend to St John’s arguing, Beloved, if God so 1 Jomiv. loved us, then ought we also to love one another.” ’ oe Hereby we perceive the love of God, because he laid
down his life for us: wherefore we ought to lay
down our lives for the brethren ?
Can we, I say, consider such precepts, and such discourses, without effectually being disposed to comply with them for the sake of our crucified Saviour? all whose life was nothing else but one continual recommendation and enforcement of this duty ; but his death especially was a pattern most obliging, most incentive thereto. This use of the point is the more to be regarded, because the apostle doth apply it hereto, our text coming in upon that occasion ; for having pathetically exhorted the Philippians to all kinds of charity and humble condescension, he subjoineth, Let this mind be in Phil. ii. s, you, which was in Christ Jesus; who being in the . form of God, de.
tz But furthermore, what can be more opera- tive than this point toward breeding a disregard of this world, with all its deceitful vanities and mis- chievous delights; toward reconciling our minds to the worst condition into which it can bring us; toward supporting our hearts under the heaviest pressures of affliction which it can lay upon us ?
For can we reasonably expect, can we eagerly affect, can we ardently desire great prosperity, whenas the Son of God, our Lord and Master, did only taste such adversity? How can we refuse, in submission to God’s pleasure, contentedly to
SERM. Iii
Rom. viii.
17. Phil. iii. 10.
Apoc. i. 9. t Pet. iv.
144 Upon the Passion of
bear a slight grievance, whenas our Saviour gladly did bear a cross, infinitely more distasteful to car- nal will and sense than any that can befall us? Who now can admire those splendid trifles, which our Lord never did regard in his life, and which at his death only did serve to mock and abuse him ? Who can relish those sordid pleasures, of which he living did not vouchsafe to taste, and the contraries whereof he dying chose to feel in all extremity ? Who can disdain or despise a state of sorrow and disgrace, which he, by voluntary susception of it, hath so dignified and graced; by which we so near resemble and become conformable to him ; by which we concur and partake with him; yea, by which in some cases we may promote, and after a sort com- plete his designs, Filling up, as St Paul speaketh,
- that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ in
our flesh ? ;
Who now can hugely prefer being esteemed, approved, favoured, commended by men, before infamy, reproach, derision, and persecution from them; especially when these do follow conscientious adherence to righteousness? Who can be very ambitious of worldly honour and repute, covetous of wealth", or greedy of pleasure, who doth observe the Son of God choosing rather to hang upon a cross, than to sit upon a throne; inviting the clamours of scorn and spite, rather than acclama- tions of blessing and praise; divesting himself of all secular power, pomp, plenty, conveniences, and solaces; embracing the garb of a slave, and the
” Cogitemus crucem ejus, et divitias lutum putabimus.—lHlier. ad Nepot. [Ep. xxxiv. Opp. Tom. tv. p. ii. p. 263.]
our blessed Saviour. 145
repute of a malefactor, before the dignity and — respect of a prince, which were his due, which he —— most easily could have obtained?
Can we imagine it a very happy thing to be high and prosperous in this world, to swim in afflu- ence and pleasure? Can we take it for a misery to be mean and low, to conflict with some wants and straits here; seeing the Fountain of all happi- ness did himself purposely condescend to so forlorn a state, and was pleased to become so deep a suf- ferer°? If with devout eyes of our mind we do behold our Lord hanging naked upon a gibbet, besmeared all over with streams of his own blood, groaning under smart anguish of pain, encompassed with all sorts of disgraceful abuses, Yielding (as it Isai. 1. 6. was foretold of him) his back to the smiters, and his cheeks to them who plucked off the hair, hiding not his face from shame and spitting ; will not the ima- gination of such a spectacle dim the lustre of all earthly grandeurs and beauties, damp the sense of all carnal delights and satisfactions, quash all that extravagant glee which we can find in any wild frolics or riotous merriments? Will it not stain all our pride, and check our wantonness? Will it not dis- pose our minds to be sober, placing our happiness in things of another nature, seeking our content in matters of higher importance ; preferrmg obedience to the will of God before compliance with the fancies and desires of men; according to that pre- cept of St Peter, Forasmuch then as Christ hath « Pet. iv. suffered for us in the flesh, arm yourselves likewise” ”
© Quis beatam vitam esse arbitretur in iis, que contemnenda esse docuit Filius Dei?—Aug. de Ag. Chr. cap. xi. [Opp. Tom. v1. col. 252 B. |]
Et: VOL. 1: 10
SERM. II.
Heb. v. 8.
Heb. ii. 10.
John x. 17.
Luke xxiv. 26. Phil. ii. 9.
Heb. ii. 9.
Rey. v. 12.
146 Upon the Passion of
with the same mind—so as no longer to live the remaining time in the flesh to the lusts of men, but to the will of God ?
12 This indeed will instruct and incline us cheerfully to submit unto God’s will, and gladly to accept from his hand whatever he disposeth, how- ever grievous and afflictive to our natural will; this point suggesting great commendation of afflictions, and strong consolation under them. For if such hardship was to our Lord himself a school of duty, He, as the apostle saith, learning obedience from what he suffered; if it was to him a fit mean of perfection, as the apostle doth again imply when he saith, That it became God to perfect the Captain of our salvation by suffering; if it was an attractive of the divine favour even to him, as those words import, Therefore the Father loveth me, because I lay down my life; if 1+ was to him a step toward glory, according to that saying, Was not Christ to suffer, and so to enter into his glory ? yea, if it was a ground of conferring on him a sublime pitch of dignity above all creatures, God for this obedience having exalted him, and given him a name above all names; We seeing Jesus—for the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honour; the heavenly society in the Revelations with one voice erying out, Worthy 1s the Lamb that was slain (Who re- deemed us to God by his blood) to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing: if affliction did minister such advantages to him; and if by our conformity to him in undergoing it, (with like equanimity, humility, and patience,) it may afford the like to us; What reason is there that we should anywise be
our blessed Saviour. 147
discomposed at it, or disconsolate under it? Much — greater reason, surely, there is, that, with St Paul ——— and all the holy apostles, we bead rejoice, boast, = a and exult in our tribulations; far more cause we Matt. v. have with them to esteem it a favour, a privilege, Take vi.
an ornament, a felicity to us, than to be displeased Pi. i. 29.
Acts v. at
and discontented therewith. James i. ' + Heb. x. 34. To do thus is a duty incumbent on us as Chris- Heb. x34
tians. For, He, saith our Master, that doth not Hep. x is take up his cross, and follow me, is not worthy of? t Thess. iit. me: He that doth not carry his cross, and go after } Hom, viii. me, cannot be my disciple. He that doth not will- x. Acts xiv.
ingly take the cross, when it is presented to him by 3pm. iii God’s hand; he that doth not contentedly bear it, 7...
when it is he Providence imposed on him, is no- 38;xvi.24-
wise worthy of the honour to wait on Christ; he is 27 oe not capable to be reckoned among the disciples of
our heavenly Master’. He is not worthy of Christ,
as not having the courage, the constancy, the sin- cerity of a Christian; or of one pretending to such
great benefits, such high privileges, such excellent rewards, as Christ our Lord and Saviour doth pro-
pose. He cannot be Christ’s disciple shewing such
an incapacity to learn those needful lessons of humi-
lity and patience, dictated by him; declaring such
an indisposition to transcribe those copies of sub- mission to the divine will, self-denial, and self-resig- nation, so fairly set him by the instruction and example of Christ: for, Christ, saith St Peter, : xem Suffer ed for us, leaving us an example, ‘Yrodund-—
vev uvmorypappov, that we should follow his steps.
P Greg. Naz. [TéAos cvaravpednti, ouvvexp@Onti, ovvtadnb: mpo- Ovpos, iva Kal cuvavagris, kai cvvdo€acOijs, kai cupBacievons, &.— Orat. xxxvi. Opp. Tom. I. p. 675 ¢.]
10—2
SERM. ib
Gal. vi. 14.
1 Cor. 1. 23.
148 Upon the Passion of
13 The willing susception and the cheerful sus- tenance of the cross, is indeed the express condition, and the peculiar character of our Christianity; in signification whereof, it hath been from most ancient times a constant usage to mark those who enter into it with the figure of it. The cross, as the in- strument by which our peace with God was wrought, as the stage whereon our Lord did act the last part of his marvellous obedience, consummating our re- demption, as the field wherein the Captain of our salvation did achieve his noble victories, and erect his glorious trophies‘ over all the enemies thereof, was well assumed to be the badge of our profession, the ensign of our spiritual warfare, the pledge of our constant adherence to our crucified Saviour; in relation to whom our chief hope is grounded, our ereat joy and sole glory doth consist: for, God for- bid, saith St Paul, that I should glory, save in the cross of Christ.
14 Let it be, To the Jews a scandal, (or offen- sive to their fancy, prepossessed with expectations of a Messias flourishing in secular pomp and pros- perity;) let it be folly to the Greeks, (or seem absurd to men puffed up and corrupted in mind with fleshly notions and maxims of worldly craft, disposing them to value nothing which is not grateful to present sense or fancy,) that God should put his own most beloved Son into so very sad and despicable a condi- tion"; that salvation from death and misery should
1 Td tpdématoy rod oravpov.—Const. Apost. vit. 12. [Cotel. Pat. Apost. Tom. 1. p. 399.]
* Orig. con. Cels. 1. p. 79. [Kai olerai ye xparivew rd €yxAnua
eret Adyov errayyeAduevor vidy eivar TOD Ocov, amodeixvupey od Adyov
, > kabapov kai dy.ov, ddAd GvOpwroy atiysdrata admayxOévra Kai arorupmav- obevra. |
our blessed Saviour. 149
be procured by so miserable a death; that eternal SERM. joy, glory, and happiness should issue from these fountains of sorrow and shame; that a person in external semblance devoted to so opprobrious usage, should be the Lord and Redeemer of mankind, the King and Judge of all the world: let, I say, this doctrine be scandalous and distasteful to some per- sons tainted with prejudice; let it be strange and incredible to others blinded with self-conceit; let all the inconsiderate, all the proud, all the profane part of mankind openly with their mouth, or closely in heart, slight and reject it: yet to us it must appear grateful and joyous; to us it is Iliarés Aoryos, A 1 Tim. i. Juithful and most credible proposition worthy of all ace acceptation, that Jesus Christ came into the world to ‘ save sinners, in this way of suffering for them: to us, who discern by a clearer light, and are endowed with a purer sense, kindled by the divine Spirit; from whence we may with comfortable satisfaction of mind apprehend and taste, that God could not in a higher measure or fitter manner, illustrate his glorious attributes of goodness and justice, his infi- nite grace and mercy toward his poor creatures, his holy displeasure against wickedness, his impartial severity in punishing iniquity and impiety, or in vindicating his own sacred honour and authority, than by thus ordering his only Son, clothed with our nature, to suffer for us; that also true virtue and goodness could not otherwise be taught, be exemplified, be commended and impressed with greater advantage.
Since thereby indeed a charity and humanity so unparalleled, (far transcending theirs who have been celebrated for devoting their lives out of love to
150 Upon the Passion of our blessed Saviour.
oeEm their country, or kindness to their friends,) a meek- ___— ness so incomparable, a resolution so invincible, a patience so heroical, were manifested for the instruc- tion and direction of men; since never were the vices and the vanities of the world (so prejudicial to the welfare of mankind) so remarkably discounte- nanced; since never any suffering could pretend to rJehnii.2. so worthy and beneficial effects, the expiation of the 19. whole world’s sins, and reconciliation of mankind to God, the which no other performance, no other sacrifice did ever aim to procure; since, in fine, no virtue had ever so glorious rewards, as sovereign dignity to him that exercised it, and eternal happi- ness to those that imitate it; since, I say, there be such excellent uses and fruits of the cross borne by our Saviour; we can have no reason to be offended at it, or ashamed of it; but with all reason heartily should approve and humbly adore the deep wisdom of God, together with all other his glorious attri- butes displayed therein. To whom therefore, as is most due, let us devoutly render all glory and praise. And, “aay Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our a sims in his blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father; to him be glory 35 v. and dominion for ever and ever. Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth wpon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever. Amen.
SERMON III
THE PLEASANTNESS OF RELIGION.
RGN. bln.
Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.
asics meaning of these words seems plain and SERM. obvious, and to need little explication. Her ways, that is, the ways of wisdom. What this wisdom is, I shall not undertake accurately to de- scribe (in an audience so well acquainted with it). Briefly, I understand by it, an habitual skill or faculty of judging aright about matters of practice, and choosing according to that right judgment, and conforming the actions to such good choice. Ways and Paths in Scripture-dialect are the courses and manners of action. For doing there is commonly called walking ; and the methods of doing are the Ways in which we walk. By Pleasantness may be meant the joy and delight accompanying, and by Peace the content and satisfaction ensuing such a course of actions. So that in short, the sense of these words seems simply to be this ; that a course of life directed by wisdom and good-judgment is delightful in the practice, and brings content after it. The truth of which proposition it shall be my
® St Mary’s, June 30, 1661.
152 The Pleasantness of Religion.
SERM. endeavour at this time to confirm by divers reasons,
ET:
and illustrate by several instances.
I. Then, wisdom of itself is delectable and satis- factory, as it implies a revelation of truth, and a detection of error to us’. It is like light, pleasant to behold, casting a sprightly lustre, and diffusing a benign influence all about; presenting a goodly prospect of things to the eyes of our mind; display- ing objects in their due shapes, postures, magni- tudes, and colours; quickening our spirits with a comfortable warmth, and disposing our minds to a cheerful activity; dispelling the darkness of igno- rance, scattering the mists of doubt, driving away the spectres of delusive fancy; mitigating the cold of sullen melancholy ; discovering obstacles, securing progress, and making the passages of life clear, open, and pleasant. We are all naturally endowed with a strong appetite to know, to see, to pursue truth ; and with a bashful abhorrency of being deceived, and entangled in mistake. And as suc- cess In inquiry after truth affords matter of joy and triumph; so being conscious of aberration and mis- carriage therein, is attended with shame and sor- row. ‘These desires wisdom in the most perfect manner satisfies, not by entertaiming us with dry, empty, fruitless theories, upon mean and vulgar subjects; but by enriching our minds with excellent and useful knowledge, directed to the noblest ob- jects and serviceable to the highest ends. Nor in its own nature only, but,
Il. Much more in its worthy consequences is wisdom exceedingly pleasant and peaceable: in
> Nihil est ei (menti hominis) veritatis luce @ulcius.—Cic. Acad. [i1v. 10.]
The Pleasantness of Religion. 153
general, by disposing us to acquire and to enjoy all = the good, delight, and happiness we are capable Gi = and by peoae us from all the inconveniences, mis- chiefs, and infelicities our condition is subject to. For whatever good from clear understanding, deli- berate advice, sagacious foresight, stable resolution, dexterous managery and address, right intention, and orderly proceeding, doth naturally result, wis- dom confers: whatever evil blind ignorance, false presumption, unwary credulity, precipitate rashness, unsteady purpose, ill contrivance, backwardness, inability, unwieldiness and confusion of thought, beget, wisdom prevents. From a thousand snares and treacherous allurements, from innumerable rocks and dangerous surprises, from exceedingly many needless encumbrances and vexatious toils of fruitless endeavour, she redeems and secures us. More particularly,
IIT. Wisdom assures us we take the best course, and proceed as we ought. For by the same means we judge aright, and reflecting upon that judgment are assured we do so: as the same argu- ments by which we demonstrate a theorem con- vince us we have demonstrated it, and the same light by which we see an object makes us know we see it. And this assurance in the progress of the action exceedingly pleases, and in the sequel of it infinitely contents us. He that judges amiss, not perceiving clearly the rectitude of his process, pro- ceeds usually with a dubious solicitude; and at length, discovering his error, condemns his own choice, and receives no other satisfaction but of re- pentance. Like a traveller, who, being uncertain whether he goes in the right way, wanders in con-
154 The Pleasantness of Religion.
—— tinual perplexity, till he be informed, and then too late understanding his mistake, with regret seeks to recover himself into it. But he that knows his way, and is satisfied that it is the true one, makes on merrily and carelessly, not doubting he shall in good time arrive to his designed journey’s end. | Two troublesome mischiefs therefore wisdom frees
us from, the company of anxious doubt in our actions, and the consequence of bitter repentance:
for no man can doubt of what he is sure, nor repent
of what he knows good.
IV. Wisdom begets in us a hope of success in our actions, and is usually attended therewith. Now what is more delicious than hope? what more satis- factory than success? That is like the pursuit of a flying enemy, this like gathering the spoil; that like viewing the ripe corn, this like the joy of har- vest itself. And he that aims at a good end, and knows he uses proper means to attain it, why should he despair of success, since effects naturally follow their causes, and the Divine Providence is wont to afford its concourse to such proceedings? Beside that such well-grounded hope confirms resolution, and quickens activity, which mainly conduce to the prosperous issue of designs. Further,
V. Wisdom prevents discouragement from the possibility of ill success, yea, and makes disappoint- ment itself tolerable. For if either the foresight of a possible miscarriage should discourage us from adventuring on action, or inculpable frustration were intolerable, we should with no heart apply our- selves to any thing; there being no designs in this world, though founded upon the most sound advice, and prosecuted by the most diligent endeavour,
The Pleasantness of Religion. 155
which may not be defeated, as depending upon divers causes above our power, and circumstances beyond our prospect. ‘The inconstant opinions, uncertain resolutions, mutable affections, and fal- lacious pretences of men, upon which the accom- plishment of most projects rely, may easily deceive and disappoint us. The imperceptible course of nature exerting itself in sudden tempests, diseases, and unlucky casualties, may surprise us, and give an end to our business and lives together. How- ever, the irresistible power of the Divine Provi- dence, guided by the unsearchable counsel of his will, we can never be assured that it will not inter- pose and impede the effects of our endeavours. Yet notwithstanding, when we act prudently, we have no reason to be disheartened ; because, having good intentions, and using fit means, and having done our best, as no deserved blame, so no consi- derable damage can arrive to us: and though we find Almighty God hath crossed us, yet we are sure he is not displeased with us. Which consi- deration, wherewith wisdom furnishes us, will make the worst success not only tolerable, but comforta- ble to us. For hence we have reason to hope, that the All-wise Goodness reserves a better reward for us, and will sometime recompense not only the good purposes we unhappily pursued, but also the unexpected disappomtment we patiently endured; and that however we shall be no losers in the end. Which discourse is mainly fortified by considering how the best and wisest attempts have oft miscar- ried. We see Moses, authorized by God’s com- mand, directed by his counsel, and conducted by his hand, intended to bring the Israelites into the land
SERM. LE.
156 The Pleasantness of Religion.
SERM. of Canaan: yet, by the unreasonable incredulity and ——stubborn perverseness of that people, he had his purpose frustrated. The holy prophets afterward earnestly endeavoured to contain the same people within compass of obedience to the divine com- mands, and to reduce them from their idolatrous and wicked courses; yet without correspondent effect. Our Saviour, by the example of his holy life, careful instruction, and vehement exhortations, assayed to procure a belief of and submission to his most excellent doctrine; yet how few believed his Isai. liii. r. Teport, and complied with his discipline! Yea, Almighty God himself often complains, how in a manner his designs were defeated, his desires thwarted, his offers refused, his counsels rejected, Isai. v. 4. his expectations deceived. Wherefore, (saith he concerning his vineyard,) when I looked it should bring forth grapes, brought wt forth wild grapes ? Isai.lxv.2, And again, I have spread out my hands all the day Jer.vii. 28, to @ rebellious people. And again, I have even sent unto you all my prophets, daily rising up early, and sending them: yet they hearkened not unto me. Wherefore there is no good cause we should be dis- heartened, or vexed, when success 1s wanting to well-advised purposes. It is foolish and ill-erounded intentions, and practices unwarrantable by good reason, that make the undertakers solicitous of suc- cess, and being defeated leave them disconsolate.
Yea further,
VI. Wisdom makes all the troubles, griefs, and pains incident to life, whether casual adversities, or natural afflictions, easy and supportable; by rightly valuing the importance, and moderating the in- fluence of them. It suffers not busy fancy to alter
The Pleasantness of Religuon. 157
the nature, amplify the degree, or extend the dura- SERM. tion of them, by representing them more sad, heavy, and remediless than they truly are. It allows them no force beyond what naturally and necessa- rily they have, nor contributes nourishment to their increase. It keeps them at a due distance, not per- mitting them to encroach upon the soul, or to pro- pagate their influence beyond their proper sphere. It will not let external mischances, as poverty and disgrace, to produce an inward sense which is be- yond their natural efficacy: nor corporeal affections of sickness and pain to disturb the mind, with which they have nothing to do. The region of these malignant distempers being at most but the habit of the body, wisdom by effectual antidotes repels them from the heart, and inward parts of the soul. If any thing, sin, and our unworthy miscarriages toward God, should vex and discompose us: yet this trouble wisdom, by representing the divine goodness, and his tender mercies in our ever- blessed Redeemer, doth perfectly allay. And as for all other adversities, it abates their noxious power, by shewing us they are either merely imaginary, or very short and temporary ; that they admit of remedy, or at most do not exclude comfort, not only hindering the operations of the mind, nor ex- tinguishing its joys; that they may have a profit- able use, and pleasant end; and, however, neither imply bad conscience, nor induce obligation to punishment. For,
VII. Wisdom hath always a good conscience attending it, that purest delight and richest cordial of the soul; that brazen wall, and impregnable for- tress against both external assaults and internal
SERM.
Prov. xv. 15.
Prov. iii. 24.
158 The Pleasantness of Religion.
commotions ; that Continual feast, whereon the mind, destitute of all other repast, with a never languishing appetite may entertain itself; that faithful witness, and impartial judge, whoever accuses, always acquitting the innocent soul; that certain friend, in no strait failing, in no adversity deserting; that sure refuge in all storms of fortune, and persecutions of disgrace; which, as Solomon here notes, renders a man’s Sleep sweet, and undis- turbed with fearful phantasms, his heart light, and his steps secure; and, if anything, can make the Stoical paradox good, and cause the wise man to smile in extremity of torment; arming his mind with an invincible courage, and infusing a due con- fidence into it, whereby he bears up cheerfully against malicious reproach, undauntedly sustains adversity, and triumphs over bad fortune. And this invaluable treasure the wise man is only capa- ble of possessing ; who certainly knows and heartily approves the grounds upon which he proceeds ; whenas the fool, building his choice upon blind chance, or violent passion, or giddy fancy, or uncertain example, not upon the steady warrant of good reason, cannot avoid being perplexed with suspicion of mistake, and so necessarily is deprived of the comfort of a good conscience.
VIIT. Wisdom confers a facility, expert readi- ness, and dexterity in action; which is a very plea- sant and commodious quality, and exceedingly sweetens activity. To do things with difficulty, struggling, and immoderate contention, disheartens a man, quells his courage, blunts the edge of his resolution, renders him sluggish and averse from business, though apprehended never so necessary,
The Pleasantness of Religion. 159
and of great moment. These obstructions wisdom SERM. removes, facilitating operations by directing the attention to ends possible and attainable, by sug- gesting fit means and instruments to work by, by contriving right methods and courses of process ; the mind by it being stored with variety of good principles, sure rules, and happy expedients, reposed in the memory, and ready upon all occasions to be produced, and employed in practice.
IX. Wisdom begets a sound, healthful, and harmonious complexion of the soul, disposing us with judgment to distinguish, and with pleasure to relish savoury and wholesome things, but to nau- seate and reject such as are ingrateful and noxious to us; thereby capacifying us to enjoy pleasantly and innocently all those good things the divine goodness hath provided for and consigned to us; whence to the soul proceeds all that comfort, joy, and vigour, which results to the body from a good constitution and perfect health.
X. Wisdom acquaints us with ourselves, our own temper and constitution, our propensions and passions, our habitudes and capacities; a thing not only of mighty advantage, but of infinite pleasure and content to us. No man in the world less knows a fool than himself; nay, he is more than ignorant, for he constantly errs in the point, taking himself for, and demeaning himself as toward an- other, a better, a wiser, an abler man than he is. He hath wonderful conceits of his own qualities and faculties ; he affects commendations incompe- tent to him; he soars at employment surpassing his ability to manage. No comedy can represent a mistake more odd and ridiculous than his: for he
160 The Pleasantness of Religion.
SERM. wanders, and stares, and hunts after, but never can —— find nor discern himself; but always encounters with a false shadow instead thereof, which he pas- sionately hugs and admires. But a wise man, by constant observation, and impartial reflection upon himself, grows very familiar with himself: he per- ceives his own inclinations, which, if bad, he strives to alter and correct; if good, he cherishes and cor- roborates them: he apprehends the matters he is fitting for, and capable to manage, neither too mean and unworthy of him, nor too high and difficult for him; and those applying his care to, he transacts easily, cheerfully, and successfully. So being nei- ther puffed up with vain and overweening opinion, nor dejected with heartless diffidence of himself ; neither admiring, nor despising; neither irksomely hating, nor fondly loving himself; he continues in good humour, maintains a sure friendship and fair correspondence with himself, and rejoices in the retirement and private conversation with his own thoughts: whence flows a pleasure and satisfaction unexpressible.
XI. Wisdom procures and preserves a con- stant favour and fair respect of men, purchases a good name, and upholds reputation in the world: which things are naturally desirable, commodious for life, encouragements to good, and preventive of many inconveniences. The composed frame of mind, uniform and comely demeanour, compliant and inoffensive conversation, fair and punctual dealing, considerate motions, and dexterous ad- dresses of wise men, naturally beget esteem and affection in those that observe them. Neither than these things is there anything more commendable
The Pleasantness of Religion. 161
to human regard. As symmetry and harmony to a the animal senses, so delectable is an even temper of soul and orderly tenour of actions to rational apprehensions. Folly is freakish and humorous, impertinent and obstreperous, inconstant and incon- sistent, peevish and exceptious; and consequently fastidious to society, and productive of aversation and disrespect. But the wise man is stable in his ways, consonant to himself, suiting his actions to his words, and those to his principles, and all to the rule of right reason; so that you may know where to find him, and how to deal with him, and may easily please him, which makes his acquaint- ance acceptable, and his person valuable: beside that real worth of itself commands respect, and extorts veneration from men, and usually prosperity waits upon his well-advised attempts, which ex- ceedingly adorn and advance the credit of the undertaker ; however, if he fail sometime, his usual deportment salves his repute, and easily makes it credible it was no fault of his, but of his fortune. If a fool prosper, the honour is attributed to propi- tious chance; if he miscarry, to his own ill manage- ment: but the entire glory of happy undertakings crowns the head of wisdom; while the disgrace of unlucky events falls otherwhere. His light, like that of the sun, cannot totally be eclipsed; it may be dimmed, but never extinguished, and always maintains a day, though overclouded with misfor- tune. Who less esteems the famous African cap- tain for being overthrown in that last fatal battle, wherein he is said to have shewn the best skill, and yet endured the worst of success? Who con- temns Cato, and other the grave citizens of Rome, B.S. VOL. I. 11
SERM. GEE
162 The Pleasantness of Religion.
for embracing the just, but improsperous cause of the commonwealth ? A wise man’s circumstances may vary and fluctuate like the floods about a rock; but he persists unmovably the same, and his reputation unshaken: for he can always render a good account of his actions, and by reasonable apology elude the assaults of reproach.
XII. Wisdom instructs us to examine, com-
pare, and rightly to value the objects that court
our affections, and challenge our care; and thereby regulates our passions, and moderates our endea- vours, which begets a pleasant serenity and peace- able tranquillity of mind. For when, being deluded with false shows, and relying upon ill-grounded presumptions, we highly esteem, passionately affect, and eagerly pursue things of little worth in them- selves or concernment to us, as we unhandsomely prostitute our affections, and prodigally mispend our time, and vainly lose our labour; so the event not answering our expectation, our minds thereby are confounded, disturbed, and distempered. But when, guided by right reason, we conceive great esteem of, and zealously are enamoured with, and vigorously strive to attain things of excellent worth, and weighty consequence ; the conscience of having well placed our affections, and well employed our pains, and the experience of fruits corresponding to our hopes, ravishes our mind with unexpressible content. And so it is: present appearance and vulgar conceit ordinarily impose upon our fancies, disguising things with a deceitful varnish, and representing those that are vainest with the great- est advantage; whilst the noblest objects, being of a more subtle and spiritual nature, like fairest
The Pleasantness of Religion. 163
jewels enclosed in a homely casket, avoid the notice of gross sense, and pass undiscerned by us. But the light of wisdom, as it unmasks specious impos- ture, and bereaves it of its false colours; so it penetrates into the retirements of true excellency, and reveals its genuine lustre. For example, cor- poreal pleasure, which so powerfully allures and enchants us, wisdom declares that it is but a pre- sent, momentary, and transient satisfaction of bru- tish sense, dimming the light, sullying the beauty, impairing the vigour, and restraining the activity of the mind; avocing from better operations, and indisposing it to enjoy purer delights; leaving no comfortable relish or gladsome memory behind it, but often followed with bitterness, regret, and dis- erace. That the profit the world so greedily gapes after is but a possession of trifles, not valuable in themselves, nor rendering the masters of them so; accidentally obtained, and promiscuously en- joyed by all sorts, but commonly by the worst of men; difficultly acquired, and easily lost ; however, to be used but for a very short time, and then to be resigned into uncertain hands. That the honour men so dote upon is ordinarily but the difference of a few petty circumstances, a peculiar name or title, a determinate place, a distinguishing ensign; things of only imaginary excellence, derived from chance, and conferring no advantage, except from some little influence they have upon the arbitrary opinion and fickle humour of the people; compla- cence in which is vain, and reliance upon it danger- ous. That power and dominion, which men so impatiently struggle for, are but necessary evils introduced to restrain the bad tempers of men; most 11—2
SERM. iil.
SERM. Tit.
164 The Pleasantness of Religion.
evil to them that enjoy them; requiring tedious attendance, distracting care, and vexatious toil; attended with frequent disappomtment, opprobri- ous censure, and dangerous envy; having such real burdens, and slavish encumbrances, sweetened only by superficial pomps, strained obsequiousness, some petty privileges and exemptions scarce worth the mentioning. That wit and parts, of which men make such ostentation, are but natural endow- ments, commendable only in order to use, apt to engender pride and vanity, and hugely dangerous, if abused or misemployed. What should I men- tion beauty, that fading toy; or bodily strength and activity, qualities so palpably inconsiderable ?- Upon these and such lke flattermg objects, so adored by vulgar opinion, wisdom exercising severe and impartial judgment, and perceiving in them no intrinsic excellence, no solid content sprmging from them, no perfection thence accruing to the mind, no high reward allotted to them, no security to the future condition, no durable advantages pro- ceeding from them; it concludes they deserve not any high opinion of the mind, not any vehement passion of the soul, nor any laborious care to be employed on them, and moderates our affections toward them: it frees us from anxious desire of them; from being transported with excessive joy in the acquisition of them; from beimg over- whelmed with disconsolate sorrow at the missing of them, or parting with them ; from repining and envying at those who have better success than ourselves in the procuring them; from immode- rate toil in getting, and care in preserving them: and so delivering us from all these unquiet anxie-
The Pleasantiess of Religion. 165
ties of thought, tumultuous perturbations of pas- sion, and tedious vexations of body, it maintains our minds in a cheerful calm, quiet indifferency, and comfortable liberty. On the other side, things of real worth and high concernment, that produce great satisfaction to the mind, and are mainly con- ducible to our happiness, such as are a right under- standing and strong sense of our obligations to Almighty God, and relations to men, a sound temper and complexion of mind, a virtuous dispo- sition, a capacity to discharge the duties of our places, a due qualification to enjoy the happiness of the other world; these and such like things, by discovering their nature, and the effects resulting from them, it engages us highly to esteem, ardently to affect, and industriously to pursue ; so prevent- ing the inconveniences that follow the want of them, and conveying the benefits aristmg from the possession of them.
XIII. Wisdom distinguishes the circumstances, limits the measures, determines the modes, appoints the fit seasons of action; so preserving decorum, and order the parent of peace, and preventing confu- sion, the mother of iniquity, strife, and disquiet. It is in the business of human life as in a building; a due proportion of bulk, a fit situation of place, a correspondency of shape, and suitableness of colour, is to be observed between the parts thereof: a de- fect in any of which requisites, though the mate- rials hap to be choice and excellent, makes the whole fabric deformed and ugly to judicious apprehension. The best actions, if they protuberate im life, and ex- ceed their due measure, if they be unskilfully mis- placed, if in uncouth manner performed, they lose
SERM. Te
166 The Pleasantness of Religion.
— their quality, and turn both to the disgrace and
1 Cor. xi.
4, 16.
disadvantage of life. It is commendable to pray ; but they that would always be performing that duty, by their absurd devotion procured to them- selves the title of heretics : and they that will stand praying in places of public concourse, deserved our Saviour’s reprehensions ; and those men who, against the custom and ordinary use, would needs pray with their faces covered, you know St Paul insinuates of them, that they were fond and con- tentious persons. Friendly admonition is very laud- able, and of rare use ; but being upon all occasions immoderately used, or in public society so as to en- croach upon modesty, or endamage reputation ; or when the person admonished is otherwise employ- ed, and attent upon his business ; or being delivered in an imperiously insulting way, or in harsh and opprobrious language ; it becomes unsavoury and odious, and both in show and effect resembles a froward, malicious exceptiousness. It were infi- nite to compute in how many instances want of due order, measure, and manner, do spoil and in- commodate action. It is wisdom that applies remedy to these mischiefs. Things must be com- pared to, and arbitrated by, her standard, or else they will contain something of monstrous enormity; either strutting in unwieldy bulk, or sinking in de- fective scantness. If she do not fashion and model circumstances, they will sit ugly on the things that wear them; if she do not temper the colours, and describe the lmeaments, the draught of practice will be but rude and imperfect, and little resemble the true patterns of duty ; but if she interpose, and per- form her part, all things will appear conformable, neat, and delicate.
The Pleasantness of Leligion. 167
XIV. Wisdom discovers our relations, duties, SERM. and concernments, in respect of men, with the na- E tural grounds of them; thereby both qualifying and inclining us to the discharge of them : whence ex- ceeding convenience, pleasure and content ensues. By it we understand we are parts and members of the great body, the universe; and are therefore con- cerned in the good management of it, and are there- by obliged to procure its order and peace, and by no irregular undertaking to disturb or discompose it; which makes us honest and peaceable men : that we proceed from the same primitive stock, are chil- dren of the same father, and partake of the same blood with all men; are endowed with like faculties of mind, passions of soul, shape of body, and sense of things: that we have equally implanted in our original constitution inclinations to love, pity, gra- titude, sociableness, quiet, joy, reputation : that we have an indispensable need and impatient desire of company, assistance, comfort, and relief; that therefore it is according to the design of nature, and agreeable to reason, that to those, to whom our natural condition by so many bands of cognation, similitude, and mutual necessitude hath knit and conjoined us, we should bear a kind respect and tender affection; should cheerfully concur in un- dergoing the common burdens: should heartily wish and industriously promote their good, assist them in accomplishing their reasonable desires, thankfully requite the courtesies received from them, congratulate and rejoice with them in their prosperity, comfort them in their distresses, and, as we are able, relieve them ; however, tenderly com- passionate their disappointments, miseries, and sor-
SERM. Bi,
Proy. viii. 20.
168 The Pleasantness of Eeligion.
rows. This renders us kind and courteous neigh- bours, sweet and grateful companions. It repre- sents unto us the dreadful effects and insupportable mischiefs arising from breach of faith, contravening the obligations of solemn pacts, infringing public laws, deviating from the received rules of equity, violating promises, and interrupting good corre- spondence among men; by which considerations it engages us to be good citizens, obedient subjects, just dealers, and faithful friends. It minds us of the blindness, impotence, and levity, the proneness to mistake and misbehaviour that human nature necessarily is subject to; deserving rather our com- miseration, than anger or hatred, which prompts us" to bear the infirmities of our brethren, to be gentle in censure, to be insensible of petty affronts, to par- don injuries, to be patient, exorable, and reconcilea- ble to those that give us greatest cause of offence. It teaches us, the good may, but the evil of our neighbour can in no wise advantage us; that from the suffermg of any man, simply considered, no bene- fit can accrue, nor natural satisfaction arise, to us; and that therefore it is a vain, base, brutish, and unreasonable, thing, for any cause whatsoever, to desire or delight in the grief, pain, or misery of our neighbour, to hate or envy him, or insult over him, or devise mischief to him, or prosecute revenge upon him; which makes us civil, noble, and placable en- emies, or rather no enemies at all. So that wis- dom is in effect the genuine parent of all moral and political virtue, justice, and honesty; as Solomon says in her person, I lead in the way of righteous- ness, and in the midst of the paths of judgment. And how sweet these are in the practice, how com-
The Pleasantness of Religion. 169
fortable in the consequences, the testimony of con- tinual experience, and the unanimous consent of all wise men sufficiently declare. But further,
XV. The principal advantage of wisdom is, its acquainting us with the nature and reason of true Religion, and affording convictive arguments to per- suade to the practice of it ; which is accompanied with the purest delight, and attended with the most solid content imaginable. I say, the nature of Reli- gion, wherein it consists, and what it requires; the mistake of which produceth daily so many mischiefs and inconveniences in the world, and exposes so good a name to so much reproach. It sheweth it consisteth not in fair professions and glorious pre- tences, but in real practice; not in a pertinacious adherence to any sect or party, but in a sincere love of goodness, and dislike of naughtiness, wherever discovering itself; not in vain ostentations and flourishes of outward performance, but in an inward good complexion of mind, exerting itself in works of true devotion and charity; not in a nice ortho- doxy, or politic subjection of our judgments to the peremptory dictates of men, but in a sincere love of truth, in a hearty approbation of, and compliance with, the doctrines fundamentally good, and neces- sary to be believed; not in harsh censuring and virulently inveighing against others, but in care- ful amending our own ways; not in a peevish cross- ness and obstinate repugnancy to received laws and customs, but in a quiet and peaceable submission to the express laws of God, and lawful commands of man; not in a furious zeal for or against trivial cir- cumstances, but in a conscionable practising the substantial parts of religion; not ina frequent talk-
SERM. a
170 The Pleasantness of Religion.
SERM. ing or contentious disputing about it, but in a ready observance of the unquestionable rules and pre- scripts of it: in a word, that Religion consists in nothing else but doing what becomes our relation to God, in a conformity or similitude to his nature, and in a willing obedience to his holy will: to which by potent incentives it allures and persuades us; by representing to us his transcendently glorious attri- butes, conspicuously displayed in the frame, order, and government of the world: that wonderful power, which erected this great and goodly fabric; incom- prehensible wisdom, which preserves it in a con- stant harmony ; that immense goodness, which hath so carefully provided for the various necessities; delights, and comforts of its innumerable inhabi- tants. I say, by representing those infinitely glo- rious perfections, it engages us with highest respect to esteem, reverence, and honour him. Also, by minding us of our manifold obligations to him, our receiving being, life, reason, sense, all the faculties, powers, excellencies, privileges, and commodities of our natures from him; of his tender care and loving providence continually supporting and protecting us; of his liberal beneficence, patient indulgence, and earnest desire of our good and happiness, by manifold expressions evidently manifested toward us; it inflames us with ardent love, and obliges us to officious gratitude toward him. Also, by declar- ing the necessary and irreconcileable contrariety of his nature to all impurity and perverseness, his peerless majesty, his irresistible power, and his all- seeing knowledge, it begets an awful dread and a devout fear of him. By discovering him from his infinite benignity willing, and from his unlimited
The Pleasantness of Religion. 171
power, only able to supply our needs, relieve us in distresses, protect us from dangers, and confer any valuable benefit upon us, it engenders faith, and encourages us to rely upon him. By revealing to us his supereminent sovereignty, uncontrollable do- minion, and unquestionable authority over us; to- gether with the admirable excellency, wisdom, and equity of his laws, so just and reasonable in them- selves, so suitable to our nature, so conducible to our good, so easy and practicable, so sweet and comfortable; it powerfully inclines, and by a gentle force, as it were, constrains us to obedience. By such efficacious inducements wisdom urges us to all duties of Religion, and withal surely directs us (as I before said) wherein it consists; teaching us to have right and worthy apprehensions of the divine na- ture, to which our devotion, if true and good, must be suited and conformed: and so it frees us, as from irreligion and profane neglect of God, so from fond superstitions, the sources of so much evil to man- kind. For he that wisely hath considered the wis- dom, goodness, and power of God, cannot imagine God can with a regardless eye overlook his pre- sumptuous contempts of his laws, or endure him to proceed in an outrageous defiance of Heaven, to continue hurting himself, or injuring his neighbour ; nor can admit unreasonable terrors, or entertain suspicious conceits of God, as of an imperious mas- ter, or implacable tyrant over him, exacting impos- sible performances from, or delighting in the fatal miseries of his creatures; nor can suppose him pleased with hypocritical shows, and greatly taken with superficial courtships of ceremonious address; or that he can in any wise favour our fiery zeals,
SERM. Iii.
pe ge
Wis. vii.
2G. Ween,
172 The Pleasantness of Religion.
fierce passions, or unjust partialities about matter of opinion and ceremony; or can do otherwise than detest all factious, harsh, uncharitable, and revenge- ful proceedings, of what nature, or upon what ground soever; or that he can be so inconsistent with himself, as to approve any thing but what is like himself, that is, righteousness, sincerity, and beneficence.
Lastly, Wisdom attracts the favour of God, pur- chaseth a glorious reward, and secureth perpetual felicity to us. Kor God loveth none but him that dwelleth with wisdom. And, Glorious is the fruit of good labours: and the root of wisdom shall never
Prov. iii. fall away. And, Happy is the man that findeth
13 ; Vili. 35.
wisdom: and, Whoso findeth her, findeth life, and shall obtain favour of the Lord. These are the words of wise Solomon in the book of Wisdom, and in the Proverbs. God loveth her, as most agreeable to his nature; as resembling him; as an offspring, beam, and efflux of that wisdom which founded the earth, and established the heavens; as that which beget- teth honour, love, and obedience to his commands, and truly glorifies him; and as that which promotes the good of his creatures, which he earnestly desires. And the paths she leads in are such as directly tend to the promised inheritance of joy and bliss.
Thus have I simply and plainly presented you with part of what my meditation suggested upon this subject: it remains that we endeavour to obtain this excellent endowment of soul, by the faithful exercise of our reason, careful observation of things, diligent study of the divine law, watchful reflection upon ourselves, virtuous and religious practice; but especially, by imploring the divine influence, the
The Pleasantness of Religion. 173
original spring of light, and fountain of all true SERM. knowledge, following St James’s advice: [fany man lack wisdom, let him ask it of God, who giveth freely. °°" * * Therefore, O everlasting Wisdom, the Maker, Re- deemer, and Governor of all things, let some com- fortable beams from thy great body of heavenly
light descend upon us, to illuminate our dark
minds, and quicken our dead hearts; to inflame
us with ardent love unto thee, and to direct our
steps in obedience to thy laws, through the gloomy
shades of this world, into that region of eternal light
and bliss, where thou reignest in perfect glory and majesty, one God ever blessed, world without end.
Amen.
SERMON IV.
THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS.
ie a Oa But godliness is profitable for all things.
ee | | OW generally men, with most unanimous con-
Prov. xiv.
sent, are devoted to profit, as to the immediate scope of their designs, and subject of their doings, if with the slightest attention we view what is acted upon this theatre of human affairs, we cannot but discern. All that we see men so very serious and industrious about, which we call business; that which they trudge for in the streets, which they work or wait for in the shops, which they meet and crowd for at the exchange*, which they sue for in the hall, and solicit for at the court, which they plough and dig for, which they march and fight for in the field, which they travel for at land, and sail for (among rocks and storms) upon the sea, which they plod for in the closet, and dispute for in the schools, (yea, may we not add, which they fre- quently pray for and preach for in the church?) what is it but profit? Is it not this apparently, for which men so eagerly contest and quarrel, so bit- terly envy and emulate, so fiercely clamour and inveigh, so cunningly supplant and undermine one another; which stuffeth their hearts with mutual
Ded, ws péya divac$ov mavraxyovd td bv’ 6BoA®.— Aristoph. [Ran. 141.)
The Profitableness of Godliness. 175
hatred and spite, which tippeth their tongues with slander and reproach, which often embrueth their hands with blood and slaughter; for which they expose their lives and limbs to danger, for which they undergo grievous toils and drudgeries, for which they distract their mind with cares, and pierce their heart with sorrows; to which they sacrifice their present ease and content, yea, to which commonly they prostitute their honour and conscience? This, if you mark it, is the great mistress, which is with so passionate rivality every where wooed and courted; this is the common mark, which all eyes aim, and all endeavours strike at; this the hire which men demand for all their pains, the prize they hope for all their com- bats, the harvest they seek from all the year’s assiduous labour. ‘This is the bait, by which you may inveigle most men any whither; and the most certain sign, by which you may prognosticate what any man will do: for mark where his profit is, there will he be. This some professedly and with open face, others slily and under thin veils of pre- tence; (under guise of friendship, of love to public good, of loyalty, of religious zeal;) some directly and in a plain track, others obliquely and by sub- tle trains; some by sordid and base means, others in ways more cleanly and plausible; some gravely and modestly, others wildly and furiously ; all (very few excepted) in one manner or another, do clearly in most of their proceedings level and drive at”.
: Prima fere vota, et cunctis notissima templis
Divitiz, crescent ut opes, &c.— Juv. Sat. x. [23.] Omnes ad affectum atque appetitum utilitatis sue nature ipsius
SERM. By:
176 The Profitableness of Godliness.
SERM. This practice then being so general, and seeing __that men are reasonable creatures, that it is so cannot surely proceed from mere brutishness or dotage; there must be some fair colour or sem- blance of reason, which draweth men into, and carrieth them forward in this way. The reason indeed is obvious and evident enough; the very name of profit implieth it, signifying that which is useful, or conducible to purposes really or seemingly good, The gain of money, or of somewhat equiva- lent thereto, is therefore specially termed profit, because it readily supplieth necessity, furnisheth convenience, feedeth pleasure, satisfieth fancy and curiosity, promoteth ease and liberty, supporteth honour and dignity, procureth power, dependencies, and friendships, rendereth a man somebody con- siderable in the world; in fine, enableth to do good, or to perform works of beneficence and charity. Profit is therefore so much affected and pursued, because it is, or doth seem, apt to procure or promote some good desirable to us.
If therefore a project should be proposed to us very feasible, and probable to succeed, in pursuance whereof assuredly we might obtain great profit; methinks, in consistence with ourselves, and con- formably to our usual manner of acting, we should be very ready to embrace and execute it. Such a project it is, which in my text, by a very trusty voucher and skilful judge of such things, and one who had himself fully experimented it, is proposed ; which in itself is very practicable, so that any of us may, if we have a mind to it and will be at the
magisterio atque impulsione ducuntur.—Saly. ad Eecl. Cath. 1. (adv. Avar, 1. p. 253. Ed. Baluz.)
The Profitableness of Godliness. 177
pains, throughly compass and carry it on: which SERM. will exceedingly turn to account, and bring in phi gains unto us unspeakably vast; in comparison whereto all other designs, which men with so much care and toil do pursue, are very unprofitable or detrimental, yielding but shadows of profit, or bringing real damage to us.
Jt is briefly this, to be religious or pious; that is, In our minds steadfastly to believe on God, {such as nature in some measure, and revelation more clearly, declareth him,) in our hearts earnestly to love and reverence him, through all our practice sincerely and diligently to observe his laws. This is it which St Paul affirmeth to be profitable for all things, and which it is my intent, by God’s help, to recommend unto you as such; demon- strating it really to be so, by representing some of those numberless benefits and advantages which accrue from it, extending to all conditions and capacities of men, to all states, all seasons, and in effect to all affairs of life.
It hath been ever a main obstruction to the practice of piety, that it hath been taken for no friend, or rather for an enemy, to profit; as both unprofitable and prejudicial to its followers: and many semblances there are countenancing that opinion. For religion seemeth to smother or to slacken the industry and alacrity of men in follow- ing profit, many ways: by charging them to be content with a little, and careful for nothing ; by diverting their affections and cares from worldly affairs to matters of another nature, place, and time, prescribing in the first place to seek things spiritual, heavenly, and future; by a all
B.S. VOL. I.
SERM. I
Mal. iii. 14.
178 The Profitableness of G'odliness.
secular wealth, as a thing, in comparison to virtue and spiritual goods, very mean and inconsiderable ; by checking greedy desires and aspiring thoughts after it; by debarring the most ready ways of get- ting it, (violence, exaction, fraud, and flattery,) yea, straitening the best ways, eager care and dili- gence; by commending strict justice in all cases, and always taking part with conscience when it clasheth with interest; by paring away the largest uses of wealth, in the prohibition of its free enjoy- ment to pride or pleasure; by enjoining liberal communication thereof in ways of charity and mercy ; by engaging men to expose their goods sometimes to imminent hazard, sometimes to cer- tain loss; obliging them to forsake all things, and to embrace poverty for its sake.
It favoureth this conceit, to observe, that often bad men by impious courses do appear to thrive and prosper; while good men seem for their good- ness to suffer, or to be no wise visibly better for it, enduring much hardship and distress.
It furthereth the prejudice, that some persons, void of true piety, or imperfectly good, (some dab- blers in religion,) do not from their lame, slight, and superficial performances, feel satisfactory re- turns, such as they did presume to find; and thence, to the defamation of piety, are apt to say, with those men in the prophet, Jt is vain to serve God: and what profit is it that we have kept his ordinance, and that we have walked mournfully before the Lord of hosts? Yea, that sometimes very pious men, being out of humour, and somewhat discomposed by the urgent pressures of affliction, the disappointments and crosses incident to all
i ee
The Profitableness of Godliness. 179
men here in this region of trouble, are apt to com- es plain and express ‘themselves dissatisfied, saying ———— with Job, Jt projiteth a man nothing that he should Job xxxiv. delight himself with God. What advantage will it??*”* be unto me, and what profit shall I have, if I be cleansed from my sin? or with David, Verily J Ps. txxiii have cleansed my heart in vain, and washed my*” '* hands in tmnocency: for all the day long I have
been plagued, and chastened every morning.
To these considerations, disadvantageous in this respect to piety, may be added, that the constant and certain profits emergent from it (although in- comparably more substantial, and to the mind more sensible than any other) are not yet so gross and palpable, that men, who from being immersed in earth and flesh are blind in error, dull of appre- hension, vain and inconsiderate in their judgments, tainted and vitiated in their palates, can discern their worth, or relish their sweetness. Hence it is that so many follow the judgment and practice of those in Job, Who say unto God, Depart from Sob xxi. us; for we desire not the knowledge of thy ways. ‘”'* What is the Almighty, that we should serve him? and what profit should we have, if we pray unto him?
For voiding which prejudices, and the recom- mendation of St Paul’s project, I shall, as I said, propose some of those innumerable advantages, by considering which the immense profitableness of piety will appear. And first, I shall mention those considerations which more plainly do import uni- versality; then shall touch some benefits thereof, seeming more particular, yet in effect vastly large, and of a very diffusive influence.
12—e
~
180 The Profitableness of Godliness.
SERM. I. First then, we may consider that piety is —— exceeding useful for all sorts of men, in all capaci- ties, all states, all relations; fitting and disposing them to manage all their respective concernments, to discharge all their peculiar duties, in a proper,
just, and decent manner.
allel It rendereth all superiors equal and moderate in
'""" their administrations; mild, courteous, and affable in their converse ; benign and condescensive in all their demeanour toward their inferiors.
Eph. vi.s. Correspondently it disposeth inferiors to be sin- cere and faithful, modest, loving, respectful, dili- gent, apt willingly to yield due subjection and service. t
Col.iii.22, It inclineth princes to be just, gentle, benign,
is’ careful for their subjects’ good, apt to administer justice uprightly, to protect right, to encourage vir- tue, to check wickedness.
Rom. xiii | Answerably it rendereth subjects loyal, submis-
Tit. iii, x, Sive, obedient, quiet, and peaceable, ready to yield
'Pet-ii-13- due honour, to pay the tributes and bear the bur-
1 Pet.iv.9. dens imposed, to discharge all duties, and observe all laws prescribed by their governors, conscionably,
Phil. ii. 14. patiently, cheerfully, without reluctancy, grudging, or murmuring.
Eph. vi 4- It maketh parents loving, gentle, provident for
1 Tim. v.8. their children’s good education, and comfortable sub-
Eph. vi. r. sistence ; children again, dutiful, respectful, grate-
Col. iii. 20. ° . ful, apt to requite their parents. Eph. v. 25. Husbands from it become affectionate and com- Ol, 1. I
Pet. iii. 7, pliant to their wives; wives submissive and obe-
CH*: 22 dient to their husbands.
gh It disposeth friends to be friends indeed, full of ‘ cordial affection and good-will, entirely faithful,
The Profitableness of Godliness. 181
firmly constant, industriously careful and active in SEEM performing all good offices mutually.
It engageth men to be diligent in their calling, faithful to their trusts, contented and peaceable in their station, and thereby serviceable to public good.
It rendereth all men just and punctual in their Gal. vi. >, dealing, orderly and quiet in their behaviour, court- Phil, iv. 8. eous and complaisant in their conversation, friendly epr® and charitable upon all occasions, apt to assist, to 7°" _ relieve, to comfort one another.
Tt tieth all relations more fastly and strongly, assureth and augmenteth all endearments, enforceth and establisheth all obligations by the firm bands of conscience; set aside which, no engagement can hold sure against temptations of interest or pleasure.
Much difference there is between performing these duties out of natural temper, fear of punishment, hope of temporal reward, selfish design, regard to eredit, or other the like principles, and the dis- charging them out of religious conscience: this alone will keep men tight, uniform, resolute, and stable ; whereas all other principles are loose and slippery, will soon be shaken and falter. —
In consequence to those practices springing from it, piety removeth oppression, violence, faction, dis- orders, and murmurings, out of the state; schisms and scandals out of the church; pride and haughti- ness, sloth and luxury, detraction and sycophantry, out of the court; corruption and partiality out of judicatures ; clamours and tumults out of the street; brawlings, grudges, and jealousies out of families; extortion and cozenage out of trade; strifes, emula- tions, slanderous backbitings, bitter and foul lan-
SERM.
hve
Proy. xiv.
34; XV. Lis
xx. 28; XXix. 143 vill. 15; xxix. 8.
7 8. XXXIV.
I ? et. iii, 10.
182 Lhe Profitableness of Godliness.
guage out of conversation: in all places, in all societies it produceth, it advanceth, it establisheth, order, peace, safety, prosperity, all that is good, all that is lovely or handsome, all that is convenient or pleasant for human society and common life. It is that which, as the Wise Man saith, Kwalteth a nation; it is that which H’stablisheth a throne.
It is indeed the best prop and guard that can be of government, and of the commonweal: for it settleth the body politic in a sound constitution of health, it firmly cementeth the parts thereof; it put- teth all things into a right order and steady course. It procureth mutual respect and affection between governors and subjects, whence ariseth safety, ease, and pleasure to both. It rendereth men truly good, (that is, just and honest, sober and considerate, modest and peaceable,) and thence apt, without any constraint or stir, to yield every one their due; not affected to needless change, nor disposed to raise any disturbance. It putteth men in good humour, and keepeth them in it; whence things pass smoothly and pleasantly. It cherisheth worth, and encou- rageth industry; whence virtue flourisheth, and wealth is increased; whence the occasions and means of disorder are stopped, the pretences for sedition and faction are cut off. In fine, it cer- tainly procureth the benediction of God, the source of all welfare and prosperity; whence, When it goeth well with the righteous, the city rejoiceth ; and, When the righteous are in authority, the people rejoice, saith the great politician Solomon.
It is therefore the concernment of all men, who as the Psalmist speaketh, Desire to live well, and would fain see good days; it is the special interest
The Profitableness of Godliness. 185
of great persons, (of the magistracy, the nobility, the gentry, of all persons that have any considerable interest in the world,) who would safely and sweetly enjoy their dignity, power, or wealth, by all means to protect and promote piety, as the best instru- ment of their security, and undisturbedly enjoying the accommodations of their state. “Tis in all re- spects their best wisdom and policy ; that which will as well preserve their outward state here, as satisfy their consciences within, and save their souls here- after. All the Machiavelian arts and tricks, all the sleights and fetches of worldly craft, do signify no- thing in comparison to this one plain and easy way of securing and furthering their interests.
If then it be a gross absurdity to desire the fruits, and not to take care of the root, not to cul- tivate the stock, whence they sprout; if every prince gladly would have his subjects loyal and obedient, every master would have his servants honest, dili- gent, and observant, every parent would have his children officious and grateful, every man would have his friend faithful and kind, every one would have those just and sincere with whom he doth negotiate or converse; if any one would choose to be related to such, and would esteem their relation a happiness; then consequently should every man in reason strive to further piety, from whence alone those good dispositions and practices do proceed.
II. Piety doth fit a man for all conditions, qualifying him to pass through them all with the best advantage, wisely, cheerfully, and safely; so as to incur no considerable harm or detriment by them.
Is a man prosperous, high, or wealthy in condi-
SERM. Vi
SERM. TV.
184 The Profitableness of Godliness.
tion? Piety guardeth him from all the mischiefs incident to that state, and disposeth him to enjoy the best advantages thereof. It keepeth him from being swelled and puffed up with vain conceit, from being transported with fond complacence or confi- dence therein; minding him, that it is purely the eift of God, that it absolutely dependeth on his dis- posal, so that it may soon be taken from him; and that he cannot otherwise than by humility, by gra- titude, by the good use of it, be secure to retain it; minding him also, that he shall assuredly be forced to render a strict account concerning the good management thereof. It preserveth him from being perverted or corrupted with the temptations to’ which that condition is most liable; from luxury, from sloth, from stupidity, from forgetfulness of God, and of himself; maintaining among the floods of plenty a sober and steady mind. It fenceth him from insolence, and fastuous contempt of others ; rendereth him civil, condescensive, kind and help- ful to those who are ina meaner state. It instruct- eth and inciteth him to apply his wealth and power to the best uses, to the service of God, to the benefit of his neighbour, for his own best reputa- tion, and most solid comfort, It is the right bal- last of prosperity, the only antidote for all the inconveniences of wealth; that which secureth, sweeteneth, and sanctifieth all other goods: without it all apparent goods are very noxious, or extremely dangerous; riches, power, honour, ease, pleasure, are SO many poisons, or so many snares, without it. Again, is a man poor and low in the world? Piety doth improve and sweeten even that state: it keep- eth his spirits up above dejection, desperation, and
The Profitableness of Godliness. 185
disconsolateness; it freeth him from all grievous SERM. solicitude and anxiety; shewing him, that although = he seemeth to have little, yet he may be assured
to want nothing, he having a certain succour and never-failing supply from God’s good providence ; that, notwithstanding the present straitness of his condition, or scantness of outward things, he hath
a title to goods infinitely more precious and more considerable. A pious man cannot but apprehend himself like the child of a most wealthy, kind, and careful father, who, although he hath yet nothing
in his own possession, or passing under his name,
yet is assured that he can never come into any want of what is needful to him: the Lord of all things (who hath all things in heaven and earth at
his disposal, who is infinitely tender of his children’s good, who doth incessantly watch over them) being
his gracious Father, how can he fear to be left des- titute, or not to be competently provided for, as is truly best for him ?
This is the difference between a pious and an impious man. Is the pious man in need? he hath then an invisible refuge to fly to, an invisible store to furnish him ; he hath somewhat beyond all pre- sent things to hope in, to comfort himself with : whereas the impious person hath nothing beside present appearances to support or solace himself by ; the which failing, down he sinketh into dejec- tion and despair. Is the good man in affliction ? he knoweth that it cometh not on him without God’s wise appointment, nor without good inten- tion toward him, for probation, exercise, and im- provement of his virtues, or for wholesome correc- tion of his bad dispositions; that it is only physic
SERM.
ve
186 The Profitableness of Godliness.
and discipline to him, which shall have a comfort- able issue; that it shall last no longer than it is expedient for him that it should: wherefore he patiently submitteth to it, and undergoeth it cheer- fully, with the same mind wherewith a patient swalloweth down an unsavoury potion, which he presumeth will conduce to his health*. Never, in- deed, hath any man enjoyed more real content, or hath been more truly satisfied, than good men have been in a seeming depth of adversity". What men ever upon earth have been more sorely afflicted, have underwent greater losses, disgraces, labours, troubles, distresses in any kind, than did the holy apostles? Yet did they most heartily rejoice, exult, and triumph in them all. Such a wondrous virtue hath piety to change all things into matter of con- solation and joy. No condition in effect can be evil or sad to a pious man: his very sorrows are pleasant, his infirmities are wholesome, his wants enrich him, his disgraces adorn him, his burdens ease him; his duties are privileges, his falls are the grounds of advancement, his very sins (as breeding contrition, humility, cireumspection, and vigilance) do better and profit him: whereas impiety doth spoil every condition, doth corrupt and embase all good things, doth embitter all the conveniences and comforts of life.
© Scimus enim amicos Dei ab amantissimo ac misericordissimo Patre Deo mala ista penalia recipere, et hee non ut peenam, seu vindictam iracundis, sed magis ut correctiones et medicamenta stultitize, et adjumenta virtutis, ut malleationes sive fabricationes, et tunsiones, sive ablutiones, et candidationes.—Guil. Par. de Sacram. (Opp. Tom. t. p. 414 £.]
4 "Exeivous pév yap éerexovduter 1 xapa ris paprupias, Kal 1} éAmis Tv ernyyeApevor, Kal 1 mpds tov Xpiordv ayarn, Kal TO Tvedpa Td
matpixdv.—Euseb. Eccl. Hist. vy. 1. Mart. Lugd. [Tom. 1. p. 204.]
The Profitableness of Godliness. 187
IIT. Piety doth virtually comprise within it aes all other profits, serving all the designs of them all: whatever kind of desirable good we can hope to find from any other profit, we may be assured to enjoy from it.
He that hath it is ipso facto vastly rich, is entitled to immense treasures of most precious wealth ; in comparison whereto all the gold and all the jewels in the world are mere baubles. He hath interest in God, and can call him his, who is the All, and in regard to whom all things existent are less than nothing. The infinite power and wis- dom of God belong to him, to be ever, upon all fit occasions, employed for his benefit. All the inestim- able treasures of heaven (a place infinitely more rich than the Indies) are his, after this moment of life, to have and to hold for ever: so that great reason had the Wise Man to say, that In the house Prov.xv.6. of the righteous is much treasure. Piety therefore is profitable, as immediately instating in wealth : and whereas the desired fruits of profit are chiefly these, honour, power, pleasure, safety, liberty, ease, opportunity of getting knowledge, means of benefiting others; all these, we shall see, do abundantly accrue from piety, and in truth only from it.
The pious man is in truth most honourable.
Inter homines pro summo est optimus, saith Seneca :
whom Solomon translateth thus; The righteous 7s prov. xii. more excellent than his neighbour. He is dignified **
by the most illustrious titles, a son of God, a friend
and favourite to the sovereign King of the world,
© Ep. xc. [4.] Kar dAjéevay 5S 6 ayabds povos tyuntéos.—Arist. Eth. [1v. 3. 20.]
SERM.
Prov. xii. 8.
Phil. iv.13.
Matt. xii. 29.
Luke xi. 21.
Eph. vi.12. Prov. xvi. 82; XXV.
28.
1 Johny. 4.
188 The Profitableness of Godliness.
an heir of heaven, a denizen of the Jerusalem above: titles far surpassing all those which worldly state doth assume. He is approved by the best and most infallible judgments, wherein true honour resideth. He is respected by God himself, by the holy angels, by the blessed saints, by all good and all wise persons; yea, commonly, by all men: for the effects of genuine piety are so venerable and amiable, that scarce any man can do otherwise than in his heart much esteem him that worketh them.
The pious man is also the most potent man: he hath a kind of omnipotency, because he can do whatever he will, that is, what he ought to do‘; and because the Divine Power is ever ready to assist him in his pious enterprises, so that He can do all things by Christ that strengtheneth him. He is able to combat and vanquish him that is ‘O icyupos, The stout and mighty one ; to wage war with happy success Against principalities and powers. He conquereth and commandeth himself, which is the bravest victory and noblest empire®: he quelleth fleshly lusts, subdueth inordinate passions, and repelleth strong temptations. He, By his faith, overcometh the world with a conquest far more glo- rious than ever any Alexander or Czesar could do. He, in fine, doth perform the most worthy exploits, and deserveth the most honourable triumphs that man can do,
‘ Tantum enim quantum vult potest, qui se, nisi quod debet, non putat posse.—Sen. Ep. xc. [4.]
5 Id. de Ben, v. 7.[3.] [Quem magis admiraberis, quam qui imperat sibi, quam qui se habet in potestate? Gentes facilius est
barbaras, impatientesque alieni arbitrii, regere, quam animum suum continere, et tradere sibi.]
The Profitableness of Godliness. 189
The pious man also doth enjoy the only true SEEM: pleasures ; hearty, pure, solid, durable pleasures ; such pleasures as those of which the divine Psalm- ist singeth: In thy presence is fulness of joy ; at thy Ps. xvi. rt. right hand there are pleasures for evermore. That All joy in believing, that Gavrety of hope, that inces- a xv. sant Rejoicing in the Lord, and Greatly delighting Hie, iii. 6. in his law, that continual feast of a good con- Ps. alte ; science, that Serving the Lord with gladness, that cis ie,”’ Exceeding gladness with God’s countenance, that -» Rie
Comfort of the Holy Spirit, that Joy unspeakable ©: eae and full of glory; the satisfaction resulting from Zs xxix. the contemplation of heavenly truth, from the icon sense of God’s favour, and the pardon of his sins, ote ae from the influence of God’s grace, from the hopes ;° Poa and anticipation of everlasting bliss; these are pleasures indeed, in comparison ee all other pleasures are no more than brutish sensualities, sordid impurities, superficial touches, transient flashes of delight: such as should be insipid and unsavoury to a rational appetite ; such as are tinc- tured with sourness and bitterness, have painful remorses or qualms consequent™. All the pious man’s performances of duty and of devotion are full of pure satisfaction and delight here, they shall be rewarded with perfect and endless joy hereafter.
As for safety, the pious man hath it most abso- lute and sure; he being guarded by Almighty
power and wisdom ; Resting under the shadow of Ps. xvii.8; 5.6.8.5 Alby — 2 Quid enim jucundius, quam Dei Patris et Domini reconcili-
atio, quam veritatis revelatio, quam errorum recognitio, quam tan- torum retro criminum venia? qu major voluptas, quam fastidium ipsius voluptatis, quam seculi totius contemptus, quam vera liber- tas, quam conscientia integra, quam vita sufficiens, quam mortis timor nullus ?—Tert. de Spectac. cap. xxix. [Opp. p. 84 ¢.]
190 Lhe Profitableness of Godliness.
SEEM God’s wings; God Upholding him with his hand, Ordering his steps, 80 that none of them shall slide, ‘Mit Holding his soul in life, and suffering not his feet
i. 43 XCl.
+xxxvl. to be moved; he being, by the grace and mercy of
243 CXIx.
1173 God, secured from the assaults and impressions of
XXXVil. 23,
31; exix. all enemies, from sin and euilt, from the Devil,
1333 Je ce world, and flesh, from death and hell, which are our most formidable, and in effect only dangerous enemies.
As for liberty, the pious man most entirely and truly doth enjoy that; he alone is free from captiv- ity to that cruel tyrant Satan, from the miserable slavery to sin, from the grievous dominion of lust and passion. He can do what he pleaseth, having a mind to do only what is good and fit. The law
Jamesi. he observeth is worthily called The perfect law of
= liberty; the Lord he serveth pretendeth only to
John xv. command freemen’ and friends: Ye are my friends,
ao aad he, of ye do whatever I command you ; and, If the Son set you free, then are ye free indeed.
And for ease, it is he only that knoweth it; having his mind exempted from the distraction of care, from disorder of passion, from anguish of con- science, from the drudgeries and troubles of the world, from the vexations and disquiets which sin produceth. He findeth it made good to him,
Matt. xi. which our Lord inviting him did promise, Come 28. unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and L will give you rest: he feeleth the truth of those Isai. xxvii divine assertions, Thou wilt keep him in perfect
3: . . Ps. exix. peace, whose mind is stayed on thee; and, Great 165.
Od ydp dori, od Corw edevbepos, GAN’ # pdvos 6 Xpiord (ov.—
Chrys. ad Theod. [Orat. 1. Opp. Tom. v1. p. 59.]
The Profitableness of Godliness. 191
peace have they which love thy law, and nothing SEEM shall offend them.
As for knowledge, the pious man alone doth attain it considerably, so as to become truly wise and learned to purpose. vil men, saith the Wise Prov. _ Man himself, who knew well, understand not judg- : ment: but they that seek the Lord understand all things. It is the pious man that employeth his mind upon the most proper and worthy objects, that knoweth things which certainly best deserve to be known, that hath his soul enriched with the choicest notions; he skilleth to aim at the best ends, and to compass them by the fittest means; he can assign to each thing its due worth and value ; he can prosecute things by the best methods, and order his affairs in the best manner: so that he is sure not to be defeated or disap- pointed in his endeavours, nor to mispend his care and pains, without answerable fruit. He hath the best master to instruct him in his studies, and the best rules to direct him in his proceedings: he can- not be mistaken, seeing in his judgment and choice of things he conspireth with infallible wisdom. Therefore ‘O evceBav axpws pirocoper, The pious man is the exquisite philosopher*. The fear of the Jov xxviii. Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil is cant i understanding. The fear of the Lord (as is said 32 7: io: again and again in scripture) is the head (or top) of ae Be wisdom. A good understanding have all they that 13°. keep his commandments.
Further: the pious man is enabled and disposed (hath the power and the heart) most to benefit and
* Herm. Trismeg. [Stob. Eclog. Lib. 1. cap. xxxy. §1. Tom. 1. p- 273. Ed. Gaisford.]
192 The Profitableness of Godliness.
SERM. oblige others. He doth it by his succour and IV. ae : : assistance, by his instruction and advice, which he is ever ready to yield to any man upon fit occa- sion: he doth it by the direction and encourage- ment of his good example: he doth it by his con- stant and earnest prayers for all men: he doth it by drawing down blessings from heaven on the place where he resideth. He is upon all accounts the most true, the most common benefactor to mankind; all his neighbours, his country, the world are in some way or other obliged to him: at least, he doth all the good he can, and in wish doth benefit all men.
Thus all the fruits and consequences of profit, the which engage men so eagerly to pursue it, do in the best kind and highest degree result from piety, and indeed only from it. All the philosophi- cal bravados concerning a wise man being only rich, only honourable, only happy, only above for- tune, are verified in the pious man: to him alone, as such, with a sure foundation, without vanity, with evident reason, those aphorisms may be ap- plied. They are paradoxes and fictions abstracting from religion, or considering men only under the light and power of nature: but supposing our reli- gion true, a good Christian soberly, without arro- gance, in proportion and according to the measure of his piety, may assume them to himself, as the
Phil. iv. holy apostle did: I possess all things, I can do all lat things, he may in a sort say after St Paul.
As for all other profits, secluding it, they are but imaginary and counterfeit, mere shadows and illusions, yielding only painted shows instead of substantial fruit’,
' Sen. Ep. urx.
The Projfitableness of Godliness. 193
If from bare worldly wealth (that which usurp- eth the name of profit here) a man seeketh honour, he is deluded, for he is not thereby truly honour- able; he is but a shining earth-worm, a well-trapped ass, a gaudy statue, a theatrical grandee; with God, who judgeth most rightly, he is mean and despica- ble: no intelligent person can inwardly respect him. Even here, in this world of fallacy and dotage, the wisest and soberest men, whose judgment usually doth sway that of others, cannot but contemn him, as master of no real good, nor fit for any good purpose; as seeing that in the end he will prove most beggarly and wretched.
If a man affecteth power thence, he is grievously mistaken: for, instead thereof, he proveth exceed- ingly feeble and impotent, able to perform nothing worthy a man, subject to fond humours and pas- sions, servant to divers lusts and pleasures, Capti- vated by the Devil at lis pleasure, overborne by temptation, hurried by the stream of the world, and liable to the strokes of fortune.
If he propoundeth to himself thence the enjoy- ment of pleasure, he will also much fail therein: for in lieu thereof he shall find care and trouble, sur- feiting and disease, wearisome fastidiousness and bitter regret; being void of all true delight in his mind, satisfaction in his conscience; nothing here being able to furnish solid and stable pleasure.
If he fancieth safety, he deludeth himself: for how can he be safe, who is destitute of God’s pro- tection and succour; who is the object of divine wrath and vengeance ; who is assailed by many fierce and powerful enemies; whom the roaring lion is ready to devour; whom death and Sudden
B.S. VOL. I. 13
SERM. Ve
2 Tim. ii.
26,
1 Thess. v. 2a.
Prov. x.29.
SERM.
Prov. xxv. 28.
Tsai. lvii. 20.
2 Tim. iii. 15.
194 The Profitableness of Godliness.
destruction are coming to seize upon; whom guilt threateneth, and hell gapeth for; who without any guard or fence standeth exposed to such imminent, such horrid and ghastly dangers?
If he thirst for liberty, he will be frustrated: for he can be no otherwise than a slave, while he con- tinueth impious; Servus tot dominorum, quot vitio- rum™, A slave to so many masters as he keepeth vices: a slave to himself and his own lusts: carry- ing about with him the fetters of unsatiable desire, being hampered with inconsistent and irregular affections.
Ease he cannot obtain, being oppressed with unwieldy burdens of sin, of care, of trouble; being tossed with restless agitations of lust and passion ; being Like the troubled sea, which cannot rest, whose waters cast wp mire and dirt.
If he meaneth to get wisdom, he is out: for wisdom and impiety are incompatible things. All his knowledge is vain, all his speculations are no better than dreams, seeing he erreth in the main point, and is not Wise to salvation.
He is, in fine, extremely mistaken, and in all his projects will be lamentably disappointed, whoever fancieth any true profit without piety: he never can attain to be so much as wealthy; but drudge and plod what he can, must be a beggar, and a forlorn wretch. For how can he be any wise rich, who doth want all the best things, the only valuable things in the world, which any man may have, which any good man doth possess? How can he be rich, who is destitute of the most needful accom- modations of life; who constantly feedeth on the
™ Aug. [de Ciy. Dei, 1v. 3. Opp. Tom. vu. col. 90 ¥.]
The Profitableness of Godliness. 195
coarsest and most sordid fare, (the dust of pelf, the cae dung of sensuality;) who hath no faithful or con- stant friends, (nothing earthly can be such;) who
is master of nothing but dirt, or chaff, or smoke? Whereas also riches do consist, not in what one enjoyeth at present, (for that can be little,) but in
a presumed ability to enjoy afterward what he may
come to need or desire; or in well-grounded hopes
that he shall never fall into want or distress. How
can that man be rich, who hath not any confidence
in God, any interest in him, any reason to expect
his blessing? yea, who hath much ground to fear
the displeasure of him, in whose hand all things
are, and who arbitrarily disposeth of all? Piety therefore is the only profitable thing, according to
Just esteem. She is more precious than rubies, and Prov. ii. all the things we can desire are not to be compared * to her. Upon this account it is most true, what the Psalmist affirmeth, A litile that the righteous hath is Ps. better than great riches of the ungodly.
IV. That commendation is not to be omitted, which is nearest at hand, and suggested by St Paul himself to back this assertion concerning the uni- versal profitableness of piety; For, saith he, it hath the promise of the life that now ts, and of that which as to come: that is, God hath promised to reward it with blessings appertaining to this mortal life, and with those which concern the future eternal state.
As for the blessings of this life, although God hath not promised to load the godly man with affluence of worldly things, not to put him into a splendid and pompous garb, not to dispense to him that which may serve for pampering the flesh, or gratifying wanton fancy, not to exempt him from
13—e2
XXxvll. 16.
196 The Profitableness of Godliness.
SERM. all the inconveniences to which human nature and this worldly state are subject; yet hath he promised to furnish him with whatever is needful or conve- nient for him, in due measure and season, the which he doth best understand. There is no good thing which a man naturally desireth, or reasonably can wish for, which is not in express terms proposed as a reward, or a result of piety. Prov. x. 6. In general, it is declared, that Blessings are upon xxviii. 8; the head of the just; that, No good thing God will Ps. iexiy, Withhold from them that walk uprightly; that, what- Eueles. viz, CVer Otherwise doth fall out, Jt assuredly shall be 12g, Well with them that fear God; that, Blessed is every Ps. exxviii. one that feareth the Lord, that walketh in his ways:— ae happy shalt thou be, and it shall be well with thee ; Prov. xii. that, There shall no evil happen to the just; that, Rom. vii, All things work together for good to them that love is God. Particularly, there are promised to the pious
man, Prov.x.3; A supply of all wants. The Lord will not suffer “-25- the soul of the righteous to famish. The righteous Ps.xxxiv. eateth to the satisfying of lis soul. There is no #1 want to them that fear God. The young lions do
lack, and suffer hunger ; but they that seek the Lord
shall not want an y good thing. Ps, xxiii. A protection in all dangers. The eye of the Lord oe 20; 1s upon them that fear him, upon them that hope in od Me mercy; to deliver ther soul from death, and to xci. 10, 11. keep them alive in famine. There shall no evil be-
fall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy
dwelling: He shail give his angels charge over thee,
to keep thee in all thy ways.
Guidance in all his undertakings and proceed-
The Profitableness of Godliness, 197
ings. The steps of a good man are ordered by the SERM.
Lord——none of his steps shall slide. In all
thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy 33%.” Prov. iii. 6.
P aths. Prov. xi. 3,
Success and prosperity in his designs. Comut §3 *¥i.3.. thy way unto the Lord; trust also in him, and he 5. shall bring i to pass. Whatsoever he doeth, tt Ps. i. 3. shall prosper. Thou shalt decree a thing, and Job xxii. it shall be established; and the light shall shine wpon ~ thy ways. The Lord shall command a blessing Dene upon thee in thy storehouses, and in all that thou settest thine hand unto. Thine expectation shall not Pas be cut off:
Comfortable ie the fruits of his indus- try. Thou shalt eat the labour of thine hands. oo
Satisfaction of all reasonable desires. The desire Prov.x. 24: of the righteous shall be granted. Delight thyself in Ps. xxxvii. the Lord, and he shall give thee the desires of thine * heart. He will fulfil the desire of them that fear cxv. 19. him: he will hear their cry, and will save them.
Firm peace and quiet. The work of righteous- Isai. xxxii. ness shall be peace; and the effect of righteousness, quietness and assurance for ever. Great peace have Pes exix. they which love thy law. The fruit of righteousness James ii. is sowed in peace. i
Joy and alacrity. Light is sown for the right- Ps. xevii eous, and gladness for the wpright in heart. In the Prov. xxix, transgression of an evil man there is a snare: but i the righteous doth sing and. rejoice.
Support and comfort in afflictions. He healeth Ps. exlvii. the broken in heart, and bindeth wp their wounds. ~ Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen 4 your } xxxi, heart, all ye that hope in the Lord. secik 1a)
Deliverance from trouble. Many are the afflic- Ps. xxxiv.
19, 20.
198 The Profitableness of Godliness.
SERM. tions of the righteous, but the Lord delivereth him out of them all. He keepeth all his bones, not one of them as broken.
Preservation and recovery from mishaps or mis- Ps. xxvii. carriages. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly ee cast down: for the Lord upholdeth him with his
hand.
Preferment of all sorts, to honour and dignity,
Ps. xxxvii. to wealth and prosperity. Wat upon the Lord, and =" keep his way; and he shall exalt thee to inherit the oe xxi. land. By humility and fear of the Lord are riches Bs exii. 1, and honour. Blessed is the man that feareth the Prov. Lord——wealth and riches are in his house. The yy T°: upright shall have good things in possession. If . they obey and serve him, they shall spend their days mm. im prosperity, and their years in pleasure. The 1. tabernacle of the righteous shall flourish. Eee Long life. The fear of the Lord protlongeth aS 216. days. By me thy days shall be multiplied, and the
years of thy life shall be increased. Let thine heart
keep my commandments: for length of days, and
long life, and peace, shall they add unto thee. Prov.x.7, A good name enduring after death. The memory ge of the just is blessed. Ps.xxxvii. Blessings entailed on posterity. His seed shall Fool ax be mig ghty upon earth ; the generation of the upright Chins ser ;, Shall be blessed. The root of the righteous shall not be moved.
Thus is a liberal dispensation even of temporal goods annexed by God’s infallible word unto the practice of piety. It is indeed more frequently, Deut. abundantly, and explicitly promised unto God’s &. ancient people, as being a conditional ingredient of
vii. 12; xi.
13. the covenant made with them, exhibited in that as
Ps, xxxvii.
39-
Prov. xi.
.
- The Profitableness of Godliness. 199
a recompense of their external performance of reli- SERM. gious works prescribed in their law. The Gospel doth not so clearly propound it, or so much insist upon it, as not principally belonging to the evan- gelical covenant, the which, in reward to the per- formance of its conditions by us, peculiarly doth offer blessings spiritual, and relating to the future 2 Cr. iv. state; as also scarce deserving to Be mentioned in Rom. viii, comparison to those superior ee Yet as the’ celestial benefits, although not openly tendered in
the Jewish law, were yet mystically couched therein,
and closely designed for the spiritual and hearty practisers of religion; so is the collation of temporal accommodations to be understood to belong to all
pious Christians: there is a codicil, as it were, an-
nexed to the New Testament, in which God signi-
fieth his intention to furnish his children with all
that is needful or convenient for them. His provi-
dence hath not ceased to watch over us, his bounty
doth not fail toward us even in this respect; his
care will not be wanting to feed us and clothe us comfortably, to protect us from evil, to prosper our
good undertakings. Hence doth he command us
to care for nothing, but To cast our care wpon him, x Pet. v. 7. to recommend our business to him, because he careth *"° for us; He will never forsake us; he will hear our Heb. xii. prayers, and help us. Hence we are enjoined Not Fratie oi. to trust im uncertain riches, but in the living God, *. ys who gweth us richly all things to enjoy. Hence it is '7-
said, that The divine power hath given us all things 2 Pet. i. 3. pertaining unto life and godliness, through the know-
ledge of him that hath called us to glory and virtue.
Hence it is promised by our Lord, that if we Seek ae vi.
200 The Profitableness of Godliness. SEEM. first the kin gdom of God, all things shall be added
to us. Hence it is inferred, as consequential to the nature of the evangelical dispensation, that we can- Rom. vii. not want any good thing; He, saith St Paul, that bs spared not his own Son, but delivered him up Sor us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things? In fine, hence it is proposed as noto- rious, that nothing is permitted to fall out other- Rom. vil. wise than as conduceth to our good. We know, saith St Paul, that all things work together for good 1Cor.x.13. unto those that love God: nor Will God, in any case, suffer us to be tempted, by any want or pressure, beyond what we are able to bear. Thus is piety evidently profitable, as having the promises of this’ life, or exhibiting all temporal blessings desirable
to the practisers thereof. But infinitely more profitable it is, as having the promises of the future life, or as procuring a title to those incomparably more excellent blessings rahe ‘of the other world; those indefectible treasures, i'Pet. i. 4. that Incorruptible, undefiled, and never-fading in-
2 Cor. iv.
7 heritance, reserved in heaven for us; that Haceeding i au 83 weight of glory; those ineffable joys of paradise, that
lightsome countenance and beatifying presence of God ; that unconceivably and unexpressibly joyful, glorious, perfect, and endless bliss; briefly, all that is comprised and intimated in those words of the
1 Cor. ii.9. apostle, Hye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. Infi- nitely profitable surely must that be, which pro- cureth those things for us: and in these respects great reason had St Paul to say, that Godliness is profitable for all things.
The Profitableness of Godliness. 201
But further to evidence and recommend this SERM. point, I might propound certain peculiar advan- a tages arising from piety, which have a very general influence upon our lives, and do afford unto them exceeding benefit: but this I must, in regard to the time and your patience, at present forbear.
SERMON V.
THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS.
Pmt V8. But godliness is profitable for all things.
etl ie discoursing formerly upon these words, I did
propound divers general considerations, serving to confirm and recommend this assertion of St Paul. IT shall now insist upon some others more particular, which yet seem much conducible to the same pur- pose, declaring the vast utility of religion or piety.
I. We may consider, that religion doth pre- scribe the truest and best rules of action; thence enlightening our mind, and rectifying our practice in all matters and upon all occasions, so that, what- ever is performed according to it is done well and wisely, with a comely grace in regard to others, with a cheerful satisfaction in our own mind, with the best assurance, that things are here capable of, to find happy success and beneficial fruit.
Of all things in the world there is nothing more generally profitable than light: by it we con- verse with the world, and have all things set before us; by it we truly and easily discern things in their right magnitude, shape, and colour; by it we guide our steps safely in prosecution of what is good, and shunning what is noxious; by it our spirits are comfortably warmed and cheered, our life conse- quently, our health, our vigour, and activity are
The Profitableness of Godliness. 203
preserved. The like benefits doth religion, which SERM. is the light of our soul, yield to it. Pious men are Children of the light; pious works are works of Luke xvi. heht Shining before men. God’s word (or true Eph. v. 8. religion) 7s a lamp unto our feet, and a light unto s. ae our path; enabling us to perceive things, and judge o a nightly of them ; teaching us to walk straightly and }} eh a surely, without erring or stumbling; qualifying us Pha exix, to embrace what is useful, and to avoid hurtful ~ things; preserving our spiritual life, and disposing us to act well with a vigorous alacrity: without it a man is stark blind, and utterly benighted, gropeth fel in doubt, wandereth in mistake, trippeth upon all Job vy. 14. occasions, and often falleth into mischief. The path pies ae: of the just, saith the Wise Man, is as the shining rere: light. The way of the wicked 1s as darkness, they know not at what they stumble. Righteousness Prov. xiii. keepeth him that is upright in the way; but wicked-°’*”** ness overthroweth the sinner.
Again: it is a fair ornament of a man, and a erand convenience both to himself, and to others with whom he converseth or dealeth, to act regu- larly, uniformly, and consistently; freeing a man’s self from distraction and irresolution in his mind, from change and confusion in his proceedings; securing others from delusion and disappointment in their transactions with him. Even a bad rule constantly observed is therefore better than none?: order and perseverance in any way seemeth more convenient than roving and tossing about in uncer- tainties. But, secluding a regard to the precepts of religion, there can hardly be any sure or settled
* Via eunti aliquid extremum est; error immensus est.—Sen. Ep. xvi. [8.]
SERM. Ve
James i. 8.
».
204 The Profitableness of Godliness.
rule, which firmly can engage a man to, or effec- tually restrain a man from any thing.
There is scarce in nature any thing so wild, so untractable, so unintelligible, as a man who hath no bridle of conscience to guide or check him. A. pro- fane man is like a ship, without anchor to stay him, or rudder to steer him, or compass to guide him; so that he is tossed with any wind, and driven with any wave, none knoweth whither; whither bodily temper doth sway him, or passion doth hurry him, or interest doth pull him, or example leadeth him, or company inveigleth and haleth him, or humour transporteth him; whither any such variable and unaccountable causes determine him, or divers of them together distract him: whence he so rambleth and hovereth, that he can seldom himself tell what in any case he should do, nor can another guess it; so that you cannot at any time know where to find him, or how to deal with him: you cannot with reason ever rely upon him, so Unstable he is in all his ways. He is in effect a mere child, all humour and giddiness, somewhat worse than a beast, which, following the instinct of its nature, is constant and regular, and thence tractable; or at least so untract- able, that no man will be deceived in meddling with him. Nothing therefore can be more unmanly than such a person, nothing can be more unpleasant than to have to do with him».
But a pious man, being steadily governed by conscience, and a regard to certain principles, doth both understand himself and is intelligible to others:
» Nihil est enim tam occupatum, tam multiforme, tot ac tam variis affectibus concisum atque laceratum, quam mala mens. — Quint. xu. 1. [7.]
The Profitableness of Godliness. 205
he presently descrieth what in any case he is to do, and can render an account of his acting: you may know him clearly, and assuredly tell what he will do, and may therefore fully confide in him*.
What therefore law and government are to the public, things necessary to preserve the world in order, peace, and safety, (that men may know what to do, and distinguish what is their own,) that is piety to each man’s private state, and to ordinary conversation: it freeth a man’s own life from dis- order and distraction; it prompteth men how to behave themselves toward one another with security and confidence.
This it doth by confining our practice within settled bounds: but this advantage appeareth greater, considering that the rules which it pre- scribeth are the best that can be. Such they must needs be, as proceeding from infallible wisdom and immense goodness; being indeed no other than laws, which the all-wise and most gracious Lord and Maker of the world, out of tender kindness to his subjects and creatures, with especial regard to our welfare, hath been pleased to enact and de- clare. What of old he said to the Israelites con- cerning their laws, may with greater advantage be applied to those which should regulate our lives:
SERM. Vv.
And now, Israel, what doth the Lord thy God re- Deut. x.
quire of thee, but to fear the Lord thy God, to walk in all his ways, and to love him, and to serve the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy
°"Eott & 7 Totavtn 6udvora ev Tois emeckéowv* odroe yap Kat éav- Tois Guovoovat kal adAjAots, emt THY avTaY OvTES, WS EiTELY* THY TOLOLT@Y yap péever ta BovAnpara, kal ov perappel, Gomwep Evpuros.—Arist. Eth. 1x2) 64/3; |
12; BS.
SERM.
Neh. ix.13.
Rom. vii. 12.
206 The Projitableness of Godliness.
soul; to keep the commandments of the Lord, and his statutes, which I command thee this day for thy good? (For thy good; that was the design of their being commanded; thereto the observance of them did tend.) And that commendation, which by the Levites in Nehemiah is given to that, doth more clearly and fully agree to the Christian (general and perfect) institution; Zhou camest down from mount Sinai, and spakest with them from heaven, and gavest them right judgments, and true laws, good statutes and commandments. And, The law, saith the apostle Paul, zs holy; the commandment is holy, just, and good: as such it is recommended to us by its Author, so we Christians are by many ereat arguments assured that it is, and that it is such even our natural reason dictateth; so (as to the chief instances thereof) the most wise and sober men always have acknowledged, so the gene- ral consent doth avow, and so even common ex- perience doth attest. For, heartily to love and reverence the Maker of all things, who by every thing apparent before us demonstrateth himself incomprehensibly powerful, wise, and good, to be kind and charitable to our neighbours, to be just and faithful in our dealings, to be sober and
- modest in our minds, to be meek and gentle in our
demeanours, to be staunch and temperate in our enjoyments, and the like principal rules of duty, are such, that the common reason of men and continual experience do approve them as hugely conducible to the public good of men, and to each man’s private welfare. So notoriously beneficial they appear, that for the justification of them we might appeal even to the judgment and conscience
The Profitableness of Godliness. 207
of those persons, who are most concerned to dero- SERM. gate from them. For hardly can any man be so a senseless, or so lewd, as seriously to disapprove or condemn them, as inwardly to blame or slight those who truly act according to them. The will of men sometimes may be so depraved, that dissolute per- sons wantonly and heedlessly may scoff at and seem to disparage goodness ; that good men by very bad men for doing well may be envied and hated : (their being so treated is commonly an argument of the goodness of their persons and of their ways:) but the understanding of men can hardly be so cor- rupted, that piety, charity, justice, temperance, meek- ness, can in good earnest considerately by any man be disallowed, or that persons apparently practising them can be despised ; but rather, in spite of all contrary prejudice and disaffections, such things and such persons cannot but in judgment and heart be esteemed by all men. The lustre of them by a na- tural and necessary efficacy (like that of heaven's glorious light) dazzleth the sight and charmeth the spirits of all men living ; the beauty of them irre- sistibly conquereth and commandeth in the appre- hensions of men: the more they are observed, the more useful and needful they appear for the good of men ; all the fruits which grow from the observance of them being to all men’s taste very pleasant, to all men’s experience very wholesome. Indeed, all the good, whereby common life is adorned, is sweet- ened, is rendered pleasant and desirable, doth spring thence; all the mischiefs which infest particular men, and which disturb the world, palpably do arise from the transgression or neglect thereof.
If we look on a person sticking to those rules,
SERM. Vv.
208 The Projitableness of Godliness.
we shall perceive him to have a cheerful mind and composed passions, to be at peace within, and satis- fied with himself; to live in comely order, in good repute, in fair correspondence, and firm concord with his neighbours. If we mark what preserveth the body sound and lusty, what keepeth the mind vigorous and brisk, what saveth and improveth the estate, what upholdeth the good name, what guardeth and graceth a man’s whole life; it is nothing else but proceeding in our demeanour and dealings according to the honest and wise rules of piety. If we view a place where these commonly in good measure are observed, we shall discern, that peace and prosperity do flourish there; that all things proceed on sweetly and fairly; that men generally drive on conversation and commerce to- gether contentedly, delightfully, advantageously, yielding friendly advice and aid mutually, striving to render one another happy; that few clamours or complaints are heard there, few contentions or stirs do appear, few disasters or tragedies do occur; that such a place hath indeed much of the face, much of the substance of paradise. .
But if you mind a person who neglecteth them, you will find his mind galled with sore remorse, racked with anxious fears and doubts, agitated with storms of passion and lust, living in disorder and disgrace, jarring with others, and no less dissatis- fied with himself. If you observe what doth impair the health, doth weaken and fret the mind, doth waste the estate, doth blemish the reputation, doth expose the whole life to danger and trouble; what is it but thwarting these good rules? If you con- sider a place where these are much neglected, it
The Profitableness of Godliness. 209
will appear like a wilderness of savage beasts, or a SERM. sty of foul swine, or a hell of cursed fiends; full of roaring and tearing, of factions and feuds, of distractions and confusions, of pitiful objects, of doleful moans, of tragical events. Men are there wallowing in filth, wildly revelling, bickering and squabbling, defaming, circumventing, disturbing
and vexing one another; as if they affected nothing more than to render one another as miserable as they can. It is from lust and luxury, from am- bition and avarice, from envy and spite, and the
like dispositions, which religion chiefly doth inter- dict, that all such horrid mischiefs do spring.
In fine, the precepts of Religion are no other, than such as physicians would prescribe for the health of our bodies, as politicians would avow need- ful for the peace of the state, as Epicurean philo- sophers do recommend for the tranquillity of our mind, and pleasure of our lives; such as common reason dictateth, and daily trial sheweth conducible to our welfare in all respects: which consequently, were there no law exacting them of us, we should in wisdom choose to observe, and voluntarily im- pose on ourselves, confessing them to be fit matters of law, as most advantageous and requisite to the good (general and particular) of mankind. So that what Plutarch reporteth Solon to have said, that He had so squared his laws to the citizens, that all of them might clearly percewwe, that to observe them was more for their benefit and interest than to violate them‘, is far more true concerning the divine laws,
4 Plut. in Sol. [Kat rods vopous airds otras dppdterat rois TroXi- Tals, G@oTe Tat TOU TMapavopety BeAtiov emidetEac Td Sikatompayety.—
Opp. Tom. 1. p. 322. Ed. Reisk. ] B.S VOL. I. 14
210 The Profitableness of Godliness.
SERM. II. We may consider more particularly, that ‘__ piety yieldeth to the practiser all kind of interior content, peace, and joy; freeth him from all kinds of dissatisfaction, regret, and disquiet; which is an inestimably great advantage: for certainly the hap- piness and misery of men are wholly or chiefly seated and founded in the mind. If that is in a good state of health, rest, and cheerfulness, what- ever the person’s outward condition or circumstances be, he cannot be wretched: if that be distempered or disturbed, he cannot be happy. For what if a man seem very poor; if he be abundantly satisfied in his own possessions and enjoyments? What if he tasteth not the pleasures of sense; if he enjoyeth. purer and sweeter delights of mind? What if tem- pests of fortune surround him; if his mind be calm and serene? What if he have few or no friends; if he yet be throughly in peace and amity with him- self, and can delightfully converse with his own thoughts? What if men slight, censure, or revile him; if he doth value his own state, doth approve his own actions, doth acquit himself of blame in his own conscience? Such external contingencies can surely no more prejudice a man’s real happiness, than winds blustering abroad can harm or trouble him that abideth in a good room within doors, than storms and fluctuations at sea can molest him who standeth firm upon the shore. On the other hand, the greatest affluence of seeming goods will avail nothing, if real content of mind be wanting. For what will the highest eminence of outward state import to him that is dejected in his own conceit ? What if the world court and bless him, or if all people do admire and applaud him ; if he be dis-
The Profitableness of Godliness. 211
pleased with, if he condemneth, if he despiseth him-
SERM. Vv.
self? What if the weather look fair and bright ————
without, if storms rage in his breast, if black clouds do overcast his soul? What if he do abound with friends, and enjoy peace abroad; if he find dis- traction at home, and is at cruel variance with him- self? How can a man enjoy any satisfaction, or relish any pleasure, while sore remorse doth sting him, or solicitous doubts and fears do rack him‘?
Now that from the practice of religion, and from it alone, such inward content and pleasure do spring; that it only ministereth reason of content, and disposeth the mind to enjoy it; that it extir- pateth the grounds and roots of discontent; that it is the only mother of true, sober alacrity and tran- quillity of mind, will, upon considering things, be manifest.
There is no other thing here in this world that can yield any solid or stable content to our mind.
For all present enjoyments are transient and evanid; Prov.
and of any future thing, in this kingdom of change
XXVil. 2
r oe
and contingency, there can be no assurance. There Prov.
is nothing below large enough to fill our vast ca- pacities, or to satiate our boundless desires, or to appease our squeamish delicacy. There is nothing whose sweetness we do not presently exhaust and suck dry; whereof thence we do not soon grow weary, quite loathing, or faintly liking it. There is not any thing which is not slippery and fleeting; so that we can for a long time hope to possess it,
® EvOupiav yap kat xapay ovk adpyijs péyebos, od ypnudray trAO0s, ov Suvacteias Oykos, ovK icxis capatos, ov mohurédeva tparé{ns, odx ipatiov Kécpos, ovk GdAo Tt Tov avOpwrivayv Troteiv eiwbev, GAN jj
katépOapa pdvov mvevpatixoy, Kat guverdds ayabdv.—Chrys. in Rom.
Hom. 1. [Opp. Tom. 11. p. 9.] 142
<XVll. 20.
SERM. V.
Eccles. x. rie
Luke xii. 33- ;
re ete Aare Heb. xii. 28
212 The Profitableness of Godliness.
or for any time can enjoy it, without restless care in keeping it, and anxious fear of losing it. Nothing there is, in the pursuance, the custody, the defence and maintenance whereof we are not liable to dis- appointments, and crosses. Nothing consequently there is productive of any sound content to the fastidious, impatient, greedy, and restless heart of man. The greatest confluence of present, corporeal, secular things (of all the health, the riches, the dig- nity, the power, the friendships and dependencies, the wit, the learning and wisdom, the reputation and renown in this world) will not afford much of it: which yet is but an imaginary supposition; for in effect hardly do all such accommodations of life concur in any state. There is ever some dead fly in our box, which marreth our ointment; some adherent inconvenience, which soureth the gust of our enjoyments: there is always some good thing absent, which we do want or long for; some ill thing present, or in prospect, which we abhor, would avoid, do fear may come. If therefore we would find content, we must not seek it here; we must want it, or have it from another world: it must come hither from heaven, and thence only piety can fetch it down. ‘This, instead of these unsatis- fying, uncertain, and unstable things, supplieth us with goods adequate to our most outstretched wishes, infallibly sure, incessantly durable; An in- defectible treasure, Oncavpov avéxerrtov, An incor- ruptible inheritance, KXypovopiav apOaprov, An un- shakable kingdom, BaciXeiav acadevtov, a perfect and endless joy, capable to replenish the vastest heart: which he that hath a good title to, or a confident hope of, how can he be otherwise than extremely
The Profitableness of Godliness. 213
pleased, than fully content? It assureth the favour SERM. and friendship of God, of him that is absolute Lord and disposer of all things: the which he that hath, and confideth in, what can he want or wish more ? what can he fear? what can annoy or dismay him? what can hap to him worthy to be deemed evil or sad? What is poverty to him, for whom God is concerned to provide? What is disgrace to him, that hath the regard and approbation of God? What is danger to him, whom God continually protecteth ? What can any distress work on him, whom God doth comfort, and will relieve? What is any thing to him, who is sensible that all things are purposely disposed to him by that wisdom which perfectly knoweth what is best; by that goodness which en- tirely loveth him? In fine, he that is conscious to himself of being well-affected in mind, and acting the best way, who is satisfied in the state of his soul, secure from God’s displeasure, and hopeful of his favour, what can make any grievous impression on him? What other affections than such as are most grateful and pleasant can lodge in his soul? Joy and peace have natural seeds in such a mind, and necessarily must spring up there; in proportion, I mean, and according to the degrees of piety resident therein.
The Epicureans did conceit and boast, that hav- ing by their atheistical explications of natural ef- fects, and common events here, discarded the belief and dread of religion, they had laid a strong foun- dation for tranquillity of mind, had driven away all the causes of grief and fear, so that nothing then remained troublesome or terrible unto us; and con- sequently, what, said they, could forbid, but that
214 The Projfitableness of Godliness.
SERM. we should be entirely contented, glad and happy? —Nos exequat victoria calo‘; no God then surely could be more happy than we. But their attempt in many respects was vain and lame. They presumed of a victory which it is impossible to ob- tain: and supposing they had got it, their triumph would not have been so glorious, their success would not have been so great, as they pretended. For seeing no Epicurean discourse can baffle the potent arguments which persuade Religion; (those argu- ments, which the visible constitution of nature, the current tradition of all ages, the general consent of men, the pregnant attestations of history and ex- perience concerning supernatural and miraculous events, do afford;) since the being and providence of God have proofs so clear and valid, that no sub- tlety of man can so far evade them, as not to be shaken with them, as wholly to be freed from doubt and suspicion of their truth; since there can be no means of evincing the negative part in those ques- tions to be true or probable; it is impossible that any considering man, in this cause against religion, should suppose himself to have acquired an absolute and secure victory, or that he should reap substan- tial fruit of comfort thence. It cannot be that any man should enjoy any perfect quiet, without acting so as to get some good hope of avoiding those dread- ful mischiefs, which religion threateneth to the trans- eressors of its precepts. Were there indeed but rea- son enough to stir, if not to stagger, an infidel; were it somewhat dubious whether, yea, were it great odds that there are not reserved any punishments for impiety, as indeed there is, if not the perfectest
f (Lueret. 1. 80.]
The Profitableness of Godliness. 215
assurance imaginable, yet vast advantage on the SERM. contrary side; were there but any small reason for a judgment to come, as there are apparently very many and great ones; had most men conspired in denying Providence, as ever generally they have consented in avowing it; were there a pretence of miracles for establishing the mortality and impunity of souls, as there have been numberless strongly tes- tified by good witnesses and great events, to con- firm the opposite doctrines; did most wise and sober men judge in favour of irreligion, as commonly they ever did and still do otherwise; yet wisdom would require that men should choose to be pious, since otherwise no man can be throughly secure. It isa wildness, not to dread the least possibility of incur- ring such horrible mischiefs: any hazard of such importance cannot but startle a man in his wits. To be in the least obnoxious to eternal torments, if men would think upon it as men, (that is, as rational and provident creatures,) could not but disturb them. And indeed so it is in experience; for what- ever they say, or seem, all atheists and profane men are inwardly suspicious and fearful; they care not to die, and would gladly escape the trial of what shall follow death. But let us grant or imagine the Epicurean successful as he could wish in this enter- prize of subduing religion: yet except therewith he can also trample down reason, new mould hu- man nature, subjugate all natural appetites and pas- sions, alter the state of thmgs here, and transform the world, he will yet in the greatest part fail of his conceited advantages; very short he will fall of tri- umphing in a contented and quiet mind. That which accrueth thence will at most be no more than
216 The Profitableness of Godliness.
SERM. some negative content, or a partial indolency, aris- ——ing from his being rescued from some particular cares and fears ; which exceedeth not the tranquillity of a beast, or the stupidity of one that is out of his senses: that is all he can claim, which yet is more than he can ever compass. For he cannot be as a beast, or a mere sot, if he would: reason, reflecting on present evils, and boding others future, will af- flict him; his own unsatiable desires, unavoidable fears, and untameable passions, will disquiet him. Were the other world quite out of his faith, or his thought, yet this world would yield trouble suffi- cient to render him void of any steady rest or solid _ joy. All men ever have, and ever will complain, that the burdens, crosses, satieties of this life, do much surpass the conveniences and comforts of it. So that, were no other to be expected or feared, this of itself would become grievous and nauseous ; we should soon have enough or too much of it, with- out a support and supply from otherwhere. In the largest affluence of things, in the deepest calm of our state, we are apt to nauseate, and are weary even of our prosperity itself; the which indeed com- monly hath ingredients not only somewhat unsa- voury, but very bitter and loathsome. We may add, that had those profane attempters quite ban- ished religion, they with it must have driven away all the benefits and comforts of it: which, even sup- posing them but imaginary, are yet the greatest which common life doth need or can desire: with it they would send packing justice, fidelity, charity, sobriety, and all solid virtue, things which cannot
® Ut vera tibi similitudine id de quo queror exprimam, non tempestate vexor, sed nausea. —Sen. de Tranq. An. 1. [12.]
The Profitableness of Godliness. 7
firmly subsist without conscience: which being gone, a human life would be the most disorderly, most un- safe, most wretched and contemptible thing that can be; nothing but insipid and flashy sensualities would be left behind to comfort a man with; and those hardly any man (by reason of competitions and contentions for them, nowise restrainable) could enjoy quietly or safely. It is therefore piety alone, which, by raising hopes of blessings and joys in- comparably superior to any here that cannot be taken from us, can lay any ground of true content, of substantial and positive content; such as con- sisteth not only in removing the objects and causes of vexatious passions, but in employing the most pleasant affections (love, hope, joy) with a delightful complacence upon their proper and most noble ob- jects. The kingdom of God (and that only, no other aa xiv. kingdom hath that privilege) consisteth in 17 ighteous- ness (first, then in) peace and spiritual joy. No philosopher, with truth and reason, can make that overture to us which our Lord doth; Come unto me Matt. xi. all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and ye shall find rest to your souls. Out of Religion, there can be no aphorism pretended, like to that of the prophet, Thou shalt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is ee xvi, stayed on thee.
If indeed we distinctly survey all the precal and sources of content, it will appear that Religion only can afford it.
Doth it result from a well governing and order- ing our passions? Then it is plain, that only a pious man is capable thereof; for piety only can effect that: it alone, with the powerful aid of Divine grace, doth guide our passions by exact
SERM. av.
Tsai. xlviii. 22; lvii. 20.
Acts xxiv. 16.
218 The Profitableness of Godliness.
rules, doth set them upon worthy objects, doth temper and tune them in just harmony, doth sea- sonably curb and check them, doth rightly correct and reform them.
This no bare reason (which naturally is so dim and so feeble in man) can achieve: much less can unreasonableness do it, which is ever prevalent in irreligious persons. Their passions do ever run wildly and at random, in no good pace, within no good compass, toward the meanest and _ basest objects ; whence they can have no rest or quiet in their minds". As they are constantly offending, so will they ever be punishing themselves, with intes-_ tine broils and conflicts, with dissatisfactions and regrets’. Hence, Zhere is no peace to the wicked. Fe is like the troubled sea, which cannot rest. God (as St Austin speaketh) hath said it, and so tt ts, every mordinate mind is a punishment to itself*.
Doth content spring from a hearty approbation of, or a complacence in a man’s own actions'; from reflection that he constantly doth act according to reason and wisdom, to justice and duty ? Then can the pious man alone pretend to it; who knoweth that he walketh Jnofensively toward God and man; that he consulteth his own best interest and welfare ; that assuredly no bad consequence can
® Mala mens—cum insidiatur, spe, curis, labore distringitur ; et jam cum sceleris compos fuerit, solicitudine, poenitentia, peena- rum omnium exspectatione torquetur.—Quint. xm. 1. [7.]
' Nec ulla major pcena nequitie est, quam quod sibi ac suis displicet.—Sen. Ep. xu. [2.]
Tywpia ddikias dxédovdos.—Plat. de Leg. vy. [728 c.]
* Jussisti enim, et sic est, ut poena sua sibi sit omnis inordina- tus animus.—Conf. [Lib. I. cap. xii. Opp. Tom. 1. col. 77 A.]
' Nisi sapienti sua non placent: omnis stultitia laborat fastidio sui —Sen. Ep. rx. [19.]
The Profitableness of Godliness. 219
attend his unblameable behaviour ; that most wise SERM. men have declared their approbation of his pro- ceedings ; that if he prove in his chief design mis- taken, yet no mischief can thence befall him ; yea, that he is not thereby quite disappointed, seeing even much present satisfaction and convenience do arise up to him from his practice.
Doth content grow from a sound and healthful constitution of soul? It is the pious man alone that hath that, whose mind is clear from distem- pers of vice and passion. The impious man is infirm, out of order, full of disease and pain, ac- cording to the prophet’s description of him ;—The Isai. i. 5,6. whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint: from the sole of the foot even unto the head there is no soundness in it; but wounds, and bruises, and putrifying sores.
Doth content arise specially from good success in our attempts, or from prosperous events befall- ing us? Then it is the pious man who is most capable thereof: for he only is secure, that what seemeth good and prosperous is really such to him, as meant for his good by the Divine goodness, as tending thereto by the guidance of infallible wis- dom. As he only hath ground to hope for success, because he confideth in God, because he dutifully seeketh God’s help, because God is favourably dis- posed toward him, because God ordereth his steps, _ xxxvii, because God is by promise engaged to bless him, * because he is conscious of intentions to render God thanks and praise for it, to employ his success to God’s honour and service: so he only can be satisfied with the appearance of success, being able with assurance to say after St Paul, We know Rom. vii
SERM.
Proy. xii.
220 The Profitableness of Godliness.
that to those who love God all things co-operate for good.
Is security from danger, from trouble, from want, from all evil, a source or matter of content ? It certainly doth attend the pious man; God being his especial protector, his comforter, his purveyor. There shall no evil befall the just: There shall no
Ps.xci.10; plague come near his dwelling. God keepeth all
XXX1V. 20, 17:
his bones, not one of them vs broken. He delivereth
Prov.x.24. the righteous out of their troubles. The desire of
Ps, xxxiv.
g.
Ps. lxxiii. 26.
1 Tim. vi.
the righteous shall be granted. There is no want to them that fear God. So do the holy oracles assure us.
Doth contentedness spring from sufficiency, real or apprehended? This appertaineth peculiarly to the pious man : for, having God, the master of all, for his portion, he hath the richest estate that can be; he hath all that he can desire, he cannot but take himself to have enough. Hence Godliness with contentedness (Mer avrapxetas, with sufficiency) is, as St Paul saith, Topicmos peas, the great way of gaining. He saith it not, as supposing godli- ness and contentedness to be separable; but rather, as implying godliness therefore to be most gainful, because sufficiency and contentedness do ever at- tend it. In fine, if that saying of Seneca be true, that, If to any man the things he possesseth do not seem most anuple, although he be master of the whole world, he is yet miserable; then assuredly the pious man only can be happy ; for to him alone his possessions can seem the largest and best, such as there can be no possible accession to, or amend-
™ Si cui sua non videntur amplissima, licet tetius mundi domi- nus sit, tamen miser est.—Sen. Ep. 1x. [18.]
The Profitableness of Godliness. 221
ment of. For nothing can be greater or better than God, in whom nal hath a tea Gat propriety, whose infinite power and wisdom are engaged to do him the utmost good that he is capable of. And further,
III. Seeing we have mentioned happiness, or the Summum bonum, the utmost scope of human desire, we do add, that piety doth surely confer it. Happiness, whatever it be, hath certainly an essen- tial coherence with piety. These are reciprocal propositions, both of them infallibly true, He that is pious is happy; and, He that is happy is pious. No man doth undertake or prosecute any thing, which he doth not apprehend in some order or degree, conducing to that which all men under a confused notion regard and tend to, which they call happiness, the highest good, the chiefest desi- rable thing. But in their judgments about this thing, or the means of attaining it, as men dissent much ; so of necessity most of them must be mis- taken. Most, indeed, do aim and shoot at a mere shadow of profit, or at that which is very little con- siderable, and in comparison nothing at all; which little conduceth to the perfection of their nature, or the satisfaction of their desire. If they miss the mark, they are disappointed; if they hit it, they are no less, and in effect hit nothing. But what- ever this grand matter is, in whatever it consisteth, however it be procured; be it the possession and fruition of some special choice goods, or an aggre- gation and affluence of all goods; piety surely is the main ingredient and principal cause thereof. All other goods without it are insignificant and unuse- ful thereto ; and it cannot be wanting where piety
a
222 The Profitableness of Godliness.
SERM. is. Bea man never so rich, so powerful, so learned —— and knowing, so prosperous in his affairs, so honour- able in the opinions and affections of men: yet nowise happy can he be, if he is not pious; being
he wanteth the best goods, and is subject to the
worst evils; being he wanteth the love and favour
of God, he wanteth peace and satisfaction of con- science, he wanteth a right enjoyment of present
things, he wanteth security concerning his final welfare. Be he never so poor, so low in the eyes
of men, so forlorn and destitute of worldly conve- niences ; yet if he be pious, he cannot be wretched:
for he hath an interest in goods incomparably most precious, and is safe from all considerable evils; he
hath a free resort to the inexhaustible fountain of
all happiness, he hath a right to immense and endless felicity, the which eminently containeth
all the goods we are capable of; he is possessed thereof in hope and certain reversion, there is but
a moment to pass before his complete fruition of it.
The want of all other petty things no more can
maim the integrity of his felicity, than cutting the
hair, or paring the nails, do mutilate a man: all
other things are but superfluities or excrescences in
regard to the constitution of happiness. Whatever happeneth, that will assuredly be true, which is so Ps.exxviii. much imculeated in holy scripture. Blessed is every 1. one that feareth the Lord, that walketh in his ways ; happy shall he be, and it shall be well with him.
Matt.v. Piety 1s indeed fraught with beatitudes, every part thereof yieldeth peculiar blessedness. To the love of God, to charity toward our neighbour, to purity of heart, to meekness, to humility, to patience, to mercifulness, to peaceableness, beatitude is ascribed
The Profitableness of Godliness. 223
by our Lord, the great Judge and dispenser of it. SEERE Each religious performance hath happy fruits grow- ing from it, and blissful rewards assigned thereto. All pious dispositions are fountains of pleasant streams, which by their confluence do make up a full sea of felicity.
IV. Itisa peculiar advantage of piety, that it furnisheth employment fit for us, worthy of us, hugely grateful and highly beneficial to us. Man is a very busy and active creature, which cannot live and do nothing, whose thoughts are in rest- less motion, whose desires are ever stretching at somewhat, who perpetually will be working either good or evil to himself: wherefore greatly profitable must that thing be, which determineth him to act well, to spend his care and pain on that which is truly advantageous to him; and that is Religion only. It alone fasteneth our thoughts, affections, and endeavours upon occupations worthy the dignity of our nature, suiting the excellency of our natural capacities and endowments, tending to the perfection and advancement of our reason, to the enriching and ennobling of our souls. Secluding that, we have nothing in the world to study, to affect, to pursue, not very mean and below us, not very base and misbecoming us, as men of reason and judgment. What have we to do but to eat, drink, like horses or like swine; but to sport and play, like children or apes; but to bicker and scuffle about trifles and impertinences, like idiots ? what, but to scrape or scramble for useless pelf ; to hunt after empty shows and shadows of honour, or the vain fancies and dreams of men? what, but to wallow or bask in sordid pleasures, the which
224 The Profitableness of Godliness.
SERM soon degenerate into remorse and bitterness? To
which sort of employments were a man confined, what a pitiful thing would he be, and how incon- siderable were his life! Were a man designed only, like a fly, to buz about here for a time, suck- ing in the air, and licking the dew, then soon to vanish back into nothing, or to be transformed into worms; how sorry and despicable a thing were he! And such without Religion we should be. But it supplieth us with business of a most worthy nature and lofty importance; it setteth us upon doing things great and noble as can be; it en- gageth us to free our minds from all fond conceits, and cleanse our hearts from all corrupt affections ; to curb our brutish appetites, to tame our wild passions, to correct our perverse inclinations, to conform the dispositions of our soul and the actions of our life to the eternal laws of righteousness and goodness: it putteth us upon the imitation of God, and aiming at the resemblance of his perfections; upon obtaining a friendship and maintaining a cor- respondence with the High and Holy One ; upon fitting our minds for conversation and society with the wisest and purest spirits above; upon providing for an immortal state, upon the acquist of joy and glory everlasting. It employeth us in the divinest actions, of promoting virtue, of performing benefi- cence, of serving the public, and doing good to all: the beimg exercised in which things doth indeed render a man highly considerable, and his life ex- cellently valuable.
It is an employment most proper to us as rea- sonable men. For what more proper entertain- ments can our mind have, than to be purifying
The Profitableness of Godliness. 225
and beautifying itself, to be keeping itself and its SERM. subordinate faculties in order, to be attending upon the management of thoughts, of passions, ae words, of actions depending upon its governance ?
It is an employment most beneficial to us: in pursuing which we greatly better ourselves, and meliorate our condition; we benefit and oblige others ; we procure sound reputation and steady friendships; we decline many irksome mischiefs and annoyances; We do not, like those in the prophet, Isai. lv. 2. spend our labour for that which satisfieth not, nor spend our money for that which is not bread: for both temporal prosperity and eternal felicity are the wages of the labour which we take herein.
It is an employment most constant, never allowing sloth or listlessness to creep im, inces- santly busying all our faculties with earnest con- tention; according to that profession of St Paul, declaring the nature thereof, Herein always do I oasis exercise myself, to have a conscience void of offence toward God and toward man. Whence it is called a Fight, and a Race, implying the continual earn- x Tin ve estness of attention and activity, which is to be Heh aes spent thereon.
It is withal a sweet and grateful business: for it is a pious man’s character, that He delighteth Ps. exii. 1. greatly in God’s commandments; that The com- 1Jobnv.3. mandments are not grievous to him; that it is His ae iv. meat and drink to do God’s will; that God’s words ®%. exix. (or precepts) are sweeter than honey to his taste; ‘°* that The ways of religious wisdom are ways of Prov. iii. pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. Whereas '” all other employments are wearisome, and soon become loathsome; this, the further we proceed in
B.S. VOL. I. 15
226 The Profitableness of Godliness.
SERM. it, the more pleasant and satisfactory it groweth*. ___ There is perpetual matter of victory over bad incli- nations pestering us within, and strong temptations assailing us without: which to combat hath much delight: to master, breedeth unexpressible content. The sense also of God’s love, the influences of his grace and comfort communicated in the perform- ances of devotion and all duty, the satisfaction of good conscience, the assured hope of reward, the foretastes of future bliss, do season and sweeten all the labours taken, and all the difficulties under- gone therein.
In fine, the bare light of nature hath discerned, that were it not for such matters as these to spend - a man’s care and pains upon, this would be a lamentable world to live in. There was, for in- stance, an emperor great and mighty as ever did wield sceptre upon earth, whose excellent virtue, coupled with wisdom, (inferior, perhaps, to none that any man ever without special inspiration hath been endowed with,) did qualify him with most advantage to examine and rightly to judge of things here; who, notwithstanding all the con- veniences which his royal estate and well settled prosperity might afford, (the which surely he had fully tasted and tried,) did yet thus express his thoughts : Te poe Cav €v Kocnw kevo Oewv, 7 Tpovotas xevy ; What doth it concern me to live in a world void of God, or void of Providence’? To govern the greatest empire that ever was, in the deepest
" Non potest cuiquam semper idem placere, nisi rectum.— Sen. Ep. xx. [5.] Dedit enim hoe providentia hominibus munus, ut honesta ma-
gis juvarent.—Quint. 1. 12. [19.] ° M. Ant. mu. § 11. Cf. vr. § 10.
The Profitableness of Godliness. 227
calm; to enjoy the largest affluences of wealth, of SERM. splendour, of respect, of pleasure ; to be loved, to be dreaded, to be served, to be adored by so many nations; to have the whole civil word obsequious to his will and nod; all these things seemed vain and idle, not worthy of a man’s regard, affection, or choice, in case there were no God to worship, no providence to observe, no piety to be exercised. So little worth the while, common sense hath adjudged it to live without religion.
V. It isa considerable benefit of piety, that it affordeth the best friendships and sweetest society. Man is framed for society, and cannot live well without it?; many of his faculties would be useless, many of his appetites would rest unsatisfied in solitude. To have a friend wise and able, honest and good, unto whom upon all occasions we may have recourse for advice, for assistance, for conso- lation, is a great convenience of life’: and this benefit we owe to religion, which supplieth us with various friendships of the best kind, most beneficial 7 and most sweet unto us.
It maketh God our friend, a friend infinitely better than all friends, most affectionate and kind, most faithful and sure, most able, most willing, and ever most ready to perform all friendly offices, to yield advice in all our doubts, succour in all our needs, comfort in all our troubles, satisfaction to all our desires. Unto him it ministereth a free Prov.xii.2.
Ps. xxxiv.
address upon all occasions; with him it alloweth us 1;; xxxiii
P Nullius boni sine socio jucunda possessio est.—Sen. Ep. vt. [4]
4 Nam ut aliarum rerum nobis innata dulcedo est, sic amici- tie.—Id. Ep. 1x. [14.]
bs er
SERM.
18; exlv. 19 ; XXXVil. 28.
Job xxxvi. a
ie
Job v. 23.
Hos. ii. 18.
Tsai. xliii. 2.
Ps. cxxi. 6.
PaoxCls 13.
Mark xvi. 18.
Deut. XXVlli. 12.
228 The Profitableness of Godliness.
continually a most sweet and pleasant intercourse. The pious man hath always the all-wise God to counsel him, to guide his actions and order his steps; he hath the Almighty to protect, support, and relieve him; he hath the immense goodness to commiserate and comfort him; unto him he is not only encouraged, but obliged to resort in need: upon him he may, he ought to discharge all his cares and burdens. It consequently doth engage all creatures in the world to be our friends, or instruments of good to us, according to their several capacities, by the direction and disposal of God. All the servants of our great Friend will, in compliance to him, be ser- ~ viceable to us, Thou shalt be im league with the stones of the field, and the beasts of the field shall be at peace with thee: so Job’s friend promiseth him upon condition of piety. And God himself con- firmeth that promise; In that day, saith he in the prophet, will I make a covenant for them with the beasts of the field, and with the fowls of heaven, and with the creeping things of the ground. And again, When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burnt; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee. And, The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night. Thou shalt tread wpon the lion and adder, the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under foot. They shall take up scor- pions; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them: (so our Lord promised to his disei- ples.) Not only the heavens shall dispense their kindly influences, and the earth yield her plentiful
The Profitableness of Godliness. 229
stores, and all the elements discharge their natural SERM. and ordinary good offices; nor only the tame and aes sociable creatures shall upon this condition faith- fully serve us; but even the most wild, most fierce, most ravenous, most venomous creatures shall, if there be need, prove friendly and helpful, or at least harmless to us: as were the ravens to Elias, 1 Kings the lions to Daniel, the viper to St Paul, the fire” to the three children.
But especially piety doth procure the friendship Ps. xxxiv. of the good angels, that puissant host of glorious Heb. i 14. and happy spirits: they all do tenderly love the pious person; they are ever ready to serve and do him good, to protect him from danger, to aid him in his undertakings, to rescue him from mischiefs. What an honour, what a blessing is this, to have such an innumerable company of noble friends {the courtiers and favourites of heaven) deeply con- cerned and constantly vigilant for our welfare!
Tt also engageth the blessed saints in glory, The spirits of just men perfected, the church of the Heb. xii. first-born, to bear dearest affection to us, to further ** our prosperity with their good wishes and earnest prayers, mightily prevalent with God.
Jt rendereth all sorts of men our friends. To good men it uniteth us in holy communion; the communion of brotherly charity and hearty good- will, attended with all the good offices they are able to perform: to other men it reconcileth and endear- eth us; for that innocent and inoffensive, courteous and benign, charitable and beneficent demeanour, (such as piety doth require and produce,) are apt to conciliate respect and affection from the worst men.
SERM. We
Gal. vi. 10.
Proy. xvi.
i:
230 The Profitableness of Godliness.
For, Vincit malos pertinax bonitas'; men hardly can persist enemies to him whom they perceive to be their friend: and such the pious man in disposi- tion of mind, and in effect when occasion serveth, is toward all men‘; being sensible of his obligation to love all men, and, As he hath opportunity, to do good to all men. It assureth and more strictly endeareth our friends to us. For, as it maketh us hearty, faithful, constant friends to others; so it reciprocally tieth others to us in the like sincerity and fastness of good-will’.
It reconcileth enemies. For, When a man’s ways do please the Lord, he maketh his enemies to - be at peace with him. It hath a natural efficacy to that purpose, and Divine blessing promoteth it.
By it all conversation becometh tolerable, erateful, and useful. For a pious man is not easily disturbed with any crossness or perverseness, any infirmity or impertinency of those he converseth with: he can bear the weaknesses and the failings of his company; he can by wholesome reflections upon all occurrences advantage and please him- self".
In fine, piety rendereth a man a true friend and a good companion to himself*; satisfied in himself,
* Sen. de Benef. vir. [31.]
® Qui sibi amicus est, scito hunc amicum omnibus esse.—Sen. Ep. vi. [6.]
* “Opolws d€ Kat deis: Kai yap dwdds of dyabol Seis Kal ddAjAows.— Arist. Eth. vi. [3. 6.]
" Suvdiayew te 6 rovdros éavtr@ Bovderat- ndéws yap adrd srotet- TOY TE yap Tempaypévev emrepreis ai pvpuat, Kal TOV peAdOyTaV €A- mides ayabai.—Id. Eth. 1x. (4. 5.]
* Queris quid profecerim? amicus esse mihi coepi.—Sen. Ep. vi. [6.]
The Profitableness of Godliness. 231
able to converse freely and pleasantly with his own thoughts. It is for the want of pious inclinations and dispositions, that solitude (a thing which some- times cannot be avoided, which often should be embraced) is to most men so irksome and tedious, that men do carefully shun themselves, and fly from their own thoughts; that they decline all con- verse with their own souls, and hardly dare look upon their own hearts and consciences: whence they become aliens from home, wholly unacquaint- ed with themselves, most ignorant of their own nearest concernments, no faithful friends or plea- sant companions to themselves; so for refuge and ease they unseasonably run into idle or lewd con- versation, where they disorder and defile them- selves’. But the pious man is, like Scipio, Never less alone, than when alone’: his solitude and retire- ment is not only tolerable, but commonly the most grateful and fruitful part of his life: he can ever with much pleasure, and more advantage, con- verse with himself*; digesting and marshalling his
¥ Nemo est, cui non satius sit cum quolibet esse, quam secum. —Sen. Ep. [xx1v. 7.]
"Enot tov tov Biov, ds dreprécraroy Papa, mpoowdeiv ody tropé- vovow, &e.—Plut. wepi Hodump. Opp. Tom. u. p. 916. Ed. Steph.
Znrovow of poxOnpot pel dv cvvdmpepedcovor, éavrods dé dev- yovow.—Arist. Eth. rx. 4. [9.]
2 [Scipionem—dicere solitum, scripsit Cato nunquam se— minus solum quam cum solus esset.—Cic. de Off. 1m. 1.1. Rep. Ee ean
® Acquiescit sibi, cogitationibus suis traditus.—Sen. Ep. Ix. [13.]
Sapiens autem nunquam solus esse potest: habet secum omnes qui sunt, qui unquam fuerunt boni, et animum liberum quocunque vult transfert. Quod corpore non potest, cogitatione complectitur. Et si hominum inopia fuerit, loquitur cum Deo, Nunquam minus
SERM. Vi
SERM. Ws
232 The Profitableness of Godliness.
thoughts, his affections, his purposes into good
_ order; searching and discussing his heart, reflect-
ing on his past ways, enforcing his former good resolutions, and framing new ones; inquiring after edifying truths; stretching his meditations toward the best and sublimest objects, raising his hopes and warming his affections towards spiritual and heavenly things; asking himself pertinent ques- tions; and resolving incident doubts concerning his practice: in fine, conversing with his best friend in devotion; with admiration and love contemplating the divine perfections displayed in the works of nature, of providence, of grace; praising God for his excellent benefits and mercies; confessing his — defects and offences; deprecating wrath and in- ploring pardon, with grace and ability to amend; praying for the supply of all his wants. All which performances yield both unconceivable benefit and unexpressible comfort. So that solitude (that which is to common nature so offensive, to cor- rupt nature so abominable) is to the pious man extremely commodious and comfortable: which is a great advantage peculiar to piety, and the last which I shall mention.
So many, and many more than I can ex- press, vastly great and precious advantages do accrue from piety; so that well may we conclude with St Paul, that Godliness is profitable for all things.
It remaineth that, if we be wise, we should, if we yet have it not ingraffed in us, labour to ac-
solus erit, quam cum solus fuerit.—Hier. ady. Jovin. Lib. 1. [Opp. Tom. ty. pars ii. col. 190.)
The Profitableness of Godliness. 233
quire it; if we have it, that we should endeavour SERM. to improve it, by constant exercise, to the praise of — God, the good of our neighbour, and our own comfort. Which that we may effectually perform, Almighty God in mercy vouchsafe, by his grace, through Jesus Christ our Lord; to whom for ever
be all glory and praise. Amen.
SERMON VL.
THE REWARD OF HONOURING GOD.
big... al Be eee 0 For them that honour me I will honour. SERM. HE words are in the strictest sense the word
of God, uttered immediately by God him-
self ; and may thence command from us an especial — attention and regard. The history of that which occasioned them is, I presume, well known; neither shall I make any descant or reflection thereon ; but take the words separately, as a proposition of itself, affording a complete instruction and ample matter of discourse. And as such, they plainly imply two things: a duty required of us to honour God; and a reward proffered to us, upon performance of that duty, bemg honoured by God. It is natu- ral for us, before we are willing to undertake any work, to consider the reward or benefit accruing from it; and it is necessary, before we can perform any duty, to understand the nature thereof. To this our method of action I shall suit the method of my discourse; first endeavouring to estimate the reward, then to explain the duty. Afterward I mean to shew briefly why in reason the duty is enjoined ; how in effect the reward is conferred.
I. The reward may be considered either abso-
(* Ad Aulam. Aug. 1670. MS.]
ee
a
The Reward of honouring God. 235
lutely, (as what it is in itself ;) or relatively, (as to Ne
its rise, and whence it comes).
1 For itself, it is honour; a thing, if valued — according to the rate it bears in the common. market, of highest price among all the objects of human desire; the chief reward which the greatest actions and which the best actions do pretend unto, or are capable of; that which usually bears most sway in the hearts, and hath strongest influence upon the lives of men; the desire of obtaining and maintaining which doth commonly overbear other most potent inclinations. The love of pleasure stoops thereto: for men, to get or keep reputation, will decline the most pleasant enjoyments, will embrace the hardest pains. Yea, it often prevails over the love of life itself, which men do not only frequently expose to danger, but sometimes devote to certain loss, for its sake*. If we observe what is done in the world, we may discern it to be the source of most undertakings therein: that it not only moveth the wheels of public action, (that not only for it great princes contend, great armies march, great battles are fought;) but that from it
most private business derives its life and vigour: ,
* Even the sex which naturally is so tender and timor- ous hath afforded many instances, that life may be less dear than honour. What Cicero' somewhere professes to be his may seem to be the general sense of men, that nothing in life is desirable without it. MS.
1 Denique, cum omnia semper ad dignitatem retulissem, nec sine ea quidquam expetendum esse homini in vita putassem, mortem, quam etiam virgines Athenis, regis, opinor, Erecthei filiz, pro patria contempsisse dicun- tur, ego, vir consularis, tantis rebus gestis, timerem ?—Orat. pro Sext. [xxr. 48.]
|
SERM.
236 The Reward of honouring God.
that for honour especially the soldier undergoes hardship, toil, and hazard; the scholar plods and beats his brains; the merchant runs about so busily, and adventures so far; yea, that for its sake the meanest labourer and artificer doth spend his sweat, and stretch his sinews*. The principal drift of all this care and industry (the great rea- son of all this scuftling for power, this searching for knowledge, this scraping and scrambling for wealth)
* Riches themselves (procuring which may seem the im- mediate cause of all that care and industry employed in several ways) men chiefly (as Aristotle well observes) do ~ seek for honour’s sake that they may live in reputation; for necessity is served with a little, pleasure may be satisfied from a competence, abundance is required only to support honour ; take away credit from wealth, there will be no such scraping and scrambling for it; there was not so in Rome, when poor Fabricius, Curius and Quintius were capable of being consuls and dictators there: nor in Sparta for many hundred years, where the citizens (as Plutarch tells us) enjoyed much of ease and leisure to attend nobler employ- ments, because riches were not there at all invidious, or honourable. Yea, we daily see men to contemn or neglect riches, who can hope to procure respect some other way: by getting knowledge, or any other creditable endowments : the care and pains men expend upon which do commonly grow from this same root: for take away esteem from know- ledge, curiosity will soon languish and study expire. This is the reason Plato assigns, why the sciences did not flourish in Greece, in his times, because no city did then honour them ; and why in the ancienter times of the Roman state, picture, music, poetry, with other ingenious arts, were alto- gether unknown, Cicero could not give a better account, than because honour, which feedeth arts, and glory, which kindleth studies, were wanting. MS.
The Reward of honouring God. 237
doth seem to be, that men would live in some credit, would raise themselves above contempt”.
In such request, of such force, doth honour appear to be. If we examine why, we may find more than mere fashion (or mutual imitation and consent) to ground the experiment upon. There is one obvious reason why no mean regard should be had thereto: its great convenience and useful- ness: for that a man cannot himself live safely, quietly, or pleasantly, without some competent measure thereof ; cannot well serve the public, per- form offices of duty to his relations, of kindness to his friends, of charity to his neighbours, but under its protection, and with its aid: it being an engine very requisite for the managing any business, for the compassing any design, at least sweetly and smoothly; it procuring to us many furtherances in our proceedings, removing divers obstacles out of our way, guarding a man’s person from offences, adding weight to his words, putting an edge upon his endeavours: for every one allows a favourable ear to his discourse, lends an assisting hand to his attempts, grants a ready credence to his testimony,
> "T8018 8 dv Kat rév idiwrdy rods émetkeatarous tmep GAXov pev ovdevos dv To (Hv avtikataddagapevous, rep Sé Tov Tvxeiv Kadjs Sdéns, aroOyicKew €O€Xovras.—Isocr. Orat. ad Philip. [§ 135.]
Mors tum equissimo animo oppetitur, cum suis se landibus vita occidens consolari potest. —Cic. Tusc. Quest. [I. 45. 109.]
Laudis avidi pecuniz liberales erant, gloriam ingentem divitias honestas volebant; hane ardentissime dilexerunt, propter hance yivere voluerunt, pro hac et mori non dubitayerunt. Cveteras cupiditates hujus unius ingenti cupiditate presserunt.—-Aug. de Civ. Dei, v. 12. [Opp. Tom. vir. col. 126 F.]
Ai yap dvvacreiat kal 6 mAodros Sia THy Tiwyny eory aipera.—Arist. Eth. rv. 3. [18.]
Honos alit artes, omnesque incenduntur ad studia gloria, &c.— Cic. Tusc. Queest. 1. [2. 4.]
SERM. VI.
SERM.
VAL
238 The Reward of honouring God.
and makes a fair construction of his doings, whom he esteems and respects*. So is honour plainly valuable among the Bona utilia, as no small ac- commodation of life; and as such, reason approves it to our judgment’.
But, searching further, we shall find the appe- tite of honour to have a deeper ground, and that it is rooted even in our nature itself. For we may descry it budding forth in men’s first infancy, (be- fore the use of reason or speech ;) even little children being ambitious to be made much of’, maintaining
© Vide Hier. [Paulin.] Ep. ad Celant.
Conscientia tibi, fama proximo tuo. Qui fidens conscientize suse
negligit famam suam, crudelis est.—Aug. [Serm. cccniy. Opp. Tom. vy. col. 1380 B.}
Galen. [‘O yap rot tév todAGy avOpereayv erawvos eis pev xpeias Twas émirndecov Opyavoy evidre yiyvera.—De Method. Med. vu. 1. Opp. Tom. x. p. 457. Ed. Kiihn. ]
Nec vero negligenda fama est; nec mediocre telum nd res ge- rendas existimare oportet benevolentiam civium.—Cic. de Amic. [xvu. 61.]
Vide Chrys. Tom. vi. Orat. xvi.
4 Vidi ego et expertus sum zelantem parvulum, &c.—Aug. (Conf. 1. 7. Opp. Tom. 1. col. 73 p.]
* What hath been said of war (ama constant bella) may be said of all business, the success thereof much depends upon credit ; “tis not he that is really stronger, or wiser, or better, but he that is so reputed, who commonly in the con- duct of affairs hath the advantage. St Augustine observing this, how necessary reputation is, that a man may be able to do any good, or considerably to benefit others, says this: Seeing our fame is as necessary in respect to our neighbour, as our conscience is for ourselves, he, that confiding in his conscience, doth neglect his reputation, is uncharitable and cruel. MS.
The Reward of honouring God. 239
among themselves petty emulations and competi- SERM. tions, as it were about punctilios of honour. We may observe it growing with age, waxing bigger and stronger together with the increase of wit and knowledge, of civil culture and experience; that the maturest age doth most resent and relish it; that it prevails most in civilized nations; that men of the best parts, of the highest improvements, of the weightiest employments, do most zealously affect it and stand upon it; that they who most struggle with it do most feel its might, how difficult it is to resist and restrain it, how impossible it is to stifle or extinguish it. For the philosopher with all his reasons and considerations cannot dispute it down, or persuade it away; the anchoret cannot with all his austerities starve it, or by his retirement shun it: no affliction, no poverty, no wretchedness of condi- tion, can totally suppress it. It is a spirit that not only haunts our courts and palaces, but frequents our schools and cloisters, yea, creeps into cottages, into hospitals, into prisons, and even dogs men into deserts and solitudes®; so close it sticks to our na- ture. Plato saith, it is the last coat which a wise man doth put off. But I question whether he could shew us that wise man who had done it, or could tell us where he dwelt, except perhaps in his own Utopian republic. For they who most pretend to have done it (who in their discourse most vilify honour; who talk like Chrysippus‘, that a wise man for reputation sake will not so much as stretch out
® In solitudine cito subrepit superbia.—Hier. [ad Rusticum Mon. Ep. xcv. Opp. Tom, Vv. p. ii. p. 773.]
f Cic. de Fin. [m1.17.] [De bona autem fama... . Chrysippus et Diogenes, detracta utilitate, ne digitum quidem, ejus causa, por- rigendum esse dicebant. ]
SERM. Was
240 The Reward of honouring God.
his finger ; or like Seneca‘, that we should do every thing purely for conscience sake, without any re-
- gard to men’s opinion; who make harangues and
write volumes against glory) do yet appear by their practice, sometimes by so doing, to aim at it: even as men do usually complain of and eagerly quarrel with that which they most affect and woo. Chry- sippus wrote, as we are told, above 700 books", most of them concerning logical quirks, and such as one can hardly imagine what other drift he could have in composing them, besides ostentation of his sub- tilty and sharpness of wit. Seneca, if history do not wrong him, and the face of his actions do not
misrepresent him, was not in his heart exempt from ~
a spice of ambition, Yea, that excellent emperor M. Aurelius, who would often speak lke a Stoic, could not but commonly act like a man, more by his practice commending honour, than he disparaged it in his words. or story represents him very care- ful and jealous of his credit, very diligent to pre- serve it and to repair it’, Tertullian calls such phi- losophers Negotiatores fame“, Merchants for fame: and it is perchance some part of their cunning in their trade, which makes them strive to beat down
8 Nihil opinionis causa, omnia conscientiz faciam.—De Vit. B. {xx. 3.]
Nihil sit illi cum ambitione famaque: sibi placeat. Hoe ante omnia sibi quisque persuadeat, Me justum esse gratis oportet — Id. Ep. exit. [24.]
Id. de Ira, mr. [41. 2.]
" Diog. Laert. (in Chrys. vi. 7. 3. Tov dpibpov yap tmep WevTe Kal émtaxdata €orev. |
' Erat fame suze curiosissimus.
Male loquentium dictis, vel literis vel sermone respondebat.— Capitolinus |Hist. Aug. Script. p. 31 a., p. 32 a.]
* Tertull. Apol. [cap. xlvi. Opp. p. 36 c.]
ee eee
The Reward of honouring God. 241
the price of this commodity, that they may more SERM. easily engross it to themselves. However, expe- - rience proves that such words are but words, (words spoken out of affectation and pretence, rather than in good earnest and according to truth:) that endea- vours to banish or to extirpate this desire are but fond and fruitless attempts. The reason why is clear: for it is as if one should dispute against eat- ing and drinking, or should labour to free himself from hunger and thirst: the appetite of honour being indeed, as that of food, innate unto us, so as not to be quenched or smothered, except by some violent distemper or indisposition of mind'; even by the wise Author of our nature originally im- planted therein for very good ends and uses, re- specting both the private and public benefit of men; as an engagement to virtue, and a restraint | from vice; as an excitement of industry, an incen- tive of courage, a support of constancy in the pro- secution of worthy enterprises; as a serviceable instrument for the constitution, conservation, and ; improvement of human society*. For did not some
! Sed nimirum, ut quidam, morbo aliquo et sensus stupore, suavitatem cibi non sentiunt: sic libidinosi, avari, facinorosi, verse laudis gustum non habent.—Cic. Philipp. [1. 45.]
* For as men are made naturally to approve, and com- mend acts of justice, of goodness, of sobriety; to esteem and respect persons, whom they observe disposed to perform
) them ; so by a desire to obtain such approbation and esteem
| are men prompted and instigated to perform such acts, to
) acquire such dispositions. As general respect doth com-
monly attend those who are useful to society, or capable of
being so, (by their endowments of mind, or other accessory
enablements: by their skilfulness, their courage, their B.S. ¥OL..I. 16
SERM, Vile
242 The Reward of honouring God,
love of honour glow in men’s breasts, were that noble
_____ spark quite extinct, few men probably would study
for honourable qualities, or perform laudable deeds; there would be nothing to keep some men within bounds of modesty and decency, to deter them from doing odious and ugly things; men, not caring what
wealth,) so by the love of such respect men are rendered industrious in procuring to themselves such qualities and capacities. And because honour is nowhere to be obtained, but in society; and it is chiefly got by actions beneficial thereto, by an inclination thereto men are driven to embrace society, and induced to endeavour its welfare. So that in effect were this instinct wanting, few would do laudable deeds, or study for honourable qualities; most men would perhaps, if not altogether shun society, yet at least decline the cares and burdens necessary toward the promoting its good: for the sustaining which the chief recompense is usu- ally this of honour; common life would want most of its ornaments, much of its convenience; a barbarous sloth, a brutish stupidity would overspread the world; there being nothing to inflame men’s desire of worthy things, nothing to whet their courage in prosecution of them; nothing to sup- port their constancy in the encountering difficulties and dan- gers incident to gallant enterprises, nothing of that kind (nothing noble or brave) would be achieved or attempted. There would be then no such virtue as modesty, to keep men within bounds of honesty and decency, to restrain men from doing odious and ugly things. The best examples would become idle shows, looked upon unconcernedly with- out any influence or effect. The judgments of wise and good men about what is just and fit to be done would pass for empty speculations; men not caring what others think of them, would not regard what they do themselves ; that would happen in extremity, which experience shews us to be now in degree, that the most shameless men do the most shame- ful things. MS.
The Reward of honouring God. 243
others thought of them, would not regard what SERM. they did themselves"; a barbarous sloth or brutish — stupidity would overspread the world, withdrawing from common life most of its ornaments, much of its convenience; men generally would, if not alto- gether, shun society, yet at least decline the cares and burdens requisite to the promoting its welfare, for the sustaining which usually the chief encour- agement, the main recompense, is this of honour. That men therefore have so tender and delicate a sense of their reputation (so that touching it is like pricking a nerve, as soon felt, and as smartly offen- sive) is an excellent provision in nature; in regard whereto honour may pass among the Bona natu- ralia, as a good necessary for the satisfaction of nature, and for securing the accomplishment of its best designs.
A moderate regard to honour is also commend- able as an instance of humanity or good-will to men, yea, as an argument of humility, or a sober conceit of ourselves. or to desire another man’s esteem, and consequently his love, (which in some kind or degree is an inseparable companion of esteem,) doth imply somewhat of reciprocal esteem and affection toward him ; and to prize the judg- ment of other men concerning us, doth signify that we are not oversatisfied with our own.
We might for its further commendation allege the authority of the more cool and candid sort of philosophers, (such as grounded their judgment of things upon notions agreeable to common sense and experience ; who adapted their rules of prac-
™ Aidds & oixouevn, mavTev yevereipa kakiotov.—Greg. Naz.
(Carm. ad Olymp. Opp. Tom. 1. p. 1066. ] 16—e
SERM.
244 Lhe Reward of honouring God.
tice to the nature of man, such as they found it in the world, not such as they framed it in their own fancies,) who have ranked honour among the prin- cipal of things desirable, and adorned it with fair- est elogies ; terming it a divine thing", the best of exterior goods®, the most honest fruit and most ample reward of true virtue; adjudging, that to neglect the opinions of men (especially of persons worthy and laudable) is a sign of stupid baseness, that to contemn them is an effect of unreasonable haughtiness? ; representing the love of honour (rightly grounded and duly moderated) not only as the parent and guardian (as productive and pre- servative) of other virtues, but as a virtue itself; of no small magnitude and lustre in the constella- tion of virtues, the virtue of generosity’. A virtue, which, next to the spirit of true Religion, (next to a hearty reverence toward the supreme, blessed goodness, and that holy charity toward men which springeth thence,) doth lift a man up nearest to heaven; doth raise his mind above the sordid desires, the sorry cares, the fond humours, the perverse and froward passions, with which men commonly are possessed and acted: that virtue,
™ Gciov yap ayabdy mov tyun.—Plat. [de Leg. v. 727 A.]
Kadov tais mohAais médeot TO Tapakédevpa €oTL, MpoTimay Try evdokiay mpos tov modd@v.—Id. [de Leg. xu. 950 c.]
° Towodrov & 4 Tin. péyerrov yap 81 TovTo Tay exrds dyabav.— Arist. Eth. rv. 3. [10.]
P Nam negligere, quid de se quisque sentiat, non solum arro- gantis, sed etiam omnino dissoluti.—Cic. de Offic. 1. [28. 99.]
1 Levis est animi, lucem splendoremque fugientis, justam glo- riam, qui est fructus verse virtutis honestissimus, repudiare.—Id, in Pis. [xxiv. 57.]
Sed tamen, ex omnibus preemiis virtutis, si esset habenda ratio
premiorum, amplissimum esse premium gloriam.—lId. pro Mil. (xxxv. 97.]
The Reward of honouring God. 245
which inflames a man with courage, so that he SERM. dares perform what reason and duty require of ——— him, that he disdains to do what is bad or base ; which inspires him with sincerity, that he values his honesty before all other interests and respects, that he abhors to wrong or deceive, to flatter or abuse any man, that he cannot endure to seem otherwise than he is, to speak otherwise than he means, to act otherwise than he promises and pro- fesses; which endows him with courtesy, that he is ready to yield every man his due respect, to afford any man what help and succour he is able; that virtue, which renders a man upright in all his dealings, and correspondent to all his obligations ; a loyal subject to his prince, and a true lover of his country, a candid judge of persons and things, an earnest favourer of whatever is good and commen- dable, a faithful and hearty friend, a beneficial and useful neighbour, a grateful resenter and requiter of courtesies, hospitable to the stranger, bountiful to the poor, kind and good to all the world: that virtue, in fine, which constitutes a man of honour, who surely is the best man next to a man of con- science. Thus may honour be valued from natural light, and according to common sense’,
But beyond all this, the holy scripture (that most certain standard by which we may examine and determine the true worth of things) doth not teach us to slight honour, but rather in its fit order and just measure to love and prize it. It indeed
* Trahimur omnes laudis studio; et optimus quisque maxime gloria ducitur.—Cic. pro Arch. [x1. 26.]
Oi xapievres kat mpaxtikol, plausible and active men do, saith Aristotle, place happiness in honour.—Eth. [1. 3, 4.]
SERM.
Eccles. vii. :; Prov. xxii. a
Eccles. vi. 2.
246 The Reward of honouring God.
instructs us to ground it well, (not upon bad qua-
lities or wicked deeds, that is villainous madness ; not upon things of a mean and indifferent nature, that is vanity; not upon counterfeit shows and pretences, that is hypocrisy; but upon real worth and goodness, that may consist with modesty and sobriety:) it enjoms us not to be immoderate in our desires thereof, or complacences therein, not to be irregular in the pursuit or acquist of it; (to be so is pride and ambition;) but to affect it calmly, to purchase it fairly: it directs us not to make a regard thereto our chief principle, not to propound it as our main end of action: it charges us to bear contentedly the want or loss thereof, (as of other temporal goods ;) yea, in some cases, for conscience sake, or for God’s service, (that is, for a good incomparably better than it,) it obliges us willingly to prostitute and sacrifice it, choosing rather to be infamous than impious‘, (to be in disgrace with men, rather than in disfavour with God:) it, in fine, commands us to seek and embrace it only in subordination and with final reference to God’s honour. Which distinctions and cautions being provided, honour is represented in holy scripture as a thing considerably good, which may be re- garded without blame, which sometimes in duty must be regarded. It is there preferred before other good things, in themselves not despicable. For, A good name is better than precious ointment; yea, A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, saith the Wise Man. It is called a gift of God: for, There is a man, saith the preacher, to
* Non vis esse justus sine gloria? at mehercule spe justus esse debebis cum infamia.—Sen. Epist. cxmu. (25. ]
The Reward of honouring God. 247
whom God hath given riches and honour. Yea, SERM.
not only a simple gift, but a blessing, conferred in :
kindness, as a reward and encouragement of good-
ness: for, By humility and the fear of the Lord, mile xxii.
saith he again, are riches and honour. Whence it *
is to be acknowledged as an especial benefit, and a
fit ground of thanksgiving ; as is practised by the
Psalmist in his royal hymn: Honour, saith he, Ps. xxi. s.
and meyesty hast thou laid upon him. Wisdom a
also is described unto us bearing in her left hand
riches and honour: and wisdom surely will not
take into any hand of hers, or hold therein, what
is worth nothing. No: we are therefore moved
to procure her, because, Halting her, she shall Pieper es
mote us.—She shall give unto our oud an ornament ’*
of grace, a crown of glory shall she deliver to us.
We are also enjoined to render honour as the best
expression of good-will and gratitude toward them
who best deserve in themselves, or most deserve
of us; to our prince, to our parents, to our priests, 1 Pet. ii
especially to such of them as govern and teach ; Tim. v.
well, to all good men, (Have such in reputation, pi, ii. 29.
says the apostle). And were not honour a good
thing, such injunctions would be unreasonable.
Yea, because we are obliged to bear good-will
toward all men, St Peter bids us to Honour all : Pet. ii.
men. From hence also, that we are especially “
bound to render honour unto God himself, we
may well infer with Aristotle, that Honour is the
best thing in our power to offer‘. 'To these consi-
derations may be added, that we are commanded
to walk Evoxnuoves, (Decenit y, or speciously, which cam xiii.
implies a regard to men’s opinion;) to Provide tim. xi. * Eth. rv. 3. [10.] ae
SERM. Ayal
1 Pet. ii. 12.
Phil. iv. 8.
Rom. ii. 6,
~ iio
248 The Reward of honouring God.
things honest in the sight of all men, (Kada, that is, not only things good in substance, but goodly in appearance ;) to Have ow conversation honest be- fore the Gentiles, (Kadjv again, that is, fair, or comely, and plausible, such as may commend us and our profession to the judgment of them who observe us.) St Paul also exhorts us to Mind, not only what things are true, are just, are pure; but also “Oca ceuva, (Whatever things are venerable, or apt to beget respect,) “Oca mporpihii, (Whatever things are lovely, or gracious in men’s eyes and esteem,) “Oca evpnua, (Whatever things are well reported, or well reputed of). He requires us not only, If there be any virtue, (any thing very good in itself,) but, If there be any praise, (any thing much approved in common esteem,) that we should Mind such things. Lastly, the blessed state here- after (the highest instance of divine bounty, the complete reward of goodness) is represented and recommended to us as a state of honour and glory; to be ambitious whereof is the character of a good man. To every man, saith St Paul, shall God ren- der according to his works: to them, who by patient continuance in well doing seek for glory, and ho- nour, and immortality, eternal life.
Such is the reward propounded to us in itself; no vile or contemptible thing, but upon various accounts much valuable; that which the common apprehensions of men, plain dictates of reason, a predominant instinct of nature, the judgments of very wise men, and divine attestation itself, con- spire to commend unto us as very considerable and precious. Such a reward our text prescribes us the certain, the only way of attaining.
The Reward of honouring God. 249
2 Such a benefit is here tendered to us (that se which yet more highly commends it, and exceed- ———— ingly enhances its worth) by God himself: J, saith he, will honour. It is sanctified by coming from his holy hand ; it is dignified by following his most wise and just disposal; it is fortified and assured by depending on his unquestionable word, and un- controllable power: who, as he is the prime au- thor of all good, so he is in especial manner the sovereign dispenser of honour. The king, we say, is the fountain of honour. What any king, as the representative and delegate of God, is in his par- ticular kingdom, that is Almighty God absolutely and independently in all the world. Both riches ! Chron. and honour, said good king David, come of thee, Jor thou rulest over all: in thine hand 1s power and might; in thine hand it 1s to make great, and to give strength unto all. He whose grants are in effect only sure and valid, whose favours only do in the end turn to good account, he freely offers us most desirable preferment; he doth himself gra- ciously hold forth most authentic patents, by virtue of which we may all become right honourable, and persons of quality indeed; having not only the names and titles, the outward ensigns and badges of dignity, (such as earthly princes confer,) but the substantial reality, the assured enjoyment thereof. (For man can only impose law upon tongues and gestures; God alone commandeth and inclineth hearts, wherein honour chiefly resideth.) He offers it, I say, most freely indeed, yet not absolutely: he doth not go to sell it for a price, yet he propounds it under a condition; as a most just and equal, so a very gentle and easy condition. It is but an
SERM.
1 Cor. vi. 20.
250 The Reward of honouring God.
exchange of honour for honour; of honour from God, which is a free gift, for honour from us, which is a just duty; of honour from him our sovereign Lord, for honour from us his poor vas- sals; of honour from the most high Majesty of heaven, for honour from us vile worms creeping upon the earth. Such an overture one would think it not unreasonable to accept, but impossible to refuse. For can any man dare not to honour invincible power, infallible wisdom, inflexible jus- tice? Will any man forbear to honour immense goodness and bounty? Yes, it seems there are men so mad as to reject so fair an offer; so bad as to neglect so equal a duty. Let us therefore con- sider what it is that is here required of us, or wherein this honouring of God consists, that we may thereby discern when we perform this duty, when we are deficient therein.
II. There are several ways of honouring God, or several parts and degrees of this duty; all which we may refer to two sorts, conceiving the duty as a compound, made up of two main ingredients, (correspondent to those two parts in which they reside, and of which our nature consists; which distinction St Paul suggesteth, when he saith, Glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God’s) one of them being, as it were, the form and soul, the other as the matter and body of the duty.
1 The soul of that honour which is required of us toward God, is that internal esteem and reve- rence which we should bear in our hearts towards him; importing that we have impressed upon our minds such conceptions about him as are worthy
The Reward of honouring G'od. 251
of him, suitable to the perfection of his nature, to SERM. the eminency of his state, to the just quality of his works and actions: that we apprehend him to be, what he really is, in his nature, superlatively good, wise, powerful, holy, and just: that we ascribe unto him the production and conservation of all beings, together with an entire superintendency over, and absolute disposal of, all events: that we conceive ourselves obliged to submit unto, and acquiesce in, all his dispensations of providence, as most wise and most righteous; to rely upon the declarations of his mind, (whether in way of asser- tion or promise,) as infallibly true and certain. In such acts of mind the honouring of God doth pri- marily consist. In acts, I say: not in speculative opinions concerning the divine excellencies, (such as all men have, who are not downright atheists or infidels, floating in the fancy, or dormant in the mind;) but in continually present, lively, effectual acts of apprehension and judgment, sinking down into the heart and affections, and quickening them to a congruous, real performance. Such an appre- hension of God’s power, as shall make us to dread his irresistible hand, shall cause us to despair of prospering in bad courses, shall dispose us to con- fide in him, as able to perform whatever he wills us to expect from him: such an opinion of his wis- dom, as shall keep us from questioning whether that is best which God declares to be so; as shall hinder us from presuming (in compliance with our own shallow reason or vain fancy) to do any thing against God’s judgment and advice: such a conceit of God’s justice, as shall render us careful to per- form what his law promises to reward, and fearful
SERM. Vik
Tsai. xxix.
ee Matt.xv.8.
252 The Reward of honouring God.
to commit what it threatens to punish: such a per- suasion concerning God’s goodness, as shall kindle in us an hearty affection toward him, shall make us very sensible of his bounty, and ready to yield returns of duty and gratitude unto him; as shall preserve us from being distrustful of his provi- dence, or doubtful in our need and distress of finding relief from him: such a vigorous and fruit- ful esteem of God in all respects, as shall produce in us dispositions of mind, and actions of life, agreeable to our various relations and obligations to him; becoming us as his creatures and children, as his subjects and servants. This is indeed the soul of the duty, which being absent, all exterior (how specious soever) either professions or per- formances, are but as pictures, having in them somewhat of resemblance in shape and colour, nothing of life: yea rather, as carcases, not only dead and senseless, but rotten and filthy in God’s sight. This people, saith God, do honour me with their lips, but their heart is far from me. Such honour is indeed no honour at all, but impudent abuse and profane mockery: for what can be more abominably vain, than for~a man to court and cajole him, who knows his whole heart, who sees that he either minds not, or means not what he says? It behoves us therefore by all proper means, by contemplating the works and actions of God, (his admirable works of nature, the wise proceedings of his providence, the glorious dispensations of his grace,) by meditating on his word, by praying for his grace, by observing his law and will, to raise up in our hearts, to foment and cherish this inter- nal reverence, which is the true spring of all piety,
The Reward of honouring God. 253
the principle which forms and actuates that other SERM. sort, coming next to be touched on, being the body of our due honour to God; concurring in its order to the integrity thereof, as without which
the interior part would be a kind of ghost, too thin
in substance, too remote from sense, too destitute
of good fruit and use.
2 This bodily part consists in outward expres- sions and performances, whereby we declare our esteem and reverence of God, and produce or pro- mote the like in others. For our thus honouring God respects those two ends and effects, the utter- ing our own, the exciting in others a reverence toward him. And it we may first view in the general or gross bulk thereof; then survey its prin- cipal members.
First, in general, God is honoured by a willing and careful practice of all piety and virtue for con- science sake, or in avowed obedience to his holy will. This is the most natural expression of our reverence toward him, and the most effectual way of promoting the same in others. A subject can- not better demonstrate the reverence he bears to- ward his prince, than by (with a cheerful diligence) observing his laws; for by so doing he declares that he acknowledgeth the authority, and revereth the majesty, which enacted them; that he approves the wisdom which devised them, and the goodness which designed them for public benefit ; that he dreads his prince’s power, which can maintain them, and his justice, which will vindicate them; that he relies upon his fidelity, in making good what of protection or of recompense he propounds to the observers of them. No less pregnant a sig-
a
Tit. iii. 8.
1 Pet. ii. 9.
Matt. v. 16.
Johnxy. 8.
254 The Reward of honouriny God.
nification of our reverence toward God do we yield in our gladly and strictly obeying his laws; thereby evidencing our submission to God’s sovereign au- thority, our esteem of his wisdom and goodness, our awful regard to his power and justice, our con- fidence in him, and dependance upon his word. As also the practice of wholesome laws, visibly producing good fruits, (peace and prosperity in the commonwealth,) doth conciliate respect unto the prince, he thereby appearing wise and good, able to discern, and willing to choose what confers to public benefit: so actions conformable to the divine law, being (by God’s wise and gracious disposal) both in themselves comely and lovely, and in effect, as St Paul saith, Good and profitable to men, conducing indeed not only to private, but also to public welfare, to the rendering human society comfortable, to the settling and securing common tranquillity, the performance of them must needs bring great commendation to the author and or- dainer of them. By observing them we shall, as St Peter speaks, Set forth the virtues of him that called us to such a practice. The light and lustre of good works, done in regard to divine command, will cause men to see clearly the excellencies of our most wise and gracious Lord; will consequently induce and excite them Zo glorify our Father which is in heaven. In this, saith our Saviour, 7s my Father glorified, if you bear much fruit. The good- liness to the sight, the pleasantness to the taste, which is ever perceptible in those fruits which genuine piety beareth, the beauty men see in a calm mind and a sober conversation, the sweetness they taste from works of justice and charity, will
The Reward of honouring God. 255
certainly produce veneration to the doctrine which SERM. teacheth such things, and to the authority which - enjoins them. It is an aggravation of impiety, often insisted upon in scripture, that it slurs, as it oe ii were, and defames God, brings reproach and oblo- ae quy upon him, causes his name to be profaned, to 14. be cursed, to be blasphemed; and it is answerably jue” * a commendation of piety, that by the practice **%?* thereof we (not only procure many great advan-
tages to ourselves, many blessings and comforts
here, all joys and felicities hereafter: but do also thereby) beget esteem to God himself, and sanctify fp iv. ©
hl 16 OF) his ever-blessed name; cause him to be regarded Col, i. 10
and reverenced, his name to be praised and blessed efammals among men. It is by exemplary piety, by Provid- Rom. xii. ing things honest im the sight of all men, by doing “2 things honourable and laudable, (such are all a which God hath been pleased to command us,) that we shall be sure to fulfil that precept of St Paul, of Doing all things to the glory of God; which is the ne x body of that duty we speak of.
Secondly, But there are, deserving a particular inspection, some members thereof, which in a pecu- lar and eminent manner do constitute this honour ; some acts which more signally conduce to the illus- tration of God’s glory. Such are,
1 The frequent and constant performance (in a serious and reverent manner) of all religious duties or devotions immediately addressed to God, or conversant about him: that which the Psalm- ist styles, Giving the Lord the honour due to his Ps. xxix.2. name, worshipping the Lord in the beauty of holi- ness.
2 Using all things peculiarly related unto God,
ae a Wik;
Ps. xxvi.8. Tsai. lviii. 13.
Rom. xiii.
at * Mal. ii. 7.
I Sam. viii.
iE Matt. x.
40.
John xiii. 20.
2 Cor. ix. 1
Prov. iii.g ;
xiv. 31.
Josh. vii. 18, 19.
Apoc. xvi.
9.
John xxi. 19.
256 The Reward of honouring God.
his holy name, his holy word, his holy places, (The places where his honour dwelleth,) his holy times, (religious fasts and festivities,) with especial re- spect.
3 Yielding due observance to the deputies and ministers of God (both civil and ecclesiastical) as such, or because of their relation to God: the doing of which God declares that he interprets and ac- cepts as done unto himself.
4 Freely spending what God hath given us (out of respect unto him) in works of piety, charity, and mercy ; that which the Wise Man calls Honour- ing the Lord with our substance.
5 All penitential acts, by which we submit unto God, and humble ourselves before him. As Achan, by confessing of his sin, is said to Give glory to the Lord God of Israel.
6 Cheerful undergoing afflictions, losses, dis- graces, for the profession of God’s truth, or for obedience to God’s commands. (As St Peter is said by his death, suffered upon such accounts, to glorify God.)
These signal instances of this duty (represented as such in holy scripture) for brevity’s sake I pass over; craving leave only to consider one, most pertinent to our present business, and indeed a very comprehensive one; which is this:
7 We shall especially honour God, by dis- charging faithfully those offices which God hath intrusted us with; by improving diligently those talents which God hath committed to us; by using carefully those means and opportunities, which God hath vouchsafed us, of doing him service and pro-
moting his glory. Thus he to whom God hath
The Reward of honouring God. 257
given wealth, if he expend it (not to the nourish- SERM. ment of pride and luxury, not only to the gratify- ing his own pleasure or humour, but) to the fur- therance of God’s honour, or to the succour of his indigent neighbour, (in any pious or charitable way,) he doth thereby in especial manner honour God. He also on whom God hath bestowed wit and parts, if he employ them (not so much in con- triving projects to advance his own petty interests, or in procuring vain applause to himself, as) in advantageously setting forth God’s praise, hand- somely recommending goodness, dexterously en- gaging men in ways of virtue, (doing which things is true wit and excellent policy indeed,) he doth, thereby remarkably honour God. He likewise that hath honour conferred upon him, if he subordinate it to God’s honour, if he use his own credit as an instrument of bringing credit to goodness, thereby adorning and illustrating piety, he by so doing doth eminently practise this duty. The like may be said of any other good quality, any capacity or advantage of doing good; by the right use thereof we honour God: for that men, beholding the worth of such good gifts, and feeling the benefit emergent from them, will be apt to bless the donor of them; as did they in the Gospel, who, seeing our Saviour cure the paralytic man, did presently Glo- Matt. ix.s. rify God, who had given such power unto men. But especially they to whom power and authority is committed, as they have the chief capacity, so they
are under an especial obligation thus to honour
God: they are particularly concerned to hear and observe that royal proclamation, Give wnto the Lord, Ps. xxix.t, O ye mighty, give unto the Lord glory and strength; *
B. 8. VOL. I. 17
SERM. VEL,
Dan. iv. 34-
Matt. xxiv.
45- E Luke xii. 42.
1 Tim. ii. 2.
258 The Reward of honouring God.
give unto the Lord the honour due unto his name. When such persons (like king Nebuchadnezzar" returned to his right senses) do seriously acknow- ledge their power and eminency derived from God alone; when they profess subjection unto him, and express it in their practice, not only driving others by their power, but drawing them by their example, to piety and goodness ; when they cause God’s name to be duly worshipped, and his laws to be strictly observed; when they favour and encourage virtue, discourage and chastise wickedness; when they take care that justice be impartially administered, innocence protected, necessity relieved, all iniquity and oppression, all violence and disorder, yea, so much as may be, all affliction and wretchedness be prevented or removed; when they by all means strive to promote both the service of God and the happiness of men (Dispensing equally and benignly to the family over which their Lord hath set them, their meat in due season; providing that men under them May live a peaceable and quiet life, in all godliness and honesty; doing which is the business allotted to them, the interest, as it were, of God, which he declares himself concernedly to tender, and by their ministry to prosecute ;) when they carefully do such things, then do they indeed ap- prove themselves worthy honourers of their high Master and heavenly King; then do they truly act God’s part, and represent his person decently. When the actions of these visible gods are so divinely good and beneficial, men will be easily induced, yea, can hardly forbear to reverence and
"“ “T blessed the most High, and praised and honoured him,” &c.—Dan. iv. 34,
The Reward of honouring God. 259
magnify the invisible founder of their authority. = By so doing, as they will set before men’s eyes the best pattern of loyalty; as they will impress upon men’s hearts the strongest argument for obedience and respect toward themselves: as they shall both more plainly inform and more effectually persuade people to the performance of their duty unto them, than by all the law and all the force in the world; as they will thereby consequently best secure and maintain their own honour, and their own welfare, (for men will never be heartily loyal and submissive to authority till they become really good; nor will they ever be very good till they see their leaders such:) so they will together greatly advance the praise and glory of him in whose name they rule, to whose favour they owe their power and dignity ; In whose hand, as the prophet saith, zs their breath, Dan. v. 23. and whose are all their ways. Yor all men will be ready most awfully to dread him, unto whom they see princes themselves humbly to stoop and bow ; no man will be ashamed or unwilling to serve him, whom he shall observe that his lords and governors do concern themselves to worship: the world cannot but have a good opinion of him, a participation of whose power and majesty yields such excellent fruits; it will not fail to adore him, whose shadows and images are so venerable. It is a most notorious thing, both to reason and in experience, what ex- treme advantage great persons have, especially by the influence of their practice, to bring God him- self, as it were, into credit: how much it is in their power easily to render piety a thing in fashion and request. For in what they do, they never are alone, or are ill attended: whither they go they carry the 17—2
SERM. WE:
Proy. xx.8.
260 The Reward of honouring God.
world along with them: they lead crowds of people after them, as well when they go in the right way, as when they run astray. The custom of living well, no less than other modes and garbs, will be soon conveyed and propagated from the Court; the city and country will readily draw good manners thence, (good manners truly so called, not only superficial forms of civility, but real practices of goodness). For the main body of men goeth not Qua eundum, sed qua itur, not according to rules and reasons, but after examples and authorities; es- pecially of great persons, who are like stars, shining in high and conspicuous places, by which men steer their course: their actions are to be reckoned not as single or solitary ones, but are, like their persons, of a public and representative nature, involving the practice of others, who are by them awed, or shamed into compliance. Their good example especially hath this advantage, that men can find no excuse, can have no pretence why they should not follow it. Piety is not only beautified, but fortified by their dignity; it not only shines in them with a clearer lustre, but with a mightier force and influence: a word, a look (the least intimation) from them will do more good, than others’ best eloquence, clearest reason, most earnest endeavours. For it is in them, if they would apply themselves to it, as the wisest prince implies, to scatter miquity with their eyes. A smile of theirs were able to enliven virtue, and diffuse it all about; a frown might suffice to mortify and dissipate wickedness. Such apparently is their power of honouring God; and in proportion thereto surely great is their obligation to do it: of them peculiarly God expects it, and all equity exacts it.
The Reward of honouring God. 261
What the meaner rank of servants (who are em- SERM. VI. ployed in baser drudgeries, whose fare is more coarse, whose wages are more scant, who stand at greater distance from their lord, and receive no such ample or express marks of his favour, what these) do is of some consequence indeed, but doth not im- port so much to the master’s reputation ; their good word concerning him, their good carriage toward him doth not credit him so much. But those whom he employs in matters of highest trust and import- ance to his affairs, whom he places in the nearest degree to himself, (seats even in his own throne, upon his own tribunal,) whom he feeds plentifully and daintily, maintains in a handsome garb, allows largely, as their deportment doth much reflect on their lord’s esteem, as they are highly capable of advancing his repute; so all the rules of ingenuity - and gratitude, all the laws of justice and equity do oblige them earnestly to endeavour it. And it is indeed no less their concernment to do so. For if there be disorders, prejudicial to the master’s honour and interest, frequently committed in the family, it is those servants must be responsible: if due order be there kept to his glory and advantage, they shall chiefly be commended, and peculiarly hear the Euge, bone serve. They must be loaded with other Matt. xxv. men’s faults, or crowned for other men’s virtues, as ” their behaviour hath respectively contributed to them. Those universal rules of equity, proposed in the Gospel, will, in God’s reckoning with and requiting men, be punctually observed: Zo whom- Luke xii. soever much is given, of him much shall be required; * answerable to the improvement of what is delivered in trust shall the acceptance be.
SERM.
.
262 The Reward of honouring God.
I have insisted somewhat more largely on this point, because our text hath a particular aspect thereon; the words being uttered upon occasion of Eli, then judge in Israel, his not using authority to these purposes; his forbearing to redress a grievous abuse, committed by his own sons, to the disservice and dishonour of God. Whence to persons of his rank is this law especially directed; upon them is this duty chiefly incumbent: on them assuredly, (as sure as God is true,) if they will observe the duty, the reward shall be conferred. God will certainly not only preserve the honour they have already, but will accumulate more honours on them.
These are general truths; the particular appli- cation of them is ours. God, I pray, vouchsafe his grace and blessing, that it may be made to our benefit and comfort.
III. I should now shew why the duty is re- quired of us, or how reasonable it is. I must not (and the matter is so palpable that I need not) spend many words on that. God surely doth not exact honour from us because he needs it, because he is the better for it, because he, for itself, de- lights therem. or (beside that he cannot want any thing without himself, that he cannot any wise need mortal breath to praise him*, or hands of flesh to serve him, who hath millions of better creatures than we absolutely at his devotion, and can with a word create millions of millions more, fitter than we to honour him) the best estimation
* “Aknparos yap avitov 7 ovcia Kai avevdens ovaa, ovdevos érépou
mpoadeirar’ of dé aivovyres airov Aapmpdrepor yivovrat.—Chrys. in Psal. cxliv. [Opp. Tom. 1. p. 885.] et vide in Psal. ciii.
The Reward of honouring God. 263
we can have of him is much below him; the best SERM. expression we can make is very unworthy of him. He is infinitely excellent, beyond what we can imagine or declare: His name is exalted above all Nae blessing and praise; His glory is above the earth 13. al and heaven. So that all our endeavours to honour oii ae. him are, in comparison to what is due, but defects, and in a manner disparagements to him. It is only then (which should affect our ingenuity to consider) his pure goodness that moves him, for our benefit and advantage, to demand it of us.
1 For that to honour God is the most proper work of reason; that for which primarily we were designed and framed; (for as other things were made to afford the matter and occasion, so man was designed to exercise the act of glorifying God ;) whence the performance thereof doth preserve and perfect our nature’; to neglect it being unnatural and monstrous.
2 For that also it is a most pleasant duty. He is not a man, (hath lost all natural mgenuity and humanity,) who doth not delight to make some returns thither, where he hath found much good- will, whence he hath felt great kindness. Since then all the good we have, we have received from God’s favour, it cannot but be very pleasant to render somewhat of requital, as it were, unto him; and we can render no other but this. We cannot make God more rich, more joyful, more happy than he is: all that we can do is, to express our reverence toward him,
3 For that likewise our honouring God dis-
Y Sen. Ep. uxxvr. [17.] [Virum bonum, concedas necesse est, summe pietatis erga deos esse. }
264 The Reward of honouring God.
SERM. poses us to the imitation of him, (for what we do
reverence we would resemble,) that is, to the doing those things wherein our chief perfection and hag pilness consiste, whence our best content and joy doth spring.
4 In fine, for that the practice of this duty is most profitable and beneficial to us; unto it by an eternal rule of justice our final welfare and pros- perity being annexed: whence God hath declared it to be the way and condition of our attaining that thing which we so like and prize, honour to our- selves; the which by promise he hath engaged him- self to confer on those who honour him. And,
IV. This promise he makes good several ways: some of them [I shall briefly suggest.
t The honouring God is of itself an honour- able thing; the employment which ennobles heaven itself, wherein the highest angels do rejoice and glory. It is the greatest honour of a servant to bring credit to his master, of a subject to spread his prince’s renown, and (upon grounds vastly more obliging) of a creature to glorify his Maker: that we may do so is an honour we should be glad, may be proud of.
2 By honouring God we are immediately in- stated in great honour; we enter into most noble relations, acquire most illustrious titles, enjoy most glorious privileges; we become the friends and fa- vourites of heaven, are adopted into God’s family, and are styled his children; do obtain a free access unto him, a sure protection under him, a ready assistance from him in all our needs. And what honour can exceed, can equal this?
3 God hath so ordered it, that honour is natu-
The Reward of honouring God. 265
rally consequent upon the honouring him. God SEEM, hath made goodness a noble and a stately thing; ——— hath impressed upon it that beauty and majesty which commands an universal love and veneration, which strikes presently both a kindly and an awful respect into the minds of all men. The righteous Prcrraen ts (not only in himself, but in common esteem) — more excellent than his neighbour. Power may be dreaded, riches may be courted, wit and knowledge may be admired; but only goodness is truly es- teemed and honoured*. Not only men of goodness and discretion, but even the vulgar sort of men (yea, as Plato hath well observed, the worst men) do pass this judgment, do prefer true goodness above all things*. 4 God, by his extraordinary providence, as there is reason and occasion, doth interpose, so as to procure honour to them, to maintain and fur- ther their reputation, who honour him. Grd Ps. xxxiii. fashioneth the hearts of men: The hearts of the Frov. xxi. greatest men are in his hand; he turneth them as* the rivers of waters, whithersoever he will: he con- sequently raiseth or depresseth us, as he pleases, in the judgments and affections of men. When a Prov. xvi. man’s ways please the Lord, he maketh even his ene-" mies to be at peace with him, saith the Wise Man;
*Tevod rod minoiov rii@repos, ex Tov Pavyvat ypnororepos, &c.— Greg. Naz. [Orat. xxiv. Tom.1. p. 276 B.]
Is gloria maxime excellat, qui virtute plurimum prestet.—Cic. [pro Plane. xxv.]
Kar’ addn@eav § 6 ayabds pdvos tyunréos.—Arist. Eth. rv. 3. [20.]
Adeo gratiosa virtus est, ut insitum sit etiam malis probare me- liora.—Sen. de Benef. tv. 17. [2.]
® Gcidy S€ te xal eVoroxoy Evertt Kai Toigt Kakois, @aTE mauToAoL kai trav oGddpa xaxdv ed Tois Adyots kai rais SdEais Starpodvrae rovs Gpeivous tay avOperar, Kai Tols xe(povas.—Plat. [de Leg. xu. 950 B.]
SERM. VE
Ps, xxxvii. 6.
leit oe Alf. XC.
Ps. cxi. 10. Prov. iii. 4,
1 Sam. ii. 8. Ps. cvii. 41.
266 The Reward of honouring God.
that is, he disposeth the most averse minds to love and honour him. No envy can supplant, no slan- der can deface the credit of such a person; since God hath taken it into his charge and care, since he hath said it, that He will bring forth his right- cousness as the light, and his judgment as the noon- day. God also by secret methods, and undiscern- ible trains, ordereth all events, managing our thoughts and designs, our enterprises and actions so, that the result of them shall be matter of benefit, comfort, and reputation, or of disaster, regret, and disgrace, as he thinks good. Victory and success he absolutely disposeth of, and conse- quently of the honour that follows them; and they do usually attend the honours of God: for, as it is in the Psalm, A good success have they who keep his commandments. Many are the instances of persons, (such as Abraham, Joseph, Moses, David, Job, and Daniel,) who, for their signal honouring of God, from a base and obscure, or from an afflicted and forlorn condition, have, in ways strange and wonderful, been advanced to eminent dignity, have been rendered most illustrious, by the providence of him, Who raiseth the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the beggar out of the dunghill, to set them among princes, and to make them inherit the throne of glory. He doth it in an evident man- ner, and eminent degree, to some; he doth it na convenient way, and competent measure, to all that honour him,
5 Whereas men are naturally inclined to bear much regard to the judgment of posterity concern- ing them”, are desirous to leave a good name be-
> Cic. Tuse. 1. [14. 31.]
The Reward of honouring God. 267
hind them, and to have their memory retained in Bee esteem’; God so disposes things, that The memory ———
of the just shall be blessed ; that His righteousness Ey pir shall be had in everlasting remembrance ; that’ His b’ ** light shall rejoice, (or burn clearly and pleasantly, —
even when his life is put out here). No spices can
so embalm a man, no monument can so preserve
his name and memory, as a pious conversation, whereby God hath been honoured, and men bene-
fited. The fame of such a person is, in the best judgments, far more precious and truly glorious,
than is the fame of those who have excelled in any
other deeds or qualities. For what sober man
doth not in his thoughts afford a more high and hearty respect to those poor fishermen, who by
their heroical activity and patience did honour God
in the propagation of his heavenly truth, than to
all those Hectors in chivalry, those conquerors and achievers of mighty exploits, (those Alexanders
and Czsars) who have been renowned for doing things which seemed great, rather than for per- forming what was truly good? To the honour of
those excellent poor men, conspicuous monuments
have been erected everywhere; anniversary memo-
rials of their names and virtues are celebrated ; they
are never mentioned or thought of without respect ;
their commendations are interwoven with the praises
of their great Lordand Maker, whom they honoured*.
ec 3 , ‘ c wy pa ca ‘ a + , > \ Avaykn yap, @s ote, pedew jpiv Kat Tod eretta ypdvov, ered) ‘ , , , ec ‘ > , Qt kal Tuyxavovot Kata Tiva vow of pev avdparodadéctarot ovdev hpov- ~ - - xa ritovres avTov, of & emetkeotarot way TowodyTes, Omws Gy eis TOY ereTa , . xpévov eb dxovowow.—Plat. Epist. m. [311 c.] 4 Tév d€ SovAwy Tod Xpiorod Kai Ta oNpara appa, THv BaoiiKo- Tatnv katadaBovra modw: Kal juepar Katadaveis, €optny TH oikoupevyn
movovoa, &c.—Chrys. in 2 Cor. [Hom. xxvi. Opp. Tom. 11. p. 687.]
268 The Reward of honouring God.
SERM. 6 Lastly, to those who honour God here, God VI. wa hath reserved an honour infinitely great and excel- lent, in comparison whereto all honours here are but dreams, the loudest acclamations of mortal men are but empty sounds, the brightest glories of this world are but duskish and fleeting shadows; 2Cor. iv. an honour most solid, most durable; An eternal weight of glory. They shall, im the face of all the world, be approved by the most righteous Judge's unquestionable sentence ; they shall be esteemed in the unanimous opinion of angels and saints; they shall be applauded by the general voice and attes- tation of heaven; they shall then be seated upon unmovable thrones, their heads encircled with un- fading crowns, their faces shining with rays of unconceivable glory and majesty. The less of honour they have received here, in this transitory moment of life, the more thereof they shall enjoy in that future eternal state; where, with him who, John viii, through the whole course of his life, sought not his #9 5° own honour, but the honour of him that sent him; Heb. ig; Who, for the suffering of death, was crowned with we glory and honour; Who, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set at the right hand of God ; with those who consecrated all their endeavours, and who sacrificed their lives to the promoting of God’s honour, they shall possess everlasting glory. Which, together with them, God Almighty of his infinite merey grant unto us all, through Jesus Christ our Lord; to whom, with God the Father, and God the Holy
Ghost, be for ever all honour and praise. Amen.
SERMON VII.
UPRIGHT WALKING SURE WALKING.
Prov. X. 9. He that walketh uprightly walketh surely.
HE world is much addicted to the politics; the =
heads of men are very busy in contrivance, and their mouths are full of talk about the ways of consulting our safety, and securing our interests. May we not therefore presume, that an infallible maxim of policy, proposing the most expedite and certain method of security in all our transactions, will be entertained with acceptance? Such an one : Kingsiii. the greatest politician and wisest man for business i (if we may take God’s own word for it) that ever was or will be, doth here suggest to us. For the practice couched in our text he otherwhere voucheth for a point of policy, telling us, that A Prov. xv. man of understanding walketh uprightly: and here he recommendeth it as a method of security, He that walketh wprightly walketh surely.
Treating upon which aphorism, I shall, by God’s help, endeavour, first, in way of explication, briefly to describe the practice itself; then, in way of proof, by some considerations to declare, that security doth attend it.
For explication. Yo walk (as well in the style of holy scripture, as in other writings, and even in
270 Upright walking sure walking.
SERM. common speech) doth signify our usual course of
Vil
dealing, or the constant tenor of our practice.
Uprightly, according to the original*, might be rendered, in perfection, or with integrity: and by the Greek translators in several places is supposed chiefly to denote sincerity and purity of intention.
In effect, the phrase, He that walketh wprightly, doth import, one who is constantly disposed in his designs and dealings to bear a principal regard to the rules of his duty, and the dictates of his con- science: who in every case emergent is ready to perform that, which upon good deliberation doth appear most just and fit, in conformity to God’s law” and sound reason, without being swayed by any appetite, any passion, any sinister respect to his own private interest of profit, credit, or plea- sure, to the commission of any unlawful, irregular, unworthy, or base act; who generally doth act out of good principles; (namely, reverence to God, charity to men, sober regard to his own true wel- fare;) who doth aim at good ends, that is, at God’s honour, public benefit, his own salvation, other good things subordinate to those, or well consistent with them; who doth prosecute his designs by lawful means, in fair ways, such as honest provi- dence and industry, veracity and fidelity, depend- ance upon God’s help, and prayer for his blessing: in short, one who never advisedly doth undertake any bad thing, nor any good thing to ill purposes; nor doth use any foul means to compass his in- tents,
a Ding. > “He that walketh in his uprightness, feareth the Lord.”— Prov. xiv. 2.
Upright walking sure walking. 271
Now, that such an one doth ever proceed with SERM. much security, from the following considerations may appear.
I. An upright walker is secure of easily finding his way. ‘ For it commonly requireth no reach of wit or depth of judgment, no laborious diligence of inquiry, no curious intentness of ob- servation, no solicitous care, or plodding study, to discern in any case what is just; we need not much trouble our heads about it, for we can hardly be to seek for it. If we will but open our eyes, it lieth in view before us, being the plain, straight, obvious road, which common reason prompteth, or which ordinary instruction pointeth out to us: so that usually that direction of Solomon is sufficient, Let Broil thine eyes look right on, and let thine eyelids look xvii, 14, straight before thee—Turn not to the right hand, nor to the left.
The ways of iniquity and vanity, (if we may call them ways, which indeed are but exorbitances and seductions from the way,) ill designs and bad means of executing designs, are very unintelligible, very obscure, abstruse, and intricate; being infi- nitely various, and utterly uncertain: so that out of them to pick and fix on this or that may puzzle our heads, and perplex our hearts; as to pursue any of them may involve us in great difficulty and trouble. But the ways of truth, of right, of virtue, are so very simple and uniform, so fixed and per- manent, so clear and notorious, that we can hardly miss them, or (except wilfully) swerve from them.
For they by divine wisdom were chalked out, not only for ingenious and subtle persons, (men of great parts, of refined wits, of long experience,) but
SERM. Vit.
Le AS ob Oy Cxix. 130. Prov. viii. 53 1. 4. Ps, exix. 9. Tsai. xxxv.
Rom. ii.15.
Isai. xxx. aI.
Ps, xxxvii. Bis
Prov. iv. 19; li. 13, Ts;
John viii. 12.
Ps. lxxxii. 53 CXxv. 5; xxxv. 6; xxiii. 18. Jer. Xxiil. 12.
Heb. xii. 13.
Ps. v. 8. Luke iii. 5. Prov. iii. 23.
272 Upright walking sure walking.
rather for the vulgar community of men, the great body of God’s subjects consisting in persons of meanest capacity and smallest improvement: being designed to Make wise the simple, to Give the young man knowledge and discretion: to direct all sorts of people in their duty, toward their happiness; ac- cording to that in the prophet, A high way* shall be there, and it shall be called, The way of holiness —the wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein.
They are in very legible characters graven by the finger of God upon our hearts and consciences, so that by any considerate reflection inwards we may easily read them: or they are extant in God’s word, there written as with a sunbeam, so perspi- cuously expressed, so frequently inculcated, that without gross negligence or strange dulness we cannot but descry them. For who with half an eye may not see, that the practice of pious love and reverence toward God, of entire justice and charity toward our neighbour, of sober temperance and purity toward ourselves, is approved by reason, is prescribed by God to us?
Hence in the holy scriptures, as bad ways are ealled dark, crooked, rough, slippery ways; so the good ways are said to be clear, plain, direct, even ways: The path of the just, say they, is as a shining light. All the words of my mouth are plain to him that understandeth", (or, that considereth them.) My foot standeth in an even place. The law of his God is i his heart: and none of his steps shall slide.
© “08ds kabapa.—LXX.
4 Tavra évomta trois cvvtovot.—LXX.
Upright walking sure walking. 273
Hence it is affirmed, that an upright man doth SERM. hardly need any conduct beside his own honesty.
For, The integrity, saith Solomon, of the upright Deas thal guide them; and, The righteousness of the per- ier 8, Sect shall direct his way. oS ae
But in case such an one should ever be at a 31; xxvi. stand or at a loss, in doubt of his course, he hath xiii Tea always at hand a most sure guide to conduct or 4°." * direct him. It is but asking the way of him, or saying, with the Psalmist, Shew me thy ways, O Ps. xxv. 4; Lord, teach me thy paths; Teach me to do thi y will, he 5; and, Lead me in the way everlasting; O let me not ee ee wander from thy commandments: and then His peepee ears, as the prophet saith, shall hear a word behind 1s. =. lim, saying, This is the way, walk ye in it; then Earaae 9, the words of the Psalmist shall be verified, What xxvii. 23. man is he that feareth the Lord? Him shall he teach in the way that he shall choose. The meek: will he guide im judgment, and the meek he will teach his way.
Hence is the upright man happily secured from tiring pains in the search, from racking anxieties in the choice, from grating scruples and galling regrets in the pursuit of his way.
II. The upright walker doth tread upon firm ground. He doth build his practice, not upon the Prov. xii.s. perilous bogs, the treacherous quagmires, the de- vouring quicksands of uncouth, bold, impious, paradoxes, (such as have been vented by Epicurus, by Machiavel, by others more lately, whose infa- mous names are too well known, as the effects of their pestilent notions are too much felt;) but upon solid, safe, approved, and well-tried principles; viz. these, and the like coherent with them: That there
B.S VOL. I. 18
SERM. VeEL,
274 Upright walking sure walking.
is an eternal God, incomprehensibly powerful, wise, just, and good; who is always present with us, and ever intent upon us; viewing not only all our ex- ternal actions, (open and secret,) but our inmost cogitations, desires, and intentions, by the which our actions chiefly are to be estimated: that he, as governor of the world, and judge of men, doth concern himself in all human affairs, disposing and managing all events according to his righteous pleasure; exacting punctual obedience to his laws, and dispensing recompenses answerable thereto ; with impartial justice rewarding each man accord- ing to the purposes of his heart and the practices of his life: that all our good and happiness doth absolutely depend on God’s favour; so that to please him can only be true wisdom, and to offend him the greatest folly: that virtue is incomparably the best endowment whereof we are capable, and sin the worst mischief to which we are lable: that no worldly good or evil is considerable in compa- rison with goods or evils spiritual: that nothing can be really profitable or advantageous to us, which doth not consist with our duty to God, doth not somewise conduce to our spiritual interest and eternal welfare; yea, that every thing not service- able to those purposes is either a frivolous trifle, or a dangerous snare, or a notable damage, or a woeful bane to us: that content of mind, springing from innocence of life, from the faithful discharge of our duty, from satisfaction of conscience, from a good hope in regard to God and our future state, is in our esteem and choice much to be preferred before all the delights which any temporal posses- sion or fruition can afford; and, that a bad mind is
Upright walking sure walking. 275
the sorest adversity which can befall us. Such are eae the grounds of upright practice, more firm than any rock, more unshakeable than the foundations of heaven and earth; the which are assured by the sacred oracles, and attested by many remarkable providences; have ever been avowed by the wiser sort, and admitted by the general consent of men, as for their truth, most agreeable to reason, and for their usefulness, approved by constant experience; the belief of them having apparently most whole- some influence upon all the concerns of life, both public and private; indeed, being absolutely need- ful for upholding government, and preserving hu- man society; no obligation, no faith or confidence between men, no friendship or peace being able to subsist without it. Whence the practice built on such foundations must be very secure. And if God shall not cease to be, if he will not let go the reins, if his word cannot deceive, if the wisest men are not infatuated, if the common sense of man- kind do not prove extravagant, if the main props of life and pillars of society do not fail; he that walketh uprightly doth proceed on sure grounds.
Tif. The upright person doth walk steadily, maintaining his principal resolutions, and holding his main course, through all occasions, without flinching or wavering, or desultory inconsistence and fickleness; his integrity being an excellent ballast, holding him tight and well poised in his deportment; so that waves of temptation dashing on him do not make him roll in uncertainty, or topple over into unworthy practices.
Lust, passion, humour, interest, are things very mutable, as depending upon temper of body, casu-
18—2
276 Upright walking sure walking.
SEEM. alties of time, the winds and tides of this vertigi-: nous world: whence he that is guided or moved James i. 8. by them must needs be many minded and Unstable Ps.cvii.27. in all his ways ; will Reel to and fro like a drunken man, and be at his wit’s end; never enjoying any settled rest of mind, or observing a smooth tenor of action. But a good conscience is very stable, and persisteth unvaried through all circumstances of time, in all vicissitudes of fortune. For it steer- eth by immoveable pole-stars, the inviolable rules of duty; it aimeth at marks which no force can stir out of their place ; its objects of mind and affection are not transitory; its hopes and confi- Isai. xxvi. dences are fixed on the Rock of ages. Whence an a upright person in all cases, and all conditions, (prosperous or adverse,) is the same man, and goeth the same way®. Contingences of affairs do not unhinge his mind from its good purposes, or divert his foot from the right course. Let the weather be fair or foul, let the world smile or frown, let him get or lose by it, let him be favoured 2Cor. vi.8. or crossed, commended or reproached, (By honowi and dishonour, by evil report and good report,) he will do what his duty requireth: the external state of things must not alter the moral reason of things with him. This is that which the Psalmist observ- Ps. oxii. 7, eth of him: He shall not be afraid of evil tidings, Prov. ii Jor lis heart standeth fast, and believeth in the Lord. i His heart is stablished, and will not shrink. And Prov. xvi, this the Wise Man promiseth to him; Commit thy a works unto the Lord, and thy thoughts shall be esta- blished.
® Justum ac tenacem propositi virum.— Hor. [Carm. 11. 3. 1.]
Upright walking sure walking. 277.
Hence a man is secured from diffidence in him- SERM. self, and distraction in his mind, from frequently re beimg off the hooks, from leading an unequal life, clashing with itself, from deluding and disappoint- ing those with whom he converseth or dealeth, and consequently from the inconveniences issuing thence.
IV. The way of uprightness is the surest for despatch, and the shortest cut toward the execu- tion or attainment of any good purpose; securing a man from irksome expectations and tedious delays, the which, as the Wise Man saith, do Make the Prov. xiii. heart sick. a
It in scripture is called The straight and the Lukeiii. s. plain way. And as in geometry, of all lines or surfaces contained within the same bounds, the straight line and the plain surface are the shortest ; so it is also in morality: by the right line of jus- tice, upon the plain ground of virtue, a man soon- est will arrive to any well-chosen end.
In this way there are no bewildering intrigues and mazes, no crooked windings and turnings, no occasions forcing men to dance hither and thither, to skip backward and forward, to do and undo; which courses do protract business, and commonly do hinder from ever despatching it. But a man acting justly and fairly doth continually proceed on in the direct open road, without retreat, ex- cursion, or deflection; Not turning aside (as the prov. iv. phrase is in holy writ) to the right hand or to the Fout.v.0: left. XXVill. 14.
To clamber over fences of duty, to break through hedges of right, to trespass upon hallowed enclo- sures, may seem the most short and compendious
278 pright walking sure walking.
SERM. ways of getting thither where one would be: but —_doth not a man venture breaking his neck, or scratching his face, incurring mischief and trouble thereby? Is he not liable to the fate to which the
Becles.x. Preacher doometh him, He that diggeth a pit shall fall into it: and whoso breaketh a hedge, a serpent shall bite him? For instance, to grow rich, fraud, extortion, corruption, oppression, overreaching and supplanting may seem the readiest and most expe-
dite ways; but im truth they are the furthest ways
about, or rather no ways at all: for that which is
got by those means is not our own: nor is the pos-
session of it truly wealth, but usurpation, or deten-
tion of spoil and rapine, which we ought to dis-
gorge. And however to the getting it there are
often mighty difficulties occurring from men, there
are commonly insuperable obstacles interposed by
God; who hath expressly condemned and cursed
Prov. xiii, those ways, declaring, that Wealth gotten by vanity xxii. 16; (or cozenage) shall be diminished; that He that oppresseth to increase his riches, shall surely come to
xxviii 22, want; that He, who (thus) hasteth to be rich, hath ‘an evil eye, and considereth not that poverty shall Jer. xvii come upon him; that As the partridge sitteth on eggs, and hatcheth them not: so he that getteth riches
and not by right, shall leave them in the midst of
his days, and at his end shall be a fool. Whereas
the plain way of honest, harmless industry, (joined
with a pious regard to him who is the dispenser of
all good things,) how slow soever it may seem, is
the most speedy, because the only safe way to thrive; having, beside all secondary advantages,
2 igs ‘i the security of those oracles; The hand of the dili-
xiii. 11; gent shall make rich: He that gathereth by labour
Xx. 4.
Upright walking sure walking. 279
shall increase: By humility and the fear of the eels Lord are riches, and honour, and life.
V. The way of uprightness is in itself very safe, free of danger, tending to no mischief ; accord- ing to those sayings of the Wise Man; 7 ae shall Prov. “A no evil happen to the just: In the way & 1 ghtcous- x xvi. 17 ; ness is life; and in the path thereof there is no 2; eee 21, death. A
He who designeth only that which is just and reasonable, who innocently and fairly prosecuteth his intent, can run no great hazard, cannot fall Ps. xxvii. into any extreme disaster, cannot irrecoverably ~ a sink into miserable disappointment.
He probably will not receive much harm from men, or trouble from the world: for, as he mean- eth innocently, as he dealeth imoffensively, (not violently assailing, nor fraudulently circumventing, not any wise injuriously or maliciously abusing any man,) as he doth yield no just provocation or ur- gent temptation to oppose him; so is he not very likely to meet with obstructions or crosses thwart- ing his designs. He can hardly raise up adversa- ries; at least such as will prove very formidable, or very fierce and implacable toward him.
He may be sure that few wise men, and no good men, will trouble him; but that such rather will afford their countenance and furtherance to his undertakings.
But assuredly he shall have the favourable pro- tection of Almighty God, who throughly knowing his heart, and observing the righteousness of his intentions and proceedings, will not suffer him to incur any notable, destructive, remediless calamity.
His prayer, dictated by good conscience, Let inte- Ps.xxv.21.
Psicxig.
280 Upright walking sure walking.
SEEM. gr ity and wprightness preserve me, will certainly be
— heard; God having passed his word for it in num- Pron 3 %: berless places of scripture; particularly in those Prov-ii.75 remarkable words of Isaiah: He that walketh right-
XVill. 10;
xxviii. 18; eously, and speaketh uprightly ; he that despiseth Ps.xviii.2, the gain of oppressions, that shaketh his hands from 0, 35 ; , : ;
xxii 4; holding of bribes, that stoppeth his ears from hearing
ob a on of blood, and shutteth his eyes from seeing evil; he
Leixxxiy, SLAM dwell on high: his place of defence shall be the
15,16. gnunitions of rocks; his bread shall be given him, his water shall be sure. That is, a man who is constantly upright in his dealings shall by the divine Providence be infallibly and impregnably preserved from any grievous mischief, from any sore want, from any extreme distress.
The way of uprightness is ever guarded with angels ready to promote the affairs of the honest person, or at least to protect him from evil. He may hopefully say to himself, as Abraham did to
Gen. xxiv. his servant, Zhe Lord, before whom I walk, will - send his angel with thee, and prosper thy way: or he confidently may apply to himself that of the Ps. xci. Psalmist, He shall give his angels charge over thee, hee keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.
However, the sequel will be tolerable: whatever the success of his undertaking be, it can be no ruin, no slur, no heart-breaking to him. His con- science is safe, his credit is entire, his hopes are good; he is perfectly secure from being tainted with foul guilt, from being exposed to due reproach, from being stung with vexatious remorse, from being plunged into a gulf of desperation or discon- solateness. or,
Upright walking sure walking. 281
VI. The way of uprightness 1 is fair and plea- — sant. He that walketh in it hath good weather, and a clear sky about him; a hopeful eonedea and a cheerful satisfaction do ever wait upon him. It is joy, as the Wise Man saith, to the just to do ee judginent. s
Being conscious to himself of an honest mean- ing, and a due course of prosecuting it, he feeleth no check or struggling of mind, no regret or sting of heart ; being throughly satisfied and pleased with what he is about, his judgment approving, and his will acquiescing in his procedure, as worthy of him- self, agreeable to reason, and conformable to his duty.
He therefore briskly moveth forward with ala- erity and courage; there bemg within him nothing to control or countermand him, to pull him back, to make him halt, to distract or disturb him.
Nor hardly can any thing abroad dismay or discourage him. For he may reasonably hope for the good-will of men, and cannot hugely dread their opposition. He may strongly presume upon the propitious aspect and favourable succour of Prov. xi. Heaven, which always smileth and casteth benign *° influences on honest undertakings.
He that hath chosen a good way may with Jer. xxxi. assurance commend his way to God’s providence ; Prov scat he may depend upon God for his concurrent bene- #5, 5, 46 diction ; he, with an humble boldness, may address prayers to God for his protection and aid. He, so Ps. xxxvii, doing, hath interest in divers clear declarations and *' ?* express promises of good success; such as those; Commit thy way unto the Lord, trust also in him, Prov. xvi. and he shall bring it to pass. The Lord is nigh teoms. ii
10,
SERM.
Ps. xxxiv. 22; XXVi. XXxiil. 21. Prov. x.
a4. Ps. exlv. 18, 19; XXXIV. 15; XXVi. II. Job xxii. 27- garner 6. Ps. vii. 8; XXV1. I. 2 Kings xX:
Proy. x.28.
Ps. xviii. 20, 21.
282 Upright walking sure walking.
unto all that call wpon him in truth: he will fulfil the desire of them that fear him; he will hear their Cry, and will save them.
He may dare to refer his case to the severest examination, saying with Job, Let me be weighed in an even balance, that God may know mine inte- grity; and with the Psalmist, Judge me, O Lord, according to my righteousness, and according to mine integrity that is in me.
He with an humble confidence can appeal to God, borrowing the words of Hezekiah, J beseech thee, O Lord, remember how I have walked before thee in truth and with a perfect heart, and have done that which is good in thy sight.
Hence, The hope of the righteous, as the Wise Man telleth us, 7s gladness. He, considering the goodness, the justice, the fidelity of God, whereof his integrity doth render him capable and a proper object, cannot but conceive a comfortable hope of a good issue.
And obtaining success, he doth not only enjoy the material pleasure thereof, but the formal satis- faction that it 1s indeed good success, or a blessing indulged to him by special favour of God; enabling him to say with the Psalmist, The Lord rewarded me according to my righteousness; according to the cleanness of my hands hath he recompensed me. For I have kept the ways of the Lord, and have not wickedly departed from my God.
However, an upright dealer hath this comfort- able reserve, that whatever doth befall him, how- ever the business goeth, he shall not condemn and punish himself with remorse; he shall not want a consolation able to support and to erect his
Upright walking sure walking. 285
mind. He shall triumph, if not in the felicity of Sues his success, yet in the integrity of his heart, and the innocence of his deportment; even as blessed Job did under all the pressures of his adversity: for, Till I die, said he, I will not remove my inte- y ob xxvii. grity from me. My righteousness I hold fast, and ~ will not let it go: my heart shall not reproach me so long as I live.
So true it is upon all accounts, that, according to that assertion in the Psalm, Light is sown for Ps, xevii. the righteous, and joyful gladness for the wpright in e heart.
VIT. He that walketh uprightly is secure as to his honour and credit. He is sure not to come off disgracefully, either at home in his own appre- hensions, or abroad in the estimations of men. He doth not blush at what he is doing, nor doth reproach himself for what he hath done. No blem- ish or blame can stick upon his proceeding.
By pure integrity, a man first maintaineth a due respect and esteem for himself, then preserveth an entire reputation with others: he reflecteth on his own heart with complacence, and looketh upon the world with confidence. He hath no fear of being detected, or care to smother his intents. He is content that his thoughts should be sounded, and his actions sifted to the bottom. He could even wish that his breast had windows, that his heart were transparent, that all the world might see through him, and descry the clearness of his intentions. The more curiously his ways are marked, the more exactly his dealings are scanned, the more throughly his designs are penetrated and
284 Upright walking sure walking.
— known; the greater approbation he is sure to
6,
receive.
The issue of things assuredly will be creditable to him; and when the daylight hath scattered all mists, hath cleared all misprisions and mistakes, his reputation will shine most brightly: the event declaring, that he had no corrupt ends ; the course of his proceedings being justified by the very light of things.
God himself will be concerned to vindicate his reputation, not suffermg him to be considerably
2 Seas defamed; according to that promise, He shall bring ees. Jorth thy righteousness as the light, and thy judgment
as the noon-day. That in Job will be made good
Job xi 15-to him, Then shalt thou lift up thy face without
spot: and he may confidently aver with the Psalm-
Ps. exix.6, ist, Then shall I not be ashamed, when I have re-
39) 46
spect to all thy commandments.
If he findeth good success, it will not be invi- dious, appearing well deserved, and fairly procured: it will be truly honourable, as a fruit and recom- pense of virtue, as a mark and pledge of the divine favour toward him.
If he seemeth disappointed, yet he will not be disparaged: wise and candid men will excuse him; good men will patronise his cause; no man of sense
Ps, xxxvii. and ingenuity will insult on his misfortune. He
19.
shall not, as the Psalmist assureth, be ashamed in an evil time. Yea, often his repute from under a cloud will shine, if not with so glaring splendour, yet with a pleasant lustre; uprightness disposing him to bear adverse events with a graceful de- cency.
\
Upright walking sure walking. 285
VIII. The particular methods of acting which =— uprightness disposeth to observe, do yield great security from troubles and crosses in their transac- tions.
What is the conduct of the upright man? He Prov. xiii. is clear, frank, candid, harmless, consistent in all Ps, xxxiv. his behaviour, his discourse, his dealing. His **’ *”” heart commonly may be seen in his face, his mind doth ever suit with his speech, his deeds have a just correspondence with his professions; he never faileth to perform what he doth promise, and to satisfy the expectations which he hath raised.
He doth not wrap himself in clouds, that none may see where he is, or know how to find him; may discern what he is about, or whither he tendeth.
He disguiseth not his intents with fallacious pretences of conscience, of public good, of special friendship and respect.
He doth use no disingenuous, spiteful, unjust tricks or sleights, to serve the present turn.
He layeth no baits or snares to Catch men, Jer. v. 26.
Pgs lave Si alluring them into mischief or inconvenience. Wvi a ix. As he doth not affect any poor base ends, so {3 ".i5
he will not defile his fair intentions by sordid 0:*xv-75 means of compassing them; such as are illusive Prov xxvi. simulations, and subdolous artifices, treacherous Beles, x.8, collusions, sly insinuations and sycophantic detrac- j, oe ae tions, versatile whifflngs and dodgings, adulatorous ?. *: 9,105 colloguings and glozings, servile crouchings and Rom. =a fawnings, and the like. Hoctus He hath little of the serpent, (none of its ee lurking insidiousness, of its surprising violence, of Prov. Sos
its rancorous venom, of its keen mordacity,) but **%" >
286 Upright walking sure walking
SERM. much of the dove, (all its simplicity, its gentleness, its fidelity, its innocence,) in his conversation and commerce.
His wisdom is ever tempered with sincerity, and seasoned with humanity, with meekness, with ee ii, charity; bemg The wisdom which is from above,
first pure, Gols peaceable, gentle, easy to be entreated, full of good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy. Prov. xiv. He sometime may prudently reserve his mind, tr. xii, 3, not venting it by foolish loquacity: but his words 16; xi, do never clash with his meaning, so as to deceive
23; xii. 23. Eeelus. xx. oy disappoint any man.
Prov.xxit. He may warily prevent harm and decline perils: 33 XXvii.
12; xiv. 8 but it is without hurtful countermining, or deriy-
** *- ing mischief on his neighbour.
agai He may discreetly pick out seasons, and em-
brace opportunities of righting or benefiting him- self: but he never will seek or lay hold of advan- tages to prejudice others.
aor He sometimes may repress insurrections of
’ “anger or disgust: but he never doth allow them to
bake into rancour or malice.
He may be apt to use courteous, affable, oblig- ing demeanour, serving to breed friendships, and to stifle enmities: but he never thereby meaneth to gull, inveigle, and entrap men; or to procure instruments and aids of any perverse design.
He is no enemy to himself, but (according to the obligations of reason and conscience) he hath always a regard to the good of others; nor is ever so selfish, as to be unjust or uncharitabe to any man.
The principal engines he doth employ for ach-
Upright walking sure walking. 287
ieving his enterprises are, a careful and cautious SERM. providence in contriving, a sedulous and steady diligence in acting, a circumspect heedfulness not to provoke any man by offensive carriage, by injury, by discourtesy, to obstruct him, but rather by kind demonstrations and real beneficence to engage men to further him in his proceedings: but espe- cially his main instrument, wherein he most con- fideth, is devout supplication to God for his succour and blessing.
Now is not this conduct the most secure that can be? doth it not afford many great commodities and advantages? doth it not exempt from manifold fears, and cares, and crosses, and slaveries?
Jt cannot but derive blessings from the God of fea truth, the great friend of simplicity and sincerity, 7” the hater of falsehood and guile.
And humanly regarding things, he that useth these methods, doth from them obtain many con- veniences. He doth not lie under perpetual con- straint, engaged to keep a constant guard upon himself, to watch his memory, to curb his tongue, to manage his very looks and gestures, lest they betray his intentions, and disclose his plots. He is not at the trouble of stopping holes, of mending flaws, of patching up repugnances in his actions, that his mind do not break through them. He is not afraid of the disappointment and shame which attend the detection of unworthy designs. He is not at pains to obviate the jealousies, the surmises, the diffi- dences, the counterplots, the preventive oppositions Prov. xvi. and assaults, which gloomy closeness and crafty xxi, 6 te dissimulation ever do raise against the practisers ;* *“" ofthem. In fine, men do not shun the conversa-
288 Upright walking sure walking.
SERM. tion and the commerce of an upright person, but gladly do consort and deal with him; do seek his acquaintance and alliance: they are not apt to dis- trust him, to suspect him, to be shy and reserved in their intercourse with him; but readily do place an entire confidence in him, and use a clear frank- ness toward him. No man doth fear him as dan- gerous, or will cross him as an adversary. Whence as he seldom hath cause to fear, or occasion to contest with others; so he doth undisturbedly en- joy the benefits of society with great safety, ease, and comfort.
IX. Lastly, an upright walker hath perfect security, as to the final result of affairs, that he shall not be quite baftled in his expectations and desires. And if prosperity doth consist in a satis- faction of mind concerning events, he cannot fail Ps. i. 3. Of most prosperous success. Whatsoever he doeth, prev x8 aith the Psalmist of him, it shall prosper. How
is that? Doth he, if he warreth, always get the
victory? is he perpetually, when he tradeth, a con-
siderable gainer? will he certainly, after sowing,
reap a plentiful crop? Probably yes; and perhaps
no. Yet assuredly he shall prosper, in the true
notion of prosperity, explained by those divine
Ps. xxvii. sayings: Mark the perfect man, and behold the
icai, xxxii. Upright; for the end of that man is peace. The
a work of righteousness shall be peace, and the effect
of righteousness quietness and assurance for ever.
Fecles.viii. Surely I know it shall be well with them that fear = God.
He cannot be much defeated in his purposes:
for, as to his general, principal, absolute designs,
(that is, his design of pleasing God, and procuring
Upright walking sure walking. 289
his favour; his design of satisfying himself, and oy discharging his conscience ; his design of promoting : his own spiritual interest, and saving his soul; his design of doing good, of exercising charity to his neighbour, of serving the public, of obliging the world by virtuous example, and by real benefi- cence,) these he cannot fail throughly to accom- plish; nothing can obstruct him in the prosecution, nothing can debar him from the execution of these undertakings ; in spite of all the world, by the suc- cour of that divine grace which ever doth favour and further such designs, he most happily will achieve them. And for other inferior designs, he can hardly be crossed in regard to them: for it is an essential part of integrity, not otherwise to affect or aim at private, secular interests, than under condition, and with a reservation, if it be God’s pleasure, if it seem good to divine wisdom. He knoweth that his pains employed on any honest purpose, in a fair way, (be it to procure some worldly advantage for himself, for his relations, or for his friend,) are not lost, if they have the fruit of submission to God’s will, and acquiescence in the event disposed by him. He is assured that it is good luck to have his project blasted, and that missing is better than getting, when by sovereign wisdom it is so determined. He therefore could not so fix his heart, or engage his affection in any such concern, that his mind is surprised, or his passions discomposed by a seeming adverseness of events to his endeavours. So that in effect he can have no bad success. For how can that occurrence be deemed bad, which plain reason dictateth in certain judgment to be most expedient for him; B.8. VOL. I. 19
SERM.
Ps xxxv,
Prov. xiv. 2.
290 Upright walking sure walking.
about which he ever was very indifferent, and with which at present he is not heartily displeased? How can it be taken for disappointment and mis- fortune, which one was prepared to embrace with satisfaction and complacence ?
Yea, to a person so disposed, that success which seemeth most adverse, justly may be reputed the best and most happy, as promoting ends incompar- ably more excellent than any worldly acquist: as producing fruits exceedingly more wholesome and more savoury than any temporal commodity; as exercising and improving the divinest virtues, (humility, patience, meekness, moderation, con- tentedness,) a grain whereof is worth all the wealth, all the preferment, all that is desirable in the world.
Wherefore let the worst that can arrive, (or that which human blindness and fondness do count the worst,) yet upright persons do not come off ill, or so (matters bemg rightly stated) as to be losers upon the foot of the account.
If this do not satisfy grosser apprehensions, we may add, that even in these meaner concerns A|- mighty God is pleased commonly to reward and encourage upright persons by the best success. For he hath, as it were, a natural inclination to gratify those who desire to please him; and, as the Psalm- ist expresseth it, Hath pleasure in the prosperity of his servants. He may seem concerned in ho- nour to countenance those who have regard to his will, and who repose confidence in his aid; diseri- minating them from such as presume to act against or without him, in defiance to his will, with no deference to his providence. As they do render
Upright walking sure walking. 291
him his due respect, by submitting to his authority, = and avowing his power; so he will acknowledge them by signally favouring their concerns. Even Deut.
his truth and fidelity are engaged in their behalf ; a ee ie Ps. exxviii.
seeing he very often hath declared and rnnieed acre that = all matters, and upon all occasions, he will XXXIV. 9,
10; lxxxiv. Gs be ready to bless them. Lae: X. To conclude; It is an infinite advantage of 33 33. ccles, Vili.
upright dealing, that at the last issue, tet all s.
things shall pe most accurately tried and impar- aie 10,
ae decided, a man is assured to be fully justified 7° * °*
in it, and plentifully rewarded for it. As then all
the deceits, which now pass under specious masks,
shall be laid bare; all varnish of pretence shall be
wiped off; all perverse intrigues shall be unravel-
led; all wicked and base intentions shall be quite
stripped of the veils which now enfold them; all
shrewd contrivers and engineers of mischief, all
practisers of unjust and malicious guile, shall be
exposed to shame, Shall lie down i sorrow: so Isai. 1.11.
then The righteous man shall stand in great bold- Wisa. v. x.
ness; his case will be rightly stated, and fully
cleared from slanderous aspersions, from odious
surmises, from unlucky prejudices and mistakes:
what he hath done shall be approved; what he
hath suffered shall be repaired. So that it then
evidently will appear, that upright simplicity is the
deepest wisdom, and perverse craft the merest
shallowness ; that he, who is true and just to others,
is most faithful and friendly to himself; that who-
ever doth abuse his neighbour, is his own greatest
cheater and foe. For, Jn the day when God shall Rom. ii.r6.
judge the secrets of men by Jesus Christ, Every man’s 1 oS = 19=3 13; lV. 5.
SERM. Wil,
292 Upright walking sure walking. work shall be made manifest. The Lord will bring
to light the hidden things of darkness, and will make
© “Tim. 2. x7:
manifest the counsels of the hearts; and then shall every man have praise of God. Unto which our upright Judge, The King eternal, immortal, invi- sible, the only wise God, be honour and glory for ever and ever. Amen.
SERMON VIII.
OF THE DUTY OF PRAYER.
hy PaEss,. Visage
Pray without ceasing.
1" is the manner of St Paul in his Epistles, after Hoe that he hath discussed some main points of doctrine or discipline, (which occasion required that he should clear and settle,) to propose several good advices and rules, in the observance whereof the life of Christian practice doth consist. So that he thereby hath furnished us with so rich a variety of moral and spiritual precepts, concerning special matters, subordinate to the general laws of piety and virtue; that out of them might well be com- piled a body of ethics, or system of precépts De oficis, in truth and in completeness far excelling those which any philosophy hath been able to devise or deliver. These he rangeth not in any formal method, nor linketh together with strict connection, but freely scattereth them, so as from his mind (as out of a fertile soil, impregnated with all seeds of wisdom and goodness) they did aptly spring up, or as they were suggested by that — holy Spirit which continually guided and governed him.
Among divers such delivered here, this is one, which shall be the subject of my present discourse;
294 The Duty of Prayer.
SERM. the which, having no other plain coherence (ex-
VIL. , cept by affinity of matter) with the rest enclosing it, I shall consider absolutely by itself, endea- vouring somewhat to explain it, and to urge its practice.
Pray without ceasing. For understanding these words, let us first consider what is meant by the act enjoined, Praying; then, what the qualification or circumstance adjoined, Without ceasing, doth import.
1 The word prayer doth, in its usual latitude of acception, comprehend all sorts of devotion, or all that part of religious practice, wherein we do immediately address ourselves to God, having by speech (oral or mental) a kind of intercourse and conversation with him. So it includeth that praise which we should yield to God, implying our due esteem of his most excellent perfections, most glo- rious works, most just and wise dispensations of providence and grace; that thanksgiving whereby we should express an affectionate resentment of our obligation to him for the numberless great benefits we receive from him; that acknowledg- ment of our entire dependence upon him, or our total subjection to his power and pleasure ; together with that profession of faith in him, and avowing of service to him, which we do owe as his natural creatures and subjects; that humble confession of our infirmity, our vileness, our guilt, our misery, (joined with deprecation of wrath and vengeance, ) which is due from us as wretched men and griev- ous sinners; that petition of things needful or con- venient for us, (of supply in our wants, of succour and comfort in our distresses, of direction and
The Duty of Prayer. 295
assistance in our undertakings, of mercy and _ par- don for our offences,) which our natural state (our poor, weak, sad, and sinful state) doth engage us to seek ; that intercession for others, which general charity or special relation do require from us, as concerned or obliged to desire and promote their good. All these religious performances, prayer, in its larger notion, doth comprise ; according whereto in common use the whole body of divine service, containing all such acts, is termed prayer; and temples, consecrated to the performance of all holy duties, are styled houses of prayer; and that brief directory, or pregnant form of all devotion, which our Lord dictated, is called his prayer; and in numberless places of scripture it 1s so taken.
In a stricter sense, it doth only signify one particular act among those, the petition of things needful or useful for us.
But according to the former more comprehen- sive meaning, I choose to understand it here; both because it is most commonly so used, (then, espe- cially, when no distinctive limitation is annexed, or the nature of the subject-matter doth not restrain it,) and because general reasons do equally oblige to performance of all these duties in the manner here prescribed: nor is there any ground to exclude any part of devotion from continual use; we being obliged no less incessantly to praise God for his excellencies, and thank him for his benefits, to avow his sovereign majesty and authority, to confess our infirmities and miscarriages, than to beg help and mercy from God. All devotion therefore, all sorts of proper and due address to
SERM. VIII.
God, (that Maca mpocevyy, All prayer and suppli- Eph. vi Io,
296 The Duty of Prayer.
SERM. cation, which St Paul otherwhere speaketh of) are
VIII
here enjoined, according to the manner adjoined, Without ceasing, ‘Adiadeirtws, that is, indesinently, or continually.
2 For the meaning of which expression, we must suppose, that it must not be understood as if we were obliged in every instant or singular point of time actually to apply our minds to this practice : for to do thus is in itself impossible, and therefore can be no matter of duty; it is inconsistent with other duties, and therefore must not be practised ; yea, will not consist with itself; for, that we may pray, we must live; that we may live, we must eat; that we may eat, we must work; and must there- fore attend other matters: so that actual devotion neither must nor can swallow up all our time and care. The deliberate operations of our mind are sometimes interrupted by sleep, sometimes will be taken up in satisfying our natural appetites, some- times must be spent in attendance upon other rea- sonable employments commanded or allowed by God; whence there can be no obligation to this practice according to that unlimited interpretation. This precept therefore (as divers others of a like general purport and expression) must be under- stood not in a natural, but moral sense, according as the exigence of things permitteth, or as the reason of the case requireth; so far as it is conve- niently practicable, or as it is reasonably compa- tible with other duties and needs. But we must not so restrain it as to wrong it, by pinching it within too narrow bounds*. How then it may be
® Adoro scripture plenitudinem.—Tertull. [adv. Hermog. cap. xx. Opp. p. 241 p.]
The Duty of Prayer. 297
understood, and how far it should extend, we shall ge a endeavour to declare, by propounding divers senses whereof it is capable, grounded upon plain testi- monies of scripture, and enforcible by good reason; according to which senses we shall together press the observance thereof.
I. First then, Praying incessantly may import the maintaining in our souls a ready disposition or habitual inclination to devotion; that which in scripture is termed The spirit of supplication. This Zech. xii. in moral esteem, and according to current language *~ derived thence, amounteth to a continual practice ;
a man being reckoned and said to do that, to
which he is ever prompt and propense: as it is
said of the righteous man, that He zs ever merciful, Heo and lendeth, because he is constantly disposed to i supply his neighbour with needful relief; although
he doth not ever actually dispense alms, or furnish
his neighbour with supplies for his necessity. The
words may signify this; they do at least by conse- quence imply so much: for if we do not in this,
we can hardly perform the duty in any sense; without a good temper fitting, and a good appetite prompting to devotion, we scarce can or will ever
apply .ourselves thereto. If there be not in our
heart a root of devotion, whence should it spring ?
how can it live or thrive? Ifthe organs of prayer
are out of kelter, or out of tune, how can we pray?
If we be not Accincti, have not the loins of our : Pet.i.13. mind girt, and our feet shod in preparation to the wel i service, when shall we set forward thereto? My pPh-vi'+
Ps. evili. 1.
heart, said David, is fixed, I will sing and gue 2 Coren. 19.
praise: fixed, that is, readily prepared, and steadily ! Ezra vii. inclined to devotion. So should ours constantly © ‘
298 The Duty of Prayer.
SERM. be. As a true friend is ever ready to entertain
his friend with a frank courtesy and complacency ; as he ever is apt upon occasion for advice and assistance to have recourse to him: so should we be always disposed cheerfully and decently to con- verse with God, when he freely cometh to us, or we have need to apply ourselves to him. If there be (from stupidity of mind, from coldness of affec- tion, from sluggishness of spirit, from worldly dis- traction) any indisposition or averseness thereto, we should, by serious consideration and industrious care, labour to remove them; rousing our spirits, and kindling in our affections some fervency of desire toward spiritual things; otherwise we shall be apt to shun, or to slip the opportunities inviting to devotion; our hearts will be so resty or listless, that hardly we shall be induced to perform it, when it is most necessary or useful for us.
IT. Praying incessantly may denote a vigilant attendance (with earnest regard, and firm purpose) employed upon devotion: such attendance as men usually, bestow on their affairs, whereof, although the actual prosecution sometime doth stick, yet the design continually proceedeth; the mind ever so directing its eye toward them, as quickly to espy, and readily to snatch any advantages of promoting them. This is a kind of continuance in practice, and is commonly so termed: as we say, that such a one is building a house, is writing a book, is occupying such land, although he be at present sleeping, or eating, or following any other business; because his main design never sleepeth, and his purpose resteth uninterrupted. This is that which is so often enjoined under the phrase of watching
The Duty of Prayer. 299
about prayer. Watch ye therefore, and pray alwaa 2S saith our Lord. Continue in prayer, and watch im the same, saith St Paul. Be ye sober, and watch unto prayer, saith St Peter. Which expressions im- i ee
Luke xxi.
Eph. vi. port a most constant and careful attendance upon '*, 3 1 Pet. iv.
this duty: that we do not make it a [lapepyov, or Matt.xxiv. by-business in our life, (a matter of small consider- 73; ation or indifference, of curiosity, of chance,) to be transacted drowsily or faintly, with a desultorious and slight endeavour, by fits, as the humour taketh us; but that, accounting it a business of the choicest nature and weightiest moment, we do adhere thereto with unmoveable purpose, regard it with undis- tracted attention, pursue it with unwearied dili- gence, being always upon the guard, wakeful and expedite, intent upon and apt to close with any occasion suggesting matter thereof. That we should do thus, reason also doth oblige: for that, as in truth no business doth better deserve our ut- most resolution and care; so none doth more need them; nature being so backward, and occasion so slippery, that if we do not ever mind it, we shall seldom practise it.
Ill. Praying incessantly may signify, that we do actually embrace all fit seasons and emergent occasions of devotion. This, in moral computation, doth pass for continual performance: as a tree is said to bear that fruit, which it produceth in the season; and a man is accounted to work in that trade, which he exerciseth whenever he is called thereto. This sense is, in several precepts parallel to that in hand, plainly expressed. Pray, saith gph. vi. St Paul, with all prayer and supplication, *Ev mavri*® capo; and, Watch, saith our Lord, ’Ev ravtt carpe ae xxi.
SERM. Il.
2 Tim. iv. 2.
2 Cor. vi.2. Tsai. xlix.
Ps. xviii. 1,2;
Ixxi. 3, &c.
300 The Duty of Prayer.
cedueror, praying in every season, or upon every opportunity. Devotion, indeed, is rarely unseason- able or impertinent: we may offer it Evxaipws, axai- pws, In season, and out of season; that is, not only taking opportunities presented for it, or urgently requiring it, but catching at them, and creating them to ourselves, when there is no such apparent and pressing need of it. But there are some special occasions, which more importunately and indispensably do exact it: some seasons there are, (either ministered by extrinsical accidents, or springing from internal dispositions,) when, with- out both great blame and much damage to our- selves, we cannot neglect it: times there be most proper and acceptable, when we do especially need to pray, and when we are likely to speed well
i. therein. very one, saith the Psalmist, that is
godly will pray unto thee in a time when thou may- est be found: and, My prayer, saith he again, is unto thee in an acceptable time.
Thus, when we have received any singular bless- ing or notable favour from God, when prosperous success hath attended our honest enterprises, when we have been happily rescued from imminent dan- gers, when we have been supported in difficulties, or relieved in wants and straits; then is it season- able to render sacrifices of thanksgiving and praise to the God of victory, help, and mercy; to admire and celebrate him, who is our Strength, and our deliverer, our faithful refuge in trouble, our fortress, and the rock of our salvation. To omit this piece of devotion then is vile ingratitude, or stupid neg- ligence and sloth.
When any rare object or remarkable occurrence
The Duty of Prayer. 301
doth, upon this theatre of the world, present itself SERM. to our view, in surveying the glorious works of nature, or the strange events of Providence; then is a proper occasion suggested to send up hymns of praise to the power, the wisdom, the goodness of the world’s great Creator and Governor.
When we undertake any business of special mo- ment and difficulty, then it is expedient (wisdom prompting it) to sue for God’s aid, to commit our affairs into his hand, to recommend our endeavours to the blessing of him, by whose guidance all things are ordered, without whose concourse nothing can be effected, upon whose arbitrary dis- posal all success dependeth.
The beginning of any design or business (al- though ordinary, if considerable) is a proper season of prayer unto him, to whose bounty and favour we owe our ability to act, support im our proceed- ings, any comfortable issue of what we do: (for All 2Oor- iii-s. our sufficiency is of him: Without him we can do Jobnxv.5. nothing.) Whence we can never apply ourselves to any business or work, not go to eat, to sleep, to travel, to trade, to study, with any true content, any reasonable security, any satisfactory hope, if we do not first humbly implore the favourable pro- tection, guidance, and assistance of God”.
When we do fall into doubts, or darknesses, (in the course either of our spiritual or secular affairs, ) not knowing what course to steer, or which way to turn ourselves; (a case which, to so blind and silly creatures as we are, must often happen;) then doth the time bid us to consult the great oracle of truth,
The mighty Counsellor, The Father of lights, seek- —
> Aci mdons mpakews mponyeicbat mpocevxyv.—Marc. Erem. a
302 The Duty of Prayer.
SERS. ing resolution and satisfaction, light and wisdom
——— from him; saying with the Psalmist, Shew me thy Li > Wa ys, O pees lead me in thy truth, and teach me; BR for thou art the God of my salvation: Order my
Ps. xxv.
#53 11; Steps im thy word, and let not any iniquity have do-
XXvVi. ee
et ;minion over me; following the advice of St James, xxxii.8; If any man lack ae let him ask of God, that aa gweth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and pames & it shall be given him. lame When any storm of danger blustereth about Ps. Iwi 3 us, perilously threatening, or furiously assailing us xvii, 3°? with mischief, (so that hardly by our own strength or wit we can hope to evade,) then with the wings of ardent devotion we should fly unto God for shelter and for relief.
When any anxious care distracteth, or any heavy burden presseth our minds, we should by prayer ease ourselves of them, and discharge them upon God, committing the matter of them to his care and providence; according to that direction of
Phil. iv. 6. St Paul, Be careful for nothing: but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.
When we do lie under any irksome trouble or sore distress, (of want, pain, disgrace,) then, for succour and support, for ease and comfort, we
ee should have recourse to The Father of pities, and 18,19; God of all consolation; Who is nigh to all that call = 77; upon him, will also hear their cry, and will save 25 them; who, when The righteous cry, doth hear
IVvi,°3';
lexxiv. 9; them, and delivereth them out of all their troubles;
XXxll. 7; eck
=e who is so often styled The hiding-place from trou- bles, the help and strength, the shield and buckler,
the rock, the fortress, the high tower, the horn of
The Duty of Prayer. 303
salvation, to all good and distressed people. To = him we should in such a condition have recourse, imitating the pious Psalmist, whose practice was this: In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord: ae a L poured out my complaint before him, I shewed exli 25 before him my trouble: I called unto the Lord in ape my distress: the Lord answered me, and set me in a large place.
When any strong temptation doth invade us, with which by our own strength we cannot grap- ple, but are like to sink and falter under it; then is it opportune and needful that we should seek to God for a supply of spiritual forces, and the succour of his almighty grace, as St Paul did: when There was given to him a thorn in the flesh, a 2 Ag xii. messenger of Satan to buffet him; then He besought ” the Lord thrice that it might depart from him: and he had this return from God, My grace is suf- jicient for thee.
When also (from ignorance or mistake, from inadvertency, negligence, or rashness, from weak- ness, from wantonness, from presumption) we have transgressed our duty, and incurred sinful guilt; then, (for avoiding the consequent danger and vengeance, for unloading our consciences of. the burden and discomfort thereof,) with humble con- fession in our mouths, and serious contrition in our hearts, we should apply ourselves to the God of mercy, deprecating his wrath, and imploring pardon from him; remembering that promise of St John, If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to for- 1 Joni. 9. give us our sins, and to cleanse us from all iniquity; and that declaration of the Wise Man, He that ue
Vill. 13.
SERM.
5; li.1, &. Job vii. 20.
Heb. iv. 16.
Jer. XXXvV.
15.
Prov. i. 24. Isai. -L 2; Ixv. 12;
lxvi. 4.
304 The Duty of Prayer.
covereth his sins shall not prosper, but he that con- fesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy.
In these and the like cases God by our necessi- ties doth invite and summon us to come unto him; and no less foolish than impious we are, if we do then slink away, or fly from him. Then we should (as the apostle to the Hebrews exhorteth) Come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in tume of need, (or, for seasonable relief.)
And beside those outwardly prompting and urging us, there be other opportunities, springing from within us, which we are no less obliged and concerned to embrace. When God by his gentle whispers calleth us, or by his soft impulses draweth us into his presence; we should then take heed of stopping our ears, or turning our hearts from hin, refusing to hearken or to comply. We must not any wise quench or damp any sparks of devout affection kindled in us by the divine Spirit; we must not repel or resist any of his kindly sugges- tions or motions.
Whenever we find ourselves well affected to, or well framed for devotion; that we have a lively sense of, and a coming appetite to spiritual things; that our spirits are brisk and pure, our fancy calm and clear, our hearts tender and supple, our affec- tions warm and nimble; then a fair season offereth itself; and when the iron is so hot, we should strike.
If at any time we feel any forward inclinations or good dispositions to the practice of this duty, we should never check or curb them, but rather
© Els eUxatpov BonOeav.
The Duty of Prayer. 305
should promote and advance them; pushing our- cet selves forward in this hopeful career ; letting out the stream of our affections into this right channel, that it may run freely therein, that it may over- flow and diffuse itself in exuberance of devotion.
Further,
IV. Praying incessantly may signify, that we should with assiduous urgency drive on the intent of our prayers, never quitting it, or desisting, till our requests are granted, or our desires are accom- plished. Thus doing we may be said to pray con- tinually: as he that goeth forward in his journey, (although he sometime doth bait, sometime doth rest and repose himself,) is said yet to be in travel; or as he that doth not wave the prosecution of his cause, (although some demurs intervene,) is deemed still to be in suit. This is that which our Lord did in the Gospel prescribe and persuade, where it is recorded of him, that He spake a parable unto eA them, that men ought always to pra Ys and not to- faint. That praying always the ensuing discourse sheweth to import restless importunity, and perse- verance in prayer: the same which so often is com- mended to us by the phrases of My éxxaxeiv, Not to ©. i. 9. Saint or falter; Mn ravec@a, Not to cease, or give Rom xii. over; Ilpocxaprepetv, To continue instant, or hold Cu. iv. 2, out aie AyoviterOa, To strive earnestly, oY pynvi.rs. contest and struggle in prayers; Upoouevew rais PS: * 43
xi. 10; xiv.
cejjoeat, To abide at supplications; ‘Aypurvetv év a 6;
Taon ™pookapreprcet, To watch with all perseverance. ape 6, 323 That which also is implied by those terms, which ixxxii’ 16. . Job viii. 5. in scriptural style do commonly express devotion: pint iv,
by Seeking God; which implieth, that God doth *% B.S. VOL. I. 20
16.
306 The Duty of Prayer.
SERM. not presently, upon any slight address, discover himself in beneficial effects answerable to our de-
row vi sires, but after a careful and painful continuance in
Ps. Ixxvii. our applications to him: by Waiting upon God ;
6 ; cxxiil. 2; Ixix.3; Which signifieth, that if God do not presently CXxXxX. 55
xxvii. 7; appear granting our requests, we should patiently fof 14; Stay, expecting till he be pleased to do it in his ~xvll. 345 own best time, according to that in the Psalm, Our
xXXV. 21; cole lix.9; @ yes wait upon the Lord our God, until he have Tsai. vile mercy upon us: by Knocking ; which intimateth, 17; Xt. 31 xlix.23. that the door of grace doth not ever stand open, or
Hos. xii. Lam. iii, that we can have an effectual access to God, until
722° he, warned, and as it were excited, by our earnest #2. _... lmportunity, pleaseth to listen, to disclose himself, Ps. exxiii, ? ’
2. to come forth unto us.
come xii.
ial And this practice reason also doth enforce.
“For there are some good things absolutely neces- sary for our spiritual life and welfare, (such as are freedom from bad inclinations, disorderly affec- tions, vicious habits, and noxious errors‘; the sanc- tifying presence and influence of God’s holy Sprit, with the blessed graces and sweet fruits thereof ; erowth in virtue, delight in spiritual things, the sense of God’s love and favour, with the like,) which good reason engageth us perseveringly to seek, as never to rest or be satisfied till we have acquired them in perfect degree; since we cannot ever do well without them, or ever get enough of them. In begging other inferior things, it may become us to be reserved, indifferent, and modest; but about these matters (wherein all our felicity is extremely concerned) it were a folly to be slack or
4 Vid. Chrys. ad Theod. 1. Opp. Tom. v1.
The Duty of Prayer. 307
timorous®: as we cannot be said immoderately to pe desire them, so we cannot be supposed immodestly to seek them there, where only they can be found,
in God’s presence and hand. The case doth bear,
yea, doth require, that we should be eager and hot, resolute and stiff, free and bold, yea, in a manner peremptory and impudent solicitors with God for
them. So our Saviour intimateth, where compar-
ing the manner of God’s proceeding with that of
men, he representeth one friend yielding needful succour to another, not barely upon the score of friendship, but Aca tiv avaiceay, For his impu- Luke xi.8. dence; that is, for his confident and continued urgency, admitting no refusal or excuse. So doth
God, in such cases, allow and oblige us to deal
with him, being instant and pertinacious in our requests, Giving him no rest; (as the phrase is in Isai.lxii. 7. the prophet;) not enduring to be put off, or brook-
ing any repulse; never being discouraged, or cast
into despair, by any delay or semblance of neglect.
We may wrestle with God, like Jacob, and with Ja-
cob may say, I will not let thee go, except thou bless Gen. xxxii, me. Thus Godsuffereth himself to be prevailed upon, =
and is willingly overcome: thus Omnipotence may
be mastered, and a happy victory may be gained
over invincibility itself. Heaven sometime may be
forced by storm; (or by the assaults of extremely fervent prayer;) it assuredly will yield to a long
siege. God will not ever hold out against the attempts of an obstinate suppliant. So The king- Matt. xi. dom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent’ take it by force. We read in St John’s Gospel of Jou v. s.
. Aidds 0 odk dyab) Kexpnuév@ avOpt mpoikrp.
(Hom. Od. xvi. 347.] 20—2
308 The Duty of Prayer.
SERM. a man, that, being thirty-eight years diseased, did —_—_ wait at the pool of Bethesda seeking relief: him our Lord pitied and helped, crowning his patience with miraculous relief, and proposing it for an ex- ample to us of perseverance’. It is said of the Gen. xxv. patriarch Isaac, that He entreated the Lord for a his wife, because she was barren; and the Lord was entreated of him, and Rebecca his wife conceived. Whereupon St Chrysostom doth observe, that he
had persevered twenty years in that petition®. Of good success to this practice we have many Lam. iii, assurances in holy scripture. Zhe Lord is good
25.
Isai. xxx. unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seek- oe xT.
23. eth him®. Blessed are all they that wait for him. ae sone that wait on him shall be ashamed. They Tsai xl. 31. that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength ; xxviii. 9. they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they
Ezra viii. 22. shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and
Amos vV. 4.
2 Chron, not faint. So hath God assured by his word, and Po ix. ro; engaged himself by promise, that he will yield aa 6. > unto constant and patient devotion; so that it shall Ixx.4; never want good success.
ite Without this practice we cannot indeed hope to obtain those precious things; they will not come at an easy rate, or be given for a song; a lazy wish or two cannot fetch them down from heaven. God will not bestow them at first asking, or deal them out in one lump: but it is wpon assiduous solicit- ing, and by gradual communication, that he dis- penseth them. So his wise good-will, for many Vid. Chrys. Orat. xu. Opp. Tom. v. [p. 266.] et in Joh. Hom. xxxvi. Tom. 1. [p. 700.] 8 Vid. Orat. Lxvur. Tom. vi. [p. 701.]
h « Seeking God, the periphrasis of a religious man.”—Ps. xiv, 2.
The Duty of Prayer. 309
special reasons, disposeth him to proceed: that we = may (as it becometh and behoveth us) abide under a continual sense of our natural impotency and penury: of our dependance upon God, and obliga-
tion to him for the free collation of those best
oifts: that by some difficulty of procuring them
we may be minded of their worth, and induced the
more to prize them: that by earnestly seeking them
we may improve our spiritual appetites, and excite
holy affections: that by much conversing with heaven our minds may be raised above earthly things, and our hearts purified from sordid desires:
that we may have a constant employment answer-
able to the best capacities of our souls, worthy our
care and pain, yielding most solid profit and pure delight unto us: that, in fine, by our greater en- deavour in religious practice we may obtain a more ample reward thereof.
For the same reason indeed that we pray at all, we should pray thus with continued instance. We do not pray to instruct or advise God; not to tell him news, or inform him of our wants: (He knows Matt.vi.8. them, as our Saviour telleth us, before we ask:) nor do we pray by dint of argument to persuade God, and bring him to our bent; nor that by fair speech we may cajole him or move his affections toward us by pathetical orations: not for any such purpose are we obliged to pray. But for that it becometh and behoveth us so to do, because it is a proper instrument of bettermg, ennobling, and perfecting our souls; because it breedeth most holy affections, and pure satisfactions, and worthy resolutions, be- cause it fitteth us for the enjoyment of happiness, and leadeth us thither: for such ends devotion is
310 The Duty of Prayer.
SERM. prescribed; and constant perseverance therein being VIII. needful to those purposes, (praying by fits and starts not sufficing to accomplish them,) therefore such perseverance is required of us. Further,
V. Praying incessantly may import, that we do with all our occupations and all occurrences interlace devout ejaculations of prayer and praise ; lifting up our hearts to God, and breathing forth expressions of devotion, suitable to the objects and occasions which present themselves. This, as it nearly doth approach to the punctual accomplish- ment of what our text prescribeth, so it seemeth
Biphs a required by St Paul, when he biddeth us Pray Col. iii. 16. always "Ev mvevuats, in spirit, and to sing ’Ev 7A Kapoia, in the heart: that is, with very frequent eleva- tions of spirit in holy thoughts and desires toward heaven; with opportune resentments of heart, directing thanks and praise to God. We cannot ever be framing or venting long prayers with our lips, but almost ever our mind can throw pious glances, our heart may dart good wishes upwards; so that hardly any moment (any considerable space of time) shall pass without some lightsome flashes of devotion’. As bodily respiration, without inter- mission or impediment, doth concur with all our actions; so may that breathing of soul, which pre- serveth our spiritual life, and ventilateth that holy flame within us, well conspire with all other occu- pations™. For devotion is of a nature so spiritual,
1 Sed non satis perspiciunt, quantum natura humani ingenii valeat: que ita est agilis et velox, sic in omnem partem, ut ita dixerim, spectat, ut ne possit quidem aliquid agere tantum unum: in plura vero, non eodem die modo, sed eodem temporis momento, vim suam impendat.—Quint. 1. 12. [2.]
* Mvnpovevréoy yap Ocod padrov } dvarvevoréov’ kal, et oldy re
The Duty of Prayer. 311
so subtle, and penetrant, that no matter can ex- clude or obstruct it. Our minds are so exceed- ingly nimble and active, that no business can hold pace with them, or exhaust their attention and activity. We can never be so fully possessed by any employment, but that divers vacuities of time do intercur, wherein our thoughts and affections will be diverted to other matters. As a covetous man, whatever beside he is doing, will be carking about his bags and treasures; an ambitious man will be devising on his plots and projects; a volup- tuous man will have his mind in his dishes; a las- civious man will be doting on his amours; a studi- ous man will be musing on his notions; every man, according to his particular inclination, will lard his business and besprinkle all his actions with cares and wishes tending to the enjoyment of what he most esteemeth and affecteth: so may a good Christian, through all his undertakings, wind in devout reflections and pious motions of soul toward the chief object of his mind and affection’, Most businesses have wide gaps, all have some chinks, at which devotion may slip in. Be we never so urgently set or closely intent upon any work, (be we feeding, be we travelling, be we trading, be we studying,) nothing yet can forbid, but that we may together wedge in a thought concerning God’s goodness, and bolt forth a word of praise for it; but that we may reflect on our sins, and spend a penitential sigh on them; but that we may descry our need of God’s help, and despatch a brief peti-
rovro eimeiv, pndé GdXo Te } ToUTO mpaxréov.—Greg. Naz. [Orat. xXvil. Opp. Tom. f. p. 490 B.] 1 Vid. Chrys. Orat. v. in Annam. Opp. Tom. v. [pp. 77, 78.]
SERM. VILE:
SERM. WALLE.
312 The Duty of Prayer.
tion for it: a God be praised, a Lord have mercy, a God bless, or God help me, will nowise interrupt or disturb our proceedings”. As worldly cares and desires do often intrude and creep into our devotions, distracting and defilmg them; so may spiritual thoughts and holy affections insinuate themselves into, and hallow our secular transac- tions. This practice is very possible, and it is no less expedient: for that if our employments be not thus seasoned, they can have no true life or savour in them; they will in themselves be dead and putrid, they will be foul and noisome, or at least flat and insipid unto us.
There are some other good meanings of this precept, according to which, holy scripture (backed with good reason) obligeth us to observe it: but those, (together with the general mducements to the practice of this duty,) that I may not further now trespass on your patience, I shall reserve to another opportunity.
A 4 U > , ™ Eire kata Svavoray, ’Edenodv pe, 6 eds, Kal amnptictai gov 7
evxn.—Chrys. [ubi supra, p. 77.
i
SERMON IX.
OF THE DUTY OF PRAYER.
F brass. Vo .17. Pray without ceasing.
heen the prayer here enjoined by St Paul SERM. doth import, and how by it universally all : sorts of devotion should be understood, we did for- merly discourse. How also according to divers senses (grounded in holy scripture, and enforced by good reason) we may perform this duty inces- santly, we did then declare; five such senses we did mention and prosecute: I shall now add two or three more, and press them.
VI. Prayiny then incessantly may imply, that we do appoint certain times conveniently distant for the practice of devotion, and carefully observe them. To keep the Jews in a constant exercise of divine worship, God did constitute a sacrifice, which was called Tamidh, (H ccaravros Ovaia,) The Dan. viii continual sacrifice. And as at that sacrifice, being Heb. xiii. constantly offered at set times, was thence de- yy, . 33. nominated continual; so may we, by punctually observing fit returns of devotion, be said to pray incessantly.
And great reason there is that we should do so. For we know that all persons, who would not lead a loose and slattering life, but design with good
SERM.
ake
Jamesi. 8.
314 The Duty of Prayer.
assurance and advantage to prosecute an orderly coutse of action, are wont to distribute their time into several parcels; assigning some part thereof to the necessary refection of their bodies, some to the convenient relaxation of their minds, some to the despatch of their ordinary affairs, some also to familiar conversation and interchanging good offi- ces with their friends*; considering, that otherwise they shall be uncertain and Unstable in all their ways. And in this distribution of time devotion surely should not lack its share: it rather justly claimeth the choicest portion to be allotted thereto, as being incomparably the noblest part of our duty, and mainest concernment of our lives. The feeding our souls and nourishing our spiritual life, the refreshing our spirits with those no less plea- sant than wholesome exercises, the driving on our correspondence and commerce with heaven, the improving our friendship and interest with God, are affairs which above all others do best deserve, and most need being secured. They must not therefore be left at random, to be done by the by, as it hitteth by chance, or as the fancy taketh us. If we do not depute vacant seasons, and fix peri- odical returns for devotion, engaging ourselves by firm resolution, and inuring our minds by constant usage to the strict observance of them, secluding from them, as from sacred enclosures, all other businesses; we shall often be dangerously tempted to neglect it, we shall be commonly listless to it, prone to defer it, easily seduced from it by the en-
* Cur ipsi aliquid forensibus negotiis, aliquid desideriis amico-
rum, aliquid rationibus domesticis, aliquid curs corporis, nonnihil voluptatibus quotidie damus ?—Quint. 1. 12. [7.]
The Duty of Prayer. 315
croachment of other affairs, or enticement of other SERM. pleasures. It is requisite that our souls also (no wes less than our bodies) should have their meals, set-
tled at such intervals as the maintenance of their
life, their health, their strength and vigour do require; that they may not perish or languish for
want of timely repasts; that a good appetite may
duly spring up, prompting and instigating to them;
that a sound temper and robust constitution of soul
may be preserved by them.
Prayers are the bulwarks of piety and good conscience, the which ought to be placed so as to flank and relieve one another, together with the interjacent spaces of our life; that the enemy (The Heb. xii. sin which doth so easily beset us) may not come on between, or at any time assault us, without a force sufficiently near to reach and repel him.
In determining these seasons and measures of time according to just proportion, honest prudence (weighing the several conditions, capacities, and circumstances of each person) must arbitrate. For some difference is to be made between a merchant and a monk, between those who follow a court, and those who reside in a cloister or a college. Some men having great encumbrances of business and duty by necessity imposed on them, which consume much of their time, and engage their thoughts; of them in reason, neither so frequent recourses to, nor so long durances in prayer can be demanded, as from those who enjoy more abundant leisure, and freer scope of thoughts. But some fit times all may and must allow, which no avocation of business, no distraction of care should purloin from them.
316 The Duty of Prayer.
SERM. Certain seasons and periods of this kind nature ‘__ itself (in correspondence to her unalterable revolu- tions) doth seem to define and prescribe: those which the royal prophet recommendeth, when he sores saith, It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord, and to sing praises unto thy name, O thou most high: to shew forth thy lovingkindness every morning and thy faithfulness every night. Every day we do recover and receive a new life from God; every morning we do commence business, or revive it; from our bed of rest and security we then issue forth, exposing ourselves to the cares and toils, to the dangers, troubles, and temptations of the world: then especially therefore it is reason- able, that we should sacrifice thanks to the gracious preserver of our life, and the faithful restorer of its supports and comforts; that we should crave his direction and help in the pursuit of our honest undertakings; that to his protection from sin and mischief we should recommend ourselves and our affairs; that, by offering up to him the first-fruits of our diurnal labours, we should consecrate and consign them all to his blessing; that, as we are then wont to salute all the world, so then chiefly with humble obeisance we should accost him, who is ever present with us and continually watchful over us. Then also peculiarly devotion is most seasonable, because then our minds being less pre- possessed and pestered with other cares, our fancies becoming lively and gay, our memories fresh and prompt, our spirits copious and brisk, we are better disposed for it. Every night also reason calleth for these duties ; requiring that we should close our business and
The Duty of Prayer. 317
wind up all our cares in devotion; that we should = then bless God for his gracious preservation of us from the manifold hazards and the sins to which we stood obnoxious; that we should implore his mercy for the manifold neglects and transgressions of our duty, which through the day past we have incurred; that our minds being then so tired with study and care, our spirits so wasted with labour and toil, that we cannot any longer sustain our- selves, but do of our own accord sink down into a posture of death, we should, as dying men, resign our souls into God’s hand, depositing ourselves and our concernments into his custody, who alone Doth Ps. exxi.4. never sleep nor slumber; praying that he would guard us from all the dangers and disturbances incident to us in that state of forgetfulness, and interregnum of our reason; that he would grant us a happy resurrection in safety and health, with a good and cheerful mind, enabling us thereafter comfortably to enjoy ourselves, and delightfully to serve him.
Thus if we do constantly bound and circum- scribe our days, dedicating those most remarkable breaks of time unto God’s service, since beginning and end do comprehend the whole, seeing, in the computation and style of Moses, Evening and Geni. Morning do constitute a day, we may with some good congruity be said to pray incessantly.
Especially if, at the middle distance between those extremes, we are wont to interpose somewhat of devotion. For as then usually our spirits, being somewhat shattered and spent, do need a recruit, enabling us to pass through the residue of the day with its incumbent business; so then it would do
318 The Duty of Prayer.
SERM. well, and may be requisite, in a meal of devotion “to refresh our souls with spiritual sustenance, drawn from the never-failing storehouse of divine grace; which may so fortify us, that with due vigour and alacrity we may perform the ensuing duties to God’s honour and our own comfort. Thus to practise was the resolution of the Psalmist, that Ps. lv.17. oreat master of devotion; Hvening, said he, and morning, and at noon, will I pray, and ery aloud. And this was the custom of the noble Daniel, from which no occasion could divert, no hazard could Dan. vito. deter him: He kneeled, saith the story, wpon his knees three times a day, and prayed, and gave
thanks before his God. These are times which it is necessary, or very expedient, that all men (even persons of highest rank, and greatest employment) should observe. These even of old were the practices of religious persons, not expressly prescribed by God’s law, but assumed by themselves; good reason suggesting them to the first practisers, and the consenting
example of pious men afterward enforcing them.
God indeed did himself in his law, or by his prophets, appoint public and solemn celebrations of worship to himself, in sacrifices (involving prayer and accompanied therewith) constantly to be offered 2Chron. ii. every Morning and evening: religious princes also 1 Chron, did institute services of thanksgiving and praise to sai so be performed at those times: but there doth not Kara Mi. 3. appear any direct institution of private devotion, or its circumstances ; but the practice thereof seem-
eth originally to have been purely voluntary, managed and measured according to the reason, by the choice of each person; yet so, that the prac-
The Duty of Prayer. 319
tice of eminently good men leading, and others fol- 2H ke lowing, it grew into a kind of common law, or standing rule, (seeming to carry an obligation with it,) to observe the times specified.
Besides those three times, there were further other middle times observed by devout people, who had leisure and disposition of mind thereto; once between morning and noon, and once between noon and evening were sequestered to that purpose : whence in the Acts the ninth hour of the day (that is, the middle interval between noon and evening) is called The hour of prayer. Yea, some did im- Acts iit. pose on themselves the observation of two other times, one between evening and midnight, the other between midnight and morn. To which practice those places in the Psalms do seem to allude; My mouth shall praise thee with joyful lips, ¥ Ps, Ixiii. 5, when I remember thee on my bed, and meditate on . thee in the night-watches. I prevented the dawning Ps. Sear of the morning, and cried: Mine eyes prevent the Nera night-watches, that I may meditate on thy word.
And plainly the whole number of those times which the Psalmist observed is expressed in those words: Seven times a day will I praise thee, be- Ps. cxix. cause of thy righteous judgments. Which examples a whoever shall choose to follow, (in any measure,)
he shall do wisely and commendably; he shall cer- tainly have no cause to repent; he will find it richly worth his while; great benefit and comfort will thence accrue unto him.
If indeed Jews were so liberal in assigning, so punctual in affording such portions of time for yielding praise, and offermg supplications unto God; how much more free and ready, more careful
SERM.
aX.
Heb. ix. 6.
Luke xxiv.
53-
320 The Duty of Prayer.
and diligent, should we be in this way of practice! we who have a religion so far more spiritual, and exempt from corporeal encumbrances; precepts so much more express and clear; so much higher obligations and stronger encouragements to this duty; whom God in especial manner so graciously doth invite, so powerfully doth attract unto himself. But further,
VII. More especially this precept may be supposed to exact from us a compliance in carefully observing the times of devotion: ordained by public authority, or settled by general custom. ‘This in a popular and legal sense is doing a thing indesi- nently, when we perform it so often as is required by law or custom. So the apostle to the Hebrews saith of the priests, that They went always into the tabernacle, accomplishing the serviceof God: Always, that is, at all the solemn times appointed. And thus of the apostles it is affirmed by St Luke, that They were continually in the tenyple, blessing and praising God; that is, they constantly resorted thither at the stated times of concourse for prayer. This good reason also plainly doth enjoin: for that the neglecting it is not only a disorderly behaviour in a matter of high consequence; a criminal disre- gard and disobedience to authority; a scandalous contempt of our neighbours, from whose laudable fashion we discost; a wrongful deserting the public, to whose good, mainly promoted by the public worship of God, we do owe the contribution of our endeavour; but a heinous affront to Almighty God, who thereby is plainly dishonoured, and in a manner openly disavowed; a huge prejudice to religion, the credit and power whereof, without
The Duty of Prayer. 321
visible profession, exemplary compliance, mutual SERM. consent and encouragement, cannot be upheld. Were there times by law or custom defined, (as in some places indeed there are,) when all men should be required in person solemnly to attend on their prince, for professing their allegiance, or deferring any homage to him; would not those, who should wilfully refuse or decline appearance, be justly chargeable as guilty of dishonouring and wronging him? would not their such defailance pass for suf- ficient proof that they do not acknowledge him, that at least they do not much regard or value him? So, by not joining at stated times in cele- bration of divine worship, we may be well conceived wholly to disclaim God, or greatly to disesteem him; to slight religion, as a thing insignificant and unprofitable. Do we not indeed thereby more than intimate, that we little believe God to be our sovereign Lord and Governor; that we stand in no great awe or dread of him; that we are not much sensible of his benefits and mercies; that we repose small trust or hope in him; that we do not take ourselves much to want his protection, his guidance, his assistance, his favour and mercy? Are we not in effect like to those in Job, who Say Job xxi. unto God, Depart from us; for we desire not the“? '* knowledge of thy ways? What is the Almighty,
that we should serve him? or what profit shall we
have, if we pray unto him? Thus the standers-by
commonly (some so as to be much offended at,
others so as to be corrupted by our bad example)
will interpret this neglect: and so assuredly God
himself will take it from us, and accordingly deal
with us. As he claimeth this public attendance
B.S. VOL. I. 21
SERM.
adhe
Effie o cb ee Toa Kya 2.
Matt.x.33. Luke ix. 26; xii. 9. 2 Tim. ii. 12.
Proy. iil.
322 The Duty of Prayer.
on him for his due: (Give, proclaimeth he by the mouth of one of his great heralds, Give unto the Lord, O ye mighty, give unto the Lord glory and strength: Give unto the Lord the glory due to his name: worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness:) so if we to his wrong and disgrace refuse to yield it, we shall certainly find answerable resentment and recompense from him: that as we are careless to serve him, so he will be unmindful to bless us; as we are backward to avow and glorify him, so he will not be forward to own and grace us; as we do so Deny him before men, so he will deny us before them also. What other measure indeed can we imagine or expect to receive? Will God, think we, be so partial and fond to us, so disregardful and injurious toward himself, that he will vouch- safe to appear in favour to us, when we deign not to appear in respect to him? that he will openly tender our repute, when we apparently disregard his honour? that he will employ his wisdom, or exert his power, in our behalf, when we scarce will think a thought, or stir a step, for his service? Can we hope that he will freely dispense prosper- ous success to our enterprises, when we either care not or scorn to implore his help? that he will reach forth undeserved blessings to us, when we subtract due praises from him? that he will any wise shew himself bountiful and merciful toward us, when we so palpably are injust and ingrateful toward him? No, Surely he scorneth the scorners; and, Whoso-
. ever despiseth him shall be lightly esteemed; so he
expressly hath threatened; and seeing he is both infallibly true and invincibly able, we may reason- ably presume that he will accomplish his word.
The Duty of Prayer. 323
VITT. Lastly, Praying incessantly may im- SERM. : eo port at large a frequency in devotion. This the words at least do exact or necessarily imply, how- ever expounded. For doing incessantly cannot imply less than doing frequently: in no tolerable sense can we be said to do that continually, which we do seldom: but it is an ordinary scheme of speech to say, that a man doth that always, which he is wont to do, and performeth often. As of the pious soldier Cornelius it is said, that He gave Acts x. 2. much alms to the people, and prayed to God always; and of Anna the prophetess, that She departed Lukeii.37. not from the temple, but served God with prayers and fastings night and day; that is, she frequently resorted to the temple, and served God with an assiduous constancy. As the words may bear and do involve this sense, so doth the reason of the case enforce it: for very just, very fit, very needful it is to practise thus. There is ever at hand abun- dant reason for, and apposite matter of, devo- tion; therefore no large space of time should pass without it: there be perpetually depending many causes thereof; whence there is not to be allowed any long vacation from it. As every moment we from God’s mercy and bounty partake great favours; so should we often render thanks and praise for them: for perpetually to receive courte- sies, and rarely to return acknowledgments, is notorious ingratitude and iniquity. We frequently (and in a manner continually) do fall into sins; often therefore we are obliged to confess sins, we are concerned to deprecate wrath, and beg mercy; otherwise we must long crouch under the sore burden of guilt, the sad dread of punishment, the 21—2
324 The Duty of Prayer.
wings bitter pangs of remorse, or the desperate hazard of
stupid obduration. Whatever we design or under- take, toward the good management and happy success thereof, we (being ignorant and impotent creatures) do need the guidance, the assistance, and the blessing of God; so often therefore it is requisite that we should be seeking and suing for them: if not, we do not only transgress our duties, but fondly neglect or foully betray our own con- cernments. The causes therefore of devotion being so constant, the effects in some correspondence should be frequent.
Such frequency is indeed necessary for the breeding, the nourishment, the growth and im- provement of all piety. Devotion is that holy and heavenly fire, which darteth into our minds the light of spiritual knowledge, which kindleth in our hearts the warmth of holy desires: if therefore we do continue long absent from it, a night of dark- ness will overspread our minds, a deadening cold- ness will seize upon our affections. It is the best food of our souls, which preserveth their life and health, which repaireth their strength and vigour, which rendereth them lusty and active: if we therefore long abstain from it, we shall starve or pine away; we shall be faint and feeble in all reli- gious performances; we shall have none at all, or a very languid and meagre piety.
To maintain in us a constant and steady dispo- sition to obedience, to correct our perverse inclina- tions, to curb our unruly passions, to strengthen us against temptations, to comfort us in anxieties and distresses, we do need continual supplies of grace from God; the which ordinarily are commu-
The Duty of Prayer. 325
nicated in devotion, as the channel which convey- eth, or the instrument which helpeth to procure it, or the condition upon which it is granted. Faith, hope, love, spiritual comfort, and joy, all divine graces are chiefly elicited, expressed, exercised therein and thereby: it is therefore needful that it should frequently be used; seeing otherwise we shall be in danger to fail in discharging our chief duties, and to want the best graces.
It is frequency of devotion also, which main- taineth that friendship with God which is the soul of piety. As familiar conversation (wherein men do express their minds and affections mutually) breedeth acquaintance, and cherisheth good-will of men to one another; but long forbearance thereof dissolveth or slakeneth the bonds of amity, break- ing their intimacy, and cooling their kindness: so is it in respect to God; it is frequent converse with him which begetteth a particular acquaintance with him, a mindful regard of him, a hearty liking to him, a delightful taste of his goodness, and con- sequently a sincere and solid good-will toward him ; but intermission thereof produceth estrangement or enmity toward him. If we seldom come at God, we shall little know him, not much care for him, scarce remember him, rest insensible of his love, and regardless of his favour; a coldness, a shyness, a distaste, an antipathy toward him will by degrees creep upon us. Abstinence from his company and presence will cast us into conversa- tions destructive or prejudicial to our friendship with him; wherein soon we shall contract familiar- ity and friendship with his enemies, (the world and the flesh,) which are inconsistent with love to
326 Lhe Duty of Prayer.
— him, which will dispose us to forget him, or to dis- ———— like and loathe him. It is, in fine, the frequency of devotion which alone can secure any practice thereof, at least any practice thereof duly qualified: so hearty, so easy, so sweet and delightful as it should be. We have all a natural averseness or indisposition thereto, as requiring an abstraction of thoughts and affections from sensible things, and a fastening them upon objects purely spiritual; a rearing our heavy spirits above their common pitch; a staying and settling our roving fancies; a composing our vain hearts in a sober and steady frame, agreeable to devotion: to effect which things is a matter of no small diffi- culty and pain; which therefore, without much use and exercise, cannot be accomplished; but with it, may; so that by frequent practice, the bent of our heart being turned, the strangeness of the thing ceasing, the difficulty of the work beg surmount-— ed, we shall obtain a good propension to the duty, and a great satisfaction therein. This will render the way into God’s presence smooth and passable; removing, as all other obsta- cles, so particularly those of fear and doubt in respect to God, which may deter or discourage us from approaching to him. God being most holy and pure, most great and glorious, we, sensible of our corruption and vileness, may be fearful and shy of coming near unto him. But when, coming Eoclus. fi. into his presence, we do find that Such as his Ps. xxxiy. majesty vs, such is his mercy; when we do Taste and : see that the Lord is good; when by experience we Prox feel, that In his presence there is fulness of joy;
being Abundantly satisfied with the fatness of his
The Duty of Prayer. 327
house; having our souls there Satisfied as with pL marrow and Hanan finding, that A day in his courts ws better than a Aad spent otherwhere ; ae = perceiving that he biddeth us welcome, that he 1° treateth us kindly, that he sendeth us away re- freshed with sweetest comforts, and rewarded with most excellent benefits; this will not only reconcile our hearts to devotion, but draw us into a cordial liking and earnest desire thereof; such as the Psalmist expresseth, when he saith, My soul long- Ps. teaiv. eth, yea, even fainteth, for the courts of the Lord: my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God. This will engage us into strong resolutions of con- stantly practising it; such as the same holy person again declareth in these words; I love the Lord, Ps. exvi. because he hath heard my voice and my suppli- ° ~ cations; because he hath inclined his ear unto me, therefore will I call upon him as long as I live. Hence, instead of a suspicious estrangedness, a ser- vile dread, or an hostile disaffection toward God, there will spring up an humble confidence, a kindly reverence, a hearty love toward him; which will upon all occasions drive us to him, hoping for his friendly succour, longing after his kind embraces. So will the frequency of devotion render it facile and pleasant. Whereas, on the contrary, disuse thereof will make it at any time hard and irk- some; strengthening and increasing our natural averseness thereto: performing it seldom, we shall never perform it well, with that attention, that affection, that promptitude, that willingness and alacrity, which are due thereto.
According to so many senses, in so many re-
328 The Duty of Prayer.
SERM. spects, may we, and should we observe this pre- __ cept. From thus praying continually there can be no good exception or just excuse. The most com- mon pleas that will be alleged for the omission thereof are two; one drawn from external avoca- tions, the other from internal indispositions ob- structing it: both of which are so far from being good, that, being scanned, they will soon appear serving rather to aggravate than to excuse or
abate the neglect.
I. I cannot, saith one, now attend to prayers, because I am not at liberty, or at leisure, being urgently called away, and otherwise engaged by important affairs. How much a flam this apology is we shall presently descry, by asking a few ques- tions about it.
1 Do we take devotion itself to be no business, or a business of no consideration? Do we conceit, when we pay God his debts, or discharge our duties toward him, when we crave his aid or mercy, when we solicit the main concernments of our soul, (yea, of our body also and its estate,) that we are idle or misemployed; that we lavish our time, or lose our pains?
2 What other affairs can we have of greater moment or necessity than this? Can there be any obligation more indispensable than is that of yield- ing due respect and service to our Maker, our ereat Patron, our most liberal Benefactor? Can there be any interest more close or weighty than
Inke x, this, of providing for our soul’s eternal health and 42. happiness? Is not this indeed the grand work,
Job xxiii.
12. The only necessary matter, in comparison whereto
The Duty of Prayer. 329
all other occupations are mere trifling, or unprofit-
SERM. IX.
able fiddling about nothing’? What will all other ———
business signify, what will come of it, if this be neglected? Busy we may be, we may plod, we may drudge eternally; but all to no end. All our care is in effect improvidence, all our industry may be well reckoned idleness, if God be not served, if our souls are not secured.
3 If we survey and prize all worldly businesses, which among them will appear so importunate as to demand, so greedy as to devour, so worthy at least as to deserve all our time, that we cannot spare a few minutes for maintaining our most plea- sant intercourse, and most gainful commerce with heaven? What are the great businesses of the world? what but scraping and scrambling for pelf, contriving and compassing designs of ambition, courting the favour and respect of men, making provision for carnal pleasure, gratifying’ fond cu- riosity or vain humour? And do any of these deserve to be put into the scale against, shall all of them together be able to sway down our spiri- tual employments? Shall these images, these sha- dows of business, supplant or crowd our devotion; that which procureth wealth inestimably precious, pleasure infinitely satisfactory, honour incompara- bly noble above all this world can afford? If the expense of time be, as the philosopher‘ said, ModuTe- Aé€ctatov avadkwna, The most precious expense that can be; how can it better be laid out than upon
BoA Téxvat TOV TioTav emepyta ciow’ epyov b€ 4 bcoaéBetva.— Const. Apost. 1m. 61. (Cot. Pat. Apost. Tom. 1. p. 269.]
* Theophr. [Suvexés re €Xeye moduteAes dvddopa eivat Tov xpd- vov.—Diog. Laert. (Vit. Theoph.) v. 2. 10]
330 The Duty of Prayer.
SERM. the worthiest things, such as devotion alone can
afford the purchase and possession of? True vir- tue, sound wisdom, a quiet conscience, and steady tranquillity of mind, the love and favour of God, a title unto endless joy and bliss, are purely the gifts of Heaven; and thence they will not descend of themselves, but prayer must fetch them down. If nothing then in the world be comparable to those things, how can any time be so well spent as in prayer, which acquireth them; which also best secureth whatever we have, and is the readiest way to procure whatever we want?
4 Should we not further, honestly comparing things, easily discern, that it is no such indispens- able business, but rather indeed some base dotage on lucre, some inveigling bait of pleasure, some bewitching transport of fancy, that crosseth our devotion? Is it not often a complimental visit, an appointment to tattle or to tipple, a match for sport, a wild ramble in vice or folly, that so deeply engageth us to put off our duty?
5 Yea, is it not commonly sloth rather than activity, an averseness from this, rather than an inclination to any other employment, which divert- eth us from our prayers? Is not, I say, the true reason why we pray so seldom, not because we are very busy, but because we are extremely idle; so idle, that we cannot willingly take the pains to un- screw our affections from sensible things, to reduce our wandering thoughts, to compose our hearts into a right frame, to bend our untoward inclina- tions to a compliance with our duty? Is it not because we do not feel that savour and satisfaction in these, which we do in other trivial and worth-
The Duty of Prayer. 331
less employments, nor will be at the trouble to SERM. work such dispositions in our souls? Do we not : betake ourselves to other conversations and com- merces merely for refuge, shunning this intercourse with God and with ourselves? These, I fear, are oftener the real causes of our neglecting devotion, than any such mighty avocations which we pre- tend.
6 But were there indeed not only a counterfeit or imaginary, but a real competition between devo- tion and other lawful business, which, in reason, should carry it? in conscience, which of the two should be forborne or suspended? Is it not evi- dently better, that the pursuit of our temporal inter- ests, whatever they be, should be a lttlec hecked, than that our affairs of everlasting consequence should be quite laid aside? that we should venture a small impairme of our estate, than surely enda- mage our souls; that we hazard to disappoimt or displease a man, than dare to affront and offend the Almighty God?
7 Were it not strangely absurd and unhand- some to say, I cannot wait on God, because I must speak with a friend; I cannot go to church, although God calleth me thither, because I must haste to market; I cannot stand to pray, because J am to receive money, or to make up a bargain ; I cannot discharge my duty to God, because a greater obligation than that doth le upon me? How unconceivable an honour, how unvyaluable a benefit is it, that the mcomprehensibly great and glorious majesty of heaven doth vouchsafe us the liberty to approach so near unto him, to converse so freely with him, to demand and derive from his
332 The Duty of Prayer.
SERM. hand the supply of all our needs, and satisfaction ’__ of all our reasonable desires! and is it then just or seemly, by such comparisons to disparage his favour, by such pretences to baffle with his good-
ness ?
Put the case, our prince should call for us to speak with him about matters nearly touching his service and our welfare; would it be according unto duty, discretion, or decency, to reply, that we are at present busy, and have no leisure, and must therefore hold ourselves excused; but that if he will stay a while, at another time, when we have less to do, we shall be perhaps disposed to wait upon him? The case is propounded by our Lord in that parable, wherein God is represented as a great man, that had prepared a feast, and invited many guests thereto; but they excused themselves:
Matt. xxii. One said, that he had purchased land, and must
2, &e. .
Luke xiv. needs go out to see it; another had bought five yoke
a of oxen, and must go to prove them; another had married a wife, and therefore could not come. These indeed were affairs considerable, as this world hath any; but yet the excuses did not satisfy*: for, notwithstanding, the great person was angry, and took the neglect in huge disdain.
8 Moreover, if we reflect what vast portions of time we squander away upon our petty matters, upon voluptuous enjoyments, upon fruitless pas- times, upon impertinent talk; how can we satisfy ourselves in not allotting competent time for God’s service, our own salvation, and the future ever- lasting state? Doth not he, who, with the con-
4 "Erera ore oxjyis tadra Kai wpdépacis, &c.—Chrys. in Joh. Ilom. x1. [Opp. Tom. 1m. p. 597.)
The Duty of Prayer. 339
tinuance of our life, bestoweth on us all our time, deserve that a pittance of it should be reserved for himself? Can all the world duly claim so great an allowance thereof. May not our soul (which is far our noblest part, which indeed is all ourselves) justly challenge a good share of our time to be expended on it? or shall this mortal husk engross it all? Must eternity, which comprehendeth all time, have no time belonging to it, or allotted for its concernments ?
g Again, is it not great imprudence so to lay our business, that any other matter shall thwart or thrust out devotion? Tasily with a little provi- dence may things be so ordered, that it, without interfering or justling, may well consist with all other both needful business and convenient diver- tisement; so that it shall neither obstruct them, nor they extrude it: and are we not very culpable, if we do not use so much providence® ?
10 In truth, attending upon devotion can be no obstacle, but will be great furtherance to all other good business. It is the most sure, most pleasant, most advantageous and compendious way of transacting affairs, to mix prayers and praises with them; it is the best oil that can be, to make the wheels of action go on smoothly and speedily: it not only sanctifieth our undertakings, but much promoteth and exceedingly sweeteneth the ma- nagement of them. For the conscience of having rendered unto God his due respect and service, of having intrusted our affairs to his care, of having
e ~ ‘ > A - » r a ‘A A x ~ 6 , IIparov pv, a’to todro &ykAnpa ov puixpov, TO KvKAovGOaL ToTOv-
cr col o Tov mpaypdtev mAnOeL, Kal Tots Biwtikois oUTw TpoonrAdo Gar Sia Tavros,
os pnd puxpay cis Ta MdvT@Y dvaykatdrepa ayew TXoAnv.—[Id. ibid.]
SERM. IX.
304 The Duty of Prayer.
Sena. consequently engaged his protection and assistance for us, will dispose us to do things with a coura- geous alacrity and comfortable satisfaction; will fill us with a good hope of prospering; will pre- pare us however to be satisfied with the event, whatever it shall be; will in effect procure a bless- ing and happy success, such as we may truly rejoice and triumph in, as conferred by God in favour to us. Whereas neglecting these duties, we can have no solid content or savoury com- placence in any thing we undertake: reflecting on such misbehaviour (if we be not downright infidels, or obdurate reprobates in impiety) will quash or damp our courage: having thence forfeited all pre- tence to God’s succour, and provoked him to cross us, we must needs suspect disappomtment: as we have no reasonable ground to hope for success; so we cannot, if success arriveth, be heartily satisfied therein, or take it for a blessing.
He therefore that is such a niggard of his time, that he grudgeth to withhold any part thereof from his worldly occasions, deeming all time cast away that is laid out in waiting upon God, is really most unthrifty and prodigal thereof: by not sparing a little, he wasteth all his time to no purpose; by so eagerly pursuing, he effectually setteth back his designs; by preposterously affecting to despatch his affairs, he rendereth them endless, or which is the same, altogether unprofitable.
In fine, we may be sure that no time is spent even so prudently and politicly, with so great advantage and so real fruit to ourselves, as that which is employed upon devotion. In sacrificing his time, his pains, his substance, any thing he
The Duty of Prayer. 335
hath or can do, to God’s service, no man can be a —
loser. —__— We have also many examples plainly demon-
strating the consistency of this practice with all
other business. Who ever had more or greater
affairs to manage, and who ever managed them
with greater success, than David; upon whom did
lie the burden of a royal estate, and the care over
a most populous nation; the which He fed with a Ps. bxxviii.
faithful and true heart, and ruled prudently with
all his power; who waged great wars, vanquished
mighty enemies, achieved many glorious exploits,
underwent many grievous troubles? Yet could
not such engagements distract or depress his mind
from a constant attendance on devotion. J will Ps. xxxiv.
bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall be con- ixxi. 6;
tinually in my mouth. My mouth shall shew forth exiv. 2;
thy righteousness and thy salvation all the day. I» ape
will abide in thy tabernacle for ever. So he de *
clareth his resolution and his practice. Who is
more pressingly employed than was Daniel, first
president over so vast a kingdom, chief minister of
state to the greatest monarch on earth? yet con-
stantly Thrice a day did he pray and give thanks Dan. vi.
wnto lis God. Who can be more entangled in vari-
eties and intricacies of care, of pains, of trouble, than
was he that prescribeth unto us this rule of praying
continually 2 Upon him did lie The care of all 2 Con Ze
the churches; Night and day with labour and toil 2 Thess. ii
did he work for the sustenance of his life, that he ~
might not (to the disparagement of the Gospel)
burden any man; perpetually he was engaged in
all sorts of labour and travail, ever conflicting with
perils, with wants, with inconveniences numberless:
SE i
RM. Xx.
336 The Duty of Prayer.
yet did he exactly conform his practice to his rule, being no less indefatigable and incessant in his devotion than he was in his business. Who ever managed a greater empire than Constantine? Yet Every day, as Eusebius reporteth, at stated times, shutting himself up, he alone privately did converse with his God‘. The most pious men indeed have never been idle or careless men, but always most busy and active, most industrious in their callings, most provident for their families, most officious toward their friends, most ready to serve their country, most abundant in all good works; yet have they always been most constant in devotion. So that experience clearly doth evidence, how. reconcileable much devotion is to much business; and that consequently the prosecution of the one cannot well palliate the neglect of the other.
II. No better can any man ward himself from blame, by imputing the neglect of devotion to some indisposition within him thereto. For this is only to cover one fault with another, or to lay on a patch more ugly than the sore. It is, in effect, to say we may sin, because we have a mind to it, or care not to do otherwise. Our indisposi- tion itself is criminal; and, as signifying somewhat habitual or settled, is worse than a single omission: it ought therefore to be corrected and cured; and the way to do it is, by setting presently upon the practice of the duty, and persisting resolutely therein: otherwise how is it possible that 1t should ever be removed? The longer we forbear it, the
f Kaipois éxdotns rjépas takrois éavrov eyk\elwv, pdvos pdve TO aité mpogwpiie. Gcd.—Euseb. de Vita Const. 1v. 22. [Tom. I. p. 637.]
The Duty of Prayer. 337
more seldom we perform it, the stronger surely sett will our indisposition grow, and the more difficult ———— it will be to remove it. But if (with any degree
of seriousness and good intention) we come indis-
posed to prayer, we may thereby be formed into
better disposition, and by continual attendance thereon, we shall (God’s grace cooperating, which
never is wanting to serious and honest intentions)
grow toward a perfect fitness for it: prayer by degrees will become natural and delightful to us.
Bee VOL: I: 22
SERMON X-
OF THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING.
Epuzs. V. 20. Giving thanks always for all things unto God.
ee fais words, although (as the very syntax —— + doth immediately discover) they bear a relation to, and have a fit coherence with, those that pre- cede, may yet, (especially considering St Paul’s style and manner of expression* in the preceptive
® [St Mary’s, Aug. 17, 1662. MS.]
* It is the usual manner of St Paul, (who, out of a good heart inflamed with devout piety towards God, and cordial charity to men, is wont to pour forth abundance of excellent precepts and seasonable admonitions) by a special artifice so to order his discourses, that those duties, which have a near affinity between themselves, springing from the same root, grounded on the same reason, or tending to the same end, may not be dissevered from each other by becom- ing the matter of different exhortations ; but coupled rather and connected together by a common relation to some one more general or more principal duty, wherein they are in- cluded, or upon which by some causality or consequence they depend; which general or principal duties expressing in the imperative mood, the others he subjoins as accesso- ries to them, and parts of their train by means of participles, or of adjectives equivalent. I shall not need to spend time in exemplifying that, which to him, who with competent
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 339
and exhortative part of his Kpistles,) without any violence or prejudice on either hand, be severed from the context, and considered distinctly by themselves. And (to avoid encumbrance by fur- ther comparison) so taking them we may observe, that every single word among them carries with it something of notable emphasis and especial signi- ficancy. The first Giving thanks expresses the sub- stance of a duty, to which we are exhorted. The next (I mean, in order of construction) to God, denotes the object or term to which it is directed. The following always determines the main circum-
attention peruses the original scripture is every where observ- able; especially in that rich treasury of wholesome advices, the 12th chapter of the Epistle to the Romans: where often what is in the Greek couched in participles and adjectives is by our translators understood and rendered imperatively ; and what there is introduced in way of relative dependence, is interpreted as spoken absolutely and distinctly. In such manner here the particular and consequent duties of praising and thanking God for his mercies and benefits are annexed (by this form of syntax) to that original and most compre- hensive duty of being replenished with the Divine Spirit, from which as all other gracious dispositions, so more espe- cially this of devout gratitude to God, doth immediately result and is derived. Although therefore as to the form and manner of speech, these words do not precisely constitute an entire sentence of themselves, and do manifestly contain a respect to those, which precede in the next verse save one, Be filled with the Spirit; yet considering St Paul’s way of expressing his mind and the nature of the matter it- itself, (designing to avoid encumbrance in our discourse) we need not scruple to take them as an absolutely distinct ex- hortation and to pronounce them thus: Give thanks always for all things unto God. MS. 22—2
SERM. Xx.
SERM.
340 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
stance of this and all other duties, the time of per-
“formance. The last for all things, declares the
Ps. cvii.43.
Ps. lxiv. 9.
Ps. exi. 2.
Ps. xxxiyv.
adequate matter of the duty, and how far it should extend. These particulars I shall consider seve- rally, and in order.
I. First then, concerning the duty itself, To give thanks, or rather, to be thankful; (for Evyapr- otew doth not only signify Gratias agere, reddere, dicere, to give, render, or declare thanks, but also Gratias habere, grate affectum esse, to be thankfully disposed, to entertain a grateful affection, sense, or memory: in which more comprehensive notion I mean to consider it, as including the whole duty or virtue of gratitude due to Almighty God for all his benefits, favours, and mercies ;) I say, concern- ing this duty itself, (abstractedly considered,) as it involves a respect to benefits or good things received ; so in its employment about them it imports, requires, or supposes these following parti- culars.
rt It implies a right apprehension of, and con- sequently a considerate attention unto, benefits conferred. For he that is either wholly ignorant of his obligations, or mistakes them, or passes them over with a slight and superficial view, can nowise be grateful. Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, even they shall understand the lovingkind- ness of the Lord. Men shall fear, and shall declare the work of God; for they shall wisely consider of his doings. The works of the Lord are great, sought out of all that have pleasure therein. O taste (first, and then) see that the Lord is good.
This is the method that great master of thanks- — giving prescribes ; first experimental notice, then —
os
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 341
wise consideration, then grateful sense, then public SERM. acknowledgment. And those we find both by him : and by the prophet Isaias (in the very same words) reprehended as wickedly ingrateful persons, who Regarded not the work of the Lord, nor considered Ps. xxviii. the operation of his hands. "Tis part therefore of isi. v.12. this duty incumbent on us, to take notice of dili- gently, and carefully to consider, the divine bene-
fits; not to let them pass undiscerned and unre- garded by us, as persons either wofully blind, or stupidly drowsy, or totally unconcerned.
"Tis a general fault, that the most common and frequent, the most obvious and conspicuous fa- vours of God, (like the ordmary phenomena of nature, which, as Aristotle observes, though in themselves most admirable, are yet least admired,) the constant rising of the sun upon us, the descent of fruitful showers, the recourse of temperate sea- sons, the continuance of our life, the enjoyment of health, the providential dispensation of wealth, and competent means of livelihood, the daily pro- tection from incident dangers, the helps of improv- ing knowledge, obtaining virtue, becoming happy, and such like most excellent benefits, we com- monly little mind or regard, and consequently seldom return the thanks due for them. Possibly some rare accidents of providence, some extraor- dinary judgment, some miraculous deliverance, may rouse and awaken our attention: (as it is said of the Israelites, When he slew them, then they sought Ps. xxviii. him—and remembered that God was their rock, *? ** and the high God their Redeemer :) but such ad- vertency is not the effect so much of gratitude, as of curiosity or of necessity: the notable rarity
342 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
SEEM, invites, or some powerful impulse commands our “__ notice. But the truly grateful industriously de- sign, and are studious to know, throughly their obligations, that they may be able to render an- swerable returns for them.
2 This duty requires a faithful retention of benefits in memory’, and consequently fre- quent reflections upon them. For he that is no longer. affected with a benefit than it mceurs the sense, and suffers not itself to be disregarded, is far from being grateful; nay, if we believe the philosopher, is ingrateful in the worst kind and highest degree. or, Ingratus est, saith he, qui beneficium accepisse se negat, quod accepit ; ingra- tus est, gu dissimulat ; ingratus, qui non reddit : mgratissimus omniwm, que oblitus est. He that falsely denies the reception of a benefit, and he that dissembles it, and he that doth not repay i, ts in- grateful ; but most ingrateful of all rs he that forgets w°. It is a sign the benefit made no deep impres- sion on his mind, since it left no discernible foot- step there; that he hardly ever thought of making recompense, since he hath suffered himself to be- come altogether uncapable of doing it: neither is there any hope of his amending the past neglect ; no shame, no repentance, no fair occasion can redeem him from ingratitude, in whom the very remembrance of his obligation is extinguished.
If to be sensible of a present good turn de- served the title of gratitude, all men certainly
would be grateful : the Jews questionless were so. P ‘Axapioros, Gotis ed maddy apyynporel.
[Menand. Sentent. sing. 10. Ed, Meineke.]
* Sen. de Benef. m1. [1. 2.] uv
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 343
When Almighty God, by his wonderful power in SERM. extraordinary ways, delivered them from the ty- s ranny and oppression of their prevalent enemies ; when he caused streams to gush forth from the bowels of a hard rock to refresh their thirst ; when bread descended from heaven in showers, and the winds were winged with flesh, to satisfy their greedy desires; then surely they were not alto- gether unsensible of the divine goodness; then could they acknowledge his power, and be forward enough to engage themselves in promises of corre- spondent observance toward him for the future. But the mischief was, immediately after, as the Psalmist complains, They forgat his works, and the Ps. xviii. wonders he had shewed them: They remembered’ *” not lis hand, nor the day when he delivered them Jrom the enemy. They refused to obey, neither were Neb.ix.x7. mindful of the wonders that God did among them, as Nehemiah confesses in their behalf. Of the rock age that begat them they were unnundful, and forgot the God that formed them, as it is in Deuteronomy. They distrusted his promises, repined at his deal- ings, disobeyed his laws, and treacherously apo- statised from his covenant. Such were the fruits of their ingrateful forgetfulness ; which therefore that people is so often charged with, and so sharply reproved for by the prophets. ~
On the contrary, we find that great pattern of eratitude, the royal prophet David, continually revolying in his thoughts, imprinting upon his fancy, studying and meditating upon, recollecting and renewing in his memory, the results of divine favour. I will remember, saith he, thy wonders of Ps. xxvii,
rt, ate
old; I will meditate of an thy works, and talk of extii. s;
SERM. x
Cill. 2; XXVi. 3.
Perla. 5;
» 7s
344 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
thy doings: and, I remember the days of old; I
will meditate on all thy works ; I muse on the works of thy hands: and, Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits: and, My mouth shall praise thee with joyful lips, when I remember thee upon my bed, and meditate on thee in the night- watches, because thou hast been my help. No place unfit, it seems, no time unseasonable for the prac- tice of this duty ; not the place designed for rest, not the time due to sleep, but, as David thought, more due to a wakeful contemplation of the divine goodness. Whose vigilant gratitude we should strive to imitate, devoting our most solitary and retired, our most sad and serious thoughts (not the studies only of our closet, but the consultations also of our pillow) to the preservation of those blessed ideas; that neither length of time may deface them in our fancy, nor other care extrude them thence.
It was a satirical answer, (that of Aristotle,) and highly opprobrious to mankind; who, being asked, Ti tayiorov ynpacxe.; What doth the soonest grow old? replied, Xapis, Thanks‘: and so was that adagial verse, “Ap’ 7Aénrat kat TEOvnKev 7 apis. No sooner the courtesy born, than the resentment thereof dead*. Such reproachful aphorisms we should labour to confute, especially as they are applicable to the divine favours, by so maintaining and cherishing our thanks for them, that they nei- ther decay with age, nor prematurely die, nor be buried in oblivion ; but may resemble the pictures
1 ('Eparnbeis ti ynpdoxer tax’, Xdpis, &pn.—Diog. Laert. (Vit. Arist.) v. 1. 11.] ® (Menand. Epig. p. 299. Ed. Meineke.]
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 345
and poetical descriptions of the Graces, those SERM. goodly daughters of heaven, smiling always with a never-fading serenity of countenance, and flourish- ing in an immortal youth.
The middle, we may observe, and the safest, and the fairest, and the most conspicuous places in cities are usually deputed for the erections of sta- tues and monuments dedicated to the memory of worthy men, who have nobly deserved of their countries. In like manner should we in the heart and centre of our soul, in the best and highest apartments thereof, in the places most exposed to ordinary observation, and most secure from the invasions of worldly care, erect lively representa- tions of, and lasting memorials unto, the divine bounty ; constantly attending to which we may be disposed to gratitude. Not one blessing, not the least favourable passage of providence ought to perish with us, though long since passed, and removed out of the sphere of present sense.
We must not in our old age forget who formed Ps. Ixxi. 6. us in the womb, who brought us into the light, who suckled our infancy, who educated our childhood, who governed our youth, who conducted our man- hood through the manifold hazards, troubles, and disasters of life. Nor in our prosperity, our afflu- ence of good things, our possession of Canaan, Deut. vi. should we be unmindful of him who relieved us in ‘7 *"""” our straits, who supplied our wants, sustained our adversity, who redeemed us from Egypt, and led us through the wilderness. A succession of new and fresh benefits should not (as among some savages, the manner is for the young to make away
SERM. b.S
346 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
the old) supplant and expunge ancient ones, but make them rather more dear and venerable to us. Time should not weaken or diminish, but rather confirm and radicate in us the remembrance of God’s goodness; to render it, as it doth gold and wine, more precious and more strong. We have usually a memory more than enough tenacious of injuries and ill turns done to us: let it never be said, to the disgrace of that noble faculty, that we can hardly forget the discourtesies of man, but not easily remember the favours of God. But fur- ther,
3 This duty implies a due esteem and valua- tion of benefits; that the nature and quality, the measure and quantity, the circumstances and con- sequences of them be well expended; else the gra- titude is like to be none, or very defective. For we commensurate our thankfulness, not so much to the intrinsic excellency of things, as to our peculiar estimations of them. A cynic perhaps would not return more thanks for a diamond than for a pebble; nor more gratefully receive a talent of gold than an ounce of copper; because he equally values, or rather alike contemns both.
Wherefore we find (our never-to-be-forgotten) example, the devout thanksgiver, David, conti- nually declaring the great price he set upon the divine favours; admiring and displaying their transcendent perfections, their wonderful greatness, their boundless extension, their excessive multitude, their endless duration, their advantageous cireum- stances, (the excellent needfulness, convenience, and seasonableness of them; together with the admi-
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 347
rable freeness, wisdom, and power of the Bene- Sates factor, shining forth im and by them.) J will ——— praise thee, 0. Lord, saith he, among the people, I | aes will sing unto thee among the nations: for thy mere y as great unto the heavens, and thy faithfulness reach- eth unto the clouds. And, Remember the marvellous Ps-ev- 5,7: works that he hath done, his wonders, and the judg- ments of his mouth. He is the Lord our God, his judgments are im all the earth. And again, Thy Ps.xxvi. mercy, O Lord, is in the heavens, thy faithfulness ie reacheth unto the clouds. Thy righteousness is like the great mountains; thy judgments are a great deep: O Lord, thou preservest man and beast. How excellent 1s thy lovingkindness, O God! and, dee How precious are thy thoughts unto me, O Lord! oe O how great ts the sum of them! If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand. And again, His work is honourable and glorious, his Ps.cxi. 3. righteousness endureth for ever: and, The Lord is Ps. cxlv. 9. good to all, and his tender mercies are over all his works: and, Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth Ps. \xviii. us with lis benefits. a
In such manner ought we diligently to survey and judiciously to estimate the effects of divine beneficence, examining every part, and descanting upon every circumstance thereof: like those that contemplate some rare beauty, or some excellent picture; some commending the exact proportions, some the graceful features, some the lively colours discernible therein. There is not the least of the divine favours, which, if we consider the conde- scensive tenderness, the clear intention, the unde- served frankness, the cheerful debonairity expressed therein, hath not dimensions larger than our com-
348 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
SERM. prehension, colours too fair, and lineaments too
‘__ comely for our weak sight thoroughly to discern;
requiring therefore our highest esteem and our utmost thanks.
"Tis perhaps somewhat dangerous to affix a determinate value upon any of God’s benefits: (for to value them seems to undervalue them, they being really inestimable:) what then is it to ex- tenuate, to vilify, to despise the greatest? We should esteem them, as we measure the heavens with our eye, as we compute the sands upon the shore, as we would prize inexhaustible mines of gold, and treasures of pearl; that is, by confessing heartily their worth surpasses the strength of our imagination to conceive, and of our speech to utter ; that they are immense, innumerable, unconceivable, and unexpressible. But still,
4 Giving thanks iwnports, that benefits be received with a willing mind, a hearty sense, a vehement affection. The forementioned particulars are indeed necessary properties, inseparable con- comitants, or prerequisite conditions to: but a cheerful and cordial acceptance of benefits is the form, as it were, and soul, the life and spirit, the principal and most essential ingredient of this duty.
It was not altogether unreasonable, though it went for a paradox, that dictate of the Stoics, that Suficit animus animo, and, that Qui libenter acci- pit beneficium, reddidit’; that he, who with a will- ing and well-affected mind receives a courtesy, hath fully discharged the duty of gratitude; that other endeavours of return and compensation are
f [Sen. de Ben. 1. 31.]
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 349
rather handsome accessions to it, than indispensably oe requisite to the completion thereof. For as in the —— collation, it is not the gold or the silver, the food or the apparel, in which the benefit consists, but the will and benevolent intention of him that be- stows them ; so reciprocally it is the good accept- ance, the sensibleness of, and acquiescence in the benefactor’s goodness, that constitutes the grati- tude; which who affords, though he be never capable of yielding other satisfaction, Voluntate voluntati satisfecit; and, Regum cequabat opes anmis® It is mgenuity that constitutes (respectively) both a bountiful giver and a thankful receiver. A truly noble benefactor purely aimeth at, not any material reward or advantage to him- self; (it were trading this, not beneficence ;) but the good, profit, and content of him, to whom he dispenseth his favour: of which being assured, he rests satisfied, and accounts himself royally recom- pensed".
Such a benefactor is Almighty God, and such a tribute he requires of us; a ready embracement of, and a joyful complacency in his kindness ; even such as he expressed, who said, Because thy loving- Ps. \xiii. 3; kindness is better than life, my lips shall praise thee: oer
Ib:oht eat = 1X; Te 2s
& [Virg. Georg. Iv. 132 ]
2 Quoties quod proposuit quis consequitur, capit operis sui fructum. Qui beneficium dat, quid proponit? prodesse ei cui dat, et voluptati sibi esse. Si quod voluit, effecit, pervenitque ad me munus ejus, ac mutuo gaudio affecit, tulit quod petiit. Non enim sibi invicem aliquid reddi voluit; aut non fuit beneficium sed negotiatio . .. Habet quod voluit, si bene acceptum est. Sed spe- ravit emolumentum aliquod: non fuit hoc beneficium, cujus pro- prium est, nihil de reditu cogitare.—Senec. [De Benef. u. 31.]
Nec est dubium, quin is, qui liberalis benignusve dicitur, officium, non fructum, sequatur.—Cic. de Leg. 1. [18. 48.]
SERM.
Ws; ell;
2 Cor. ix. a
Acts xiv. 17
Ps. lxxviii. 30, 31.
350 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
and, My soul shall be filled as with marrow and JSatness, and my mouth shall praise thee with joyful lips: and, I will praise thee with my whole heart ; I will be glad and rejoice in thee: and, Bless the Lord, O my soul; and all that is within me, praise his holy name.
No holocaust is so acceptable to God, as a heart inflamed with a sense of his goodness. He loves not only ‘IAapev corny, (A merry giver), but ‘Tdapov dextyv (A cheerful receiver) also. He would have us, as to desire his favour with a greedy appetite, so to taste it with a savoury relish. He designs not only to fill our mouths with food, but our hearts also with gladness.
We must not seem to grudge or repine, to murmur or disdain, that we are necessitated to be beholden to him ; lest it happen to us as it did to them of whom it is said, While the meat was yet in their mouths, the wrath of God came upon them, and slew the fattest of them. Yea, ’tis our duty not to be contented only, but to be delighted, to be transported, to be ravished with the emanations of his love: to entertain them with such a dispo- sition of mind, as the dry and parched ground imbibes the soft dew and gentle showers ; as the chill and darksome air admits the benign influences of heavenly light ; as the thirsty soul takes in the sweet and cooling stream. He that with a sullen look, a dead heart, a faint sense, a cold hand, em- braces the gifts of heaven, is really unthankful, though with deluges of wine and oil he makes the altars to overflow, and clouds the sky with the steam of his sacrifices. But yet further,
5 This duty requires due acknowledgment of
The Duty of Thanksqwing. 351
our obligation, significations of our notice, declara- SERM. tions of our esteem and good acceptance of favours conferred. It is the worst and most detestable of ingratitudes, that which proceeds from pride and scorn: and such is he guilty of, who is either unwilling or ashamed to confess himself’ obliged ; who purposely dissembles a benefit, or disavows the benefactor ; who refuses to render those most manifestly due, and most easily discharged, those neither toilsome nor expensive oblations of praise and acknowledgment’. This part of our duty requires, that we offer to God, not costly hecatombs, but The calves only of our lips; (as the prophet Hos. xiv.2. Hosea speaks ;) not the fruit of our lands, but Kapzov yeéwv only, (as the apostle to the Hebrews styles it,) The fruit of our lips, confessing to lis name; that we employ some few blasts of the breath he gave us on the celebration of his good- ness, and advancement of his repute. J will praise Ps. kx. the name of God with a song, and will magnify him ge with thanksgiving. This shall please the Lord better than an ox or bullock that hath horns and hoofs, saith David.
And surely it is the least homage we in grati- tude owe and can pay to Almighty God, to avow our dependence upon and obligation to him for the good things we enjoy, to acknowledge that his favours do deserve thanks, to publish to the world our experience of his goodness, to proclaim solemnly with the voice of thanksgiving his most deserved
oie xiii.
1 Obde ydp Bapi re Kai émayxbés emutnred map’ ray, GAN } 7d Gpodoyeiy pdvov Tas Tocavras evepyecias, kal Tas Umep TovTwY aiTa evxaptotias avapepew,—Chrys, [in Gen. Orat. 1x. Opp. Tom. 1. p- 54.]
SERM. X.
oe lxxxix.
Pa, XXvVi. 7.
Ps. exlyv. 5.
Ps. xl. 10.
352 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
praise; resembling him who abounds in such ex- pressions as these: J will sing of the mercies of the Lord for ever; with my mouth will I make known his faith ifuulness to all generations. I will publish with the voice of thanksgiving, and tell of all his wondrous works. I will speak of the glorious honour of thy majesty, and of thy wondrous works. I have not hid thy righteousness in my heart, I have declared thy faithfulness and thy salvation: I have not con- cealed thy lovingkindness and thy truth from the great congregation™.
Thus if a grateful affection live in our hearts, it will respire through our mouths, and discover itself in the motion of our lips. There will be a conspi- racy and faithful correspondence between our mind and our tongue: if the one be sensible, the other will not be silent; as if the spring works, the wheels will turn about, and the bell not fail to speak. Neither shall we content ourselves in lonesome tunes, and private soliloquies, to whisper out the divine praises; but shall loudly excite and provoke others to a melodious consonance with us. We shall, with the sweet singer of Israel, cite and invoke heaven and earth; the celestial choir of angels; the several estates and generations of men, the num- berless company of all the creatures, to assist and join in concert with us, in celebrating the worthy deeds, and magnifying the glorious name of our most mighty Creator, of our most bountiful Be- nefactor.
Gratitude is of a fruitful and diffusive nature, of a free and communicative disposition, of an open
k Vid. Ps. Ixvi. 5: ‘O come hither, and behold the works of God, &c.
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 300
and sociable temper: it will be imparting, discover- aoe ing, and propagating itself: it affects hght, company, : and liberty; it cannot endure to be smothered in privacy and obscurity. Its best instrument there-
fore is speech, that most natural, proper, and easy
mean of conversation, of signifying our conceptions,
of conveying, and as it were transfunding our thoughts and our passions into each other’. This therefore glory of ours, and best organ that we Ps. Wii. 8. have, (as the Psalmist seems to call it,) our tongue,
we should in all reason devote to the honour, and consecrate to the praise of him who made it, and
who conserves it still in tune.
And, the further to provoke us, we may con- sider, that it hath been the manner prompted by nature, and authorized by general practice, for men of all nations, and all times, and all ways, by com- posed hymns and panegyrical elogies, to express their gratitude for the gifts of nature, and for the benefits indulged by Providence; in their public sacrifices and solemn festivities extolling the excel- lent qualities of their imaginary deities, and reciting the famous achievements of their heroes and sup- posed benefactors: to whose favourable help and blessing, in their conceit, they owed the fruits of the earth, the comforts of life, the defence and pa- tronage of their countries: being indeed mistaken in the object, but not transgressing in the substance of the duty; paying a due debt, though to false creditors. And I wish we were as ready to imitate them in the one, as we are, perhaps, prone to blame
1 Yuyy yap, oipat, Wuyx7, kal mvedpa mvevpate ovvarTopeva, Kata THY Tov Adyov omopay, &c.—Clem, Alex. Strom. 1. [Opp. Tom, 1. p. 317.) ‘
B.S. VOL. I. 23
bot The Duty of Thanksgiving.
SERM. them for the other. For, certainly, acknowledg- ments of the divine goodness, and solemn testifica- tions of our thankful sense thereof, (whatever the abused world may now imagine,) was always, is now, and ever will be the principal and most noble part of all religion immediately addressed to God. But moreover, 1 Sam. xii, 6 This duty requires endeavours of real com- cy pensation, and a satisfactory requital of benefits, according to the ability and opportunity of the re- ceiver: that we do not only verbally Dicere, and Agnoscere; but really Agere, and Referre gratias: that to him, who hath by his beneficence obliged us, we minister reciprocal assistance, comfort, and relief, if he need them, and be capable to receive them: how- ever, by evident testimonies to discover our ready disposition to make such real returns; and withal, to suit our actions to his good liking, and in our carriage to comply with his reasonable desires. For, ea is As the earth which drinketh the rain often coming upon i, and, having been by great labour tilled and manured with expense, yieldeth yet no meet herbage Botavy cietor, or fruit agreeable to the expectation of him that dresseth it, but is either wholly barren, or produceth only thorns and briers, 7s (as the apostle to the Hebrews tells us) to be reprobated, and nigh unto cursing; that is, deserves no further care or culture to be employed on it, and is to be reputed desperately worthless: so is he, (that we may apply an apodosis to the apostle’s comparison,) who, daily partaking the influences of divine providence and bounty, affords no answer- able return, to be accounted execrably unthankful,
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 300
and unworthy of any further favour to be shewed ee toward him. ——= "Tis true, our Righteousness (or beneficence, so Ps. xvi. 2. the word there signifies) doth not extend unto God: his benefits exceed all possibility of any proportion- able requital: he doth not need, nor can ever imme- diately receive any advantage from us: we cannot enrich him with our gifts, who by unquestionable right, and in unalterable possession, is Lord and Master of all things that do actually or can possibly exist; nor advance him by our weak commenda- tions, who already enjoyeth the supreme pitch of glory; nor any way contribute to his in itself com- plete and indefectible beatitude. Yet we may by apposite significations declare our willingness to serve and exalt him: we may by our obsequious demeanour highly please and content him: we may, by our charity and benignity to those whose good he tenders, yield (though not an adequate, yet) an acceptable return to his benefits. What shall I Ps. exvi. render unto the Lord for all his benefits? saith *” David, in way of counsel and deliberation: and thereupon resolves, I will take the cup of salvation, Ver.13,14. and call wpon the name of the Lord: I will pay my vows unto the Lord. Seasonable benedictions, offi- cious addresses, and faithful performances of vows, he intimates to bear some shadow at least, some resemblance of compensation. And so did his wise son likewise, when he thus advised, Honour the Prov.iii. 9. Lord with thy substance, and with the first-fruits of thy wmerease. Almighty God, though he really doth, and can- not otherwise do, yet will not seem to bestow his favours altogether gratis, but to expect some com-
23-—2
356 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
SERM. petent return, some small use and income from
Exod.
Xxili. 15.
them. He will assert his rightful title, and be ac- knowledged the chief proprietary, by signal expres- sions of our fealty, and the payment of some, though inconsiderable, quit-rent, for our possessions derived from him: he will rather himself be seemingly in- digent, than permit us to be really ingrateful. For knowing well, that our performance of duty and respect toward him greatly conduceth to our com~ fort and happiness”, he requireth of us such demon- strations of them, as we conveniently are able to exhibit; he appoints services expressive of thank- fulness, exacts tributes and customs, demands loans and benevolences, encourages and accepts free-will offerings from us. Zhou shalt not appear empty before the Lord, was a statute to the Jews, qualified and moderated by certain measures: the first-fruits of their lands, the first-born of their cattle and of themselves, the tenths of their annual increase, and a certain allotment from the spoils acquired in wars, did God challenge to himself, as fitting recompenses due for his bounty to and care over them.
Neither did the Gentiles conceive themselves exempted from the like obligation. For the ‘Acpo@i- va, the top or chief of their corn-heaps, they were wont to consecrate unto him who had blessed their fields with increase; and the “Axpodea, the first and best of the prey, they dedicated to the adornment of his temple by whose favourable disposal they had obtained the victory. Neither would they sooner begin their meal, and partake of their necessary
> Ul ‘ > ~ c ™ "Axnpatos yap avrov 4 ovala Kal avevdens oda, ovdevds érépov - = c ‘ > “ > > mpoadeirar’ of O€ aivovvres abrov, airot Naympdrepa yivovrat.—Chrys.
in Ps. cxtiv. [Opp. Tom. 1. p. 885.]
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 357
refreshment, than, by pouring forth their gratula- SERM. tory libation, they had performed some homage to thea heaven for it. Ovdé tis erry IIpiv micew, mp deiyrar treppeved Kpoviow",
was the custom, it seems, in Homer’s time. I shall not insist upon their ‘AvaOjyaTa, their anniversary or their casual sacrifices; but only observe, (what, if seasonable, might by many sufficient testimonies be evinced,) that those men (at least the most in- telligent of them) were not so senseless as to ima- gine, that the gods, to whom they performed those services, and devoted those oblations, did any wise need, or were truly benefited by them®; but that they esteemed it a comely thing, by the most sig- nificant means they could invent, to declare their grateful sense of the divine goodness and indul- gence toward them.
And though we are, perhaps, disobliged now from the circumstantial manner, yet are we no wise freed from (but rather more strongly engaged to) the substantial performance of this sort of gratitude. Weare to offer still, not dead bulls and goats, but, as St Paul saith, Our own bodies, living sacrifices, holy Rom.xii.r. and acceptable to God. We are excused from mate- rial, but are yet bound to yield Ivevmatixas Ouvoias, Spiritual sacrifices unto God, as St Peter tells us, 1 Pet. ii. 5. We must burn incense still, that of fervent devo- tion; and send up continually to heaven Ovatav aivécews, that Thank-offering of praise, which the Heb. xiii. apostle to the Hebrews mentions, We must con- ‘*
" Hom. Il. [vi 480. ] oO > ‘4 > ne , > A cal ~ Ld iz A , , Od yap, olpat, rowodTdy cote TO TGV Hedy, Gore ind Sépwv mapd- yeoOat olov Kako roxaryy &¢.—Plat. Alcib. 1. [149 E.]
SERM.
358 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
secrate the first-born of our souls, (pure and holy
pierre thoughts,) and the first-fruits of our strength, (our
Prov. xix. 17.
Heb. vi. 10.
rig xili.
most active endeayours,) to God’s service. We must slay our impure desires, mortify our corrupt affections, and abandon our selfish respects for his sake. We must give him our hearts, and present our wills entirely to his disposal. We must vow to him, and pay the daily oblation of sincere obe- dience’. We must officiously attend his pleasure, and labour to content him by an innocent and unblemished conversation. With these things Al- mighty God is effectually gratified; he approves of and accepts these, as real testimonies of our thank- fulness, and competent returns of his benefits. Especially our charity and beneficence, our ex- hibiting love and respect to good men, (his faithful servants and near relations,) our affording help and succour to persons in need and distress, he accounts a suitable retaliation of his kindness, acknowledges to be an obligation laid upon himself, and hath by settled rules and indispensable promises obliged himself to requite them. For, He that hath pity on the poor, lendeth unto the Lord; and that which he hath given, he will pay him again: and, God is not unrighteous, to forget your work and labour of love, which ye have shewed toward his name, in that ye have ministered to the saints, and do minister: and, Zo do good and to communicate, forget not;
Phil iv.17, for with such sacrifices God is well pleased: and, I
desire fruit, saith St Paul to the Philippians, that may abound to your account. But I have all, and abound; I am full, having received of Epaphrodi-
P Mia dyor3) Kuptoratn mapa avOpadrev, radta Spav amep dperra 7@ Oco,—Clem. Alex. Strom. yi. [Opp. Tom. 11. p. 840.]
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 309
tus the things which were sent from you, an odour of ae a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, well pleasing to — God. And, Inasmuch as ye have done it to (that Matt. xxv. is, fed, and clothed, and comforted) the least of these * my brethren, ye have done it unto me, saith our Saviour; manifestly declaring, that the good we do, and the respect we shew unto good and needy men, God reckons it done unto himself.
And this point I shall conclude with the say- ings of the wise Hebrew philosopher Ben-Sirach : He that keepeth the law, bringeth offerings enough: Fees. He that taketh heed to the commandment, offereth 3. ie a peace-ofering. He that requiteth a good turn, offereth fine flour: and he that giveth alms, sacri- ficeth praise. To depart from wickedness is a thing pleasing to the Lord: and to forsake un- righteousness is a propitiation. To these I shall only add this one particular ;
7 That true gratitude for benefits is always attended with the esteem, veneration, and love of the benefactor. Beneficence is a royal and godlike thing, an argument of eminent goodness and power conspiring; and necessarily therefore, as in them that perceive and duly consider it, it begets respect and reverence; so peculiarly in those that feel its benign influence, it produces love and affection: like the heavenly light, which to all that behold it appears glorious; but more powerfully warms those that are directly subject to its rays, and is by them more vigorously reflected.
And as to those that are immediately concerned therein, it imports more particular regard and good- will; so, if they be duly sensible thereof, it engages them in mutual correspondence to an extraordinary
360 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
SERM. esteem and benevolence: such as David upon this account professes to have been in himself toward Ps. xviii, God, and frequently excites others to. J will love ‘a thee, O Lord, my strength. JI will call wpon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised. The Lord liveth, and blessed be my rock; and let the God of my Ps. exvi.r. salvation be exalted. I love the Lord, because he hath heard my voice and my supplications. And, Luke vii. (in the gospel,) Because her sins, being many, were i forgiven, therefore she loved much. So true it is, that sense of favour 4ndulged is naturally productive of love’.
Thus have I plainly and simply presented you with what my meditations suggested concerning the nature and substance of this duty, with the several branches sprouting from the main stock thereof: I proceed now to that which will exceed- ingly enlarge the worth, and engage to the per- formance thereof.
II. The object and term to which it is to be directed ; we are to give thanks to God. To God, I say; that is, to him, unto whom we are obliged, not for some small and inconsiderable trifles, but for the most weighty and valuable benefits: from whom we receive, not few or some, but all good things; whatever is necessary for our sustenance, convenient for our use, pleasant for our enjoyment ; not only those that come immediately from his hand, but what we obtain from others, who from him receive both the will and the power, the means and the opportunities of doing us good: to whom we owe, not only what we ever did or do at present
q Ul , U ; ¢ , ’ ee 4 Xapis xaply yap eat TikTovo aet.
Soph. [Ajax. 522.]
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 361
possess, or can hereafter hope for of good; but that SERAE we were, are, or shall ever be in capacity to receive any: to the author, upholder, and preserver of our being; without whose goodness we had never been, and without whose care we cannot subsist one moment.
To him, who is the Lord and true owner of all things we partake of; whose air we breathe, whose eround we tread on, whose food sustains us; whose wholly we are ourselves, both the bodies we carry about us, (which is the work of his hands,) and the soul we think with, which was breathed from his mouth.
To him, who hath created a whole world to serve us, a spacious, a beautiful, a stately world for us to inhabit and to disport in; who hath sub- jected so fair a territory to our dominion, and con- sioned to our use so numerous a progeny of goodly creatures, to be managed, to be governed, to be enjoyed by us.
So that wherever we direct our eyes, whether we reflect them inward upon ourselves, we behold his goodness to occupy and penetrate the very root and centre of our beings; or extend them abroad toward the things about us, we may perceive our- selves inclosed wholly and surrounded with his benefits. At home we find a comely body framed by his curious artifice, various organs fitly propor- tioned, situated, and tempered for strength, orna- ment, and motion, actuated by a gentle heat, and invigorated with lively spirits, disposed to health, and qualified for a long endurance; subservient to a soul endued with divers senses, faculties, and powers, apt to inquire after, pursue, and perceive
362 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
SERM. various delights and contents. ‘To the satisfaction
of which all extrinsical things do minister matter and help; by his kind disposal, who furnishes our palates with variety of delicious fare, entertains our eyes with pleasant spectacles, ravishes our ears with harmonious sounds, perfumes our nostrils with fragrant odours, cheers our spirits with comfortable gales, fills our hearts with food and gladness, sup- plies our manifold needs, and protects us from innumerable dangers.
To him, who hath inspired us with immortal minds, and impressed upon them perspicuous cha- racters of his own divine essence; hath made us, not in some superficial lineaments, but in our most intimate constitution, to resemble himself, and to partake of his most excellent perfections; an exten- sive knowledge of truth, a vehement complacency in good, a forward capacity of being completely happy, (according to our degree and within our sphere). To which blessed end by all suitable means (of external ministry and interior assistance) he faithfully conducts us; revealing to us the way, urging us in our process, reclaiming us when we deviate; engaging us by his commands, soliciting us by gentle advices, encouraging us by gracious promises; instructing us by his holy word, and ad- monishing us by his loving Spirit.
To him, who vouchsafes to grant us a free ac- cess unto, a constant intercourse and a familiar acquaintance with himself; to esteem and style us his friends and children ; to invite us frequently, and entertain us kindly with those most pleasant delicacies of spiritual repast ; yea, to visit us often at our home, and (if we admit) to abide and dwell
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 363
with us ; indulging us the enjoyment of that pre- SERM. sence, wherein the life of all joy and comfort con- sists, and to behold the light of his all-cheering countenance.
Is there any thing more? Yes: To him, who, to redeem us from misery, and to advance our estate, hath infinitely debased himself, and eclipsed the brightness of his glorious majesty ; not disdain- ing to assume us into a near affinity, yea, into a perfect union with himself ; to inhabit our frail and mortal nature, to undergo the laws and conditions of humanity, to appear in our shape, and converse, as it were, upon equal terms with us, and at last to taste the bitter cup of a most painful and dis- graceful death for us.
Yea, to him, who not only descended from his imperial throne, became a subject, and (which is more) a servant for our sake ; but designed there- by to exalt us to a participation of his royal dig- nity, his divine nature, his eternal glory and bliss ; submitting crowns and sceptres to our choice ; crowns that cannot fade, and sceptres that can never be extorted from us.
Further yet, To him, the excellent quality, the noble end, the most obliging manner of whose beneficence doth surpass the matter thereof, and hugely augment the benefits ; who, not compelled by any necessity, not obliged by any law, (or pre- vious compact,) not induced by any extrinsic argu- ments, not inclined by our merits, not wearied with our importunities, not instigated by troublesome passions of pity, shame, or fear, (as we are wont to be,) not flattered with promises of recompense, nor bribed with expectation of emolument, thence
364 Lhe Duty of Thanksgiving.
SERM. to accrue unto himself; but being absolute master — of his own actions, only both lawgiver and coun- sellor to himself, all-sufficient, and incapable of admitting any accession to his perfect blissfulness ; most willingly and freely, out of pure bounty and good-will, is our Friend and Benefactor ; prevent- ing not only our desires, but our knowledge ; sur- passing not our deserts only, but our wishes, yea, even our conceits, in the dispensation of his in- estimable and unrequitable benefits; having no other drift in the collation of them, beside our real good and welfare, our profit and advantage, our pleasure and content.
To him, who not lately began, or suddenly will cease, that is either uncertain or mutable in his intentions, but from everlasting designed, con- tinues daily, and will (if we suffer him) to all eter- nity persevere unmoveable in his resolutions to do us good.
To him, whom no ingratitude, no undutiful carriage, no rebellious disobedience of ours, could for one minute wholly remove, or divert from his steady purpose of caring for us: who regards us, though we do not attend to him; procures our welfare, though we neglect his concernments ; em- ploys his restless thought, extends his watchful eye, exerts his powerful arm, is always mindful, and always busy to do us good; watching over us when we sleep, and remembering us when we for- get ourselves : in whom yet ’tis infinite condescen- sion to think of us, who are placed so far beneath his thoughts ; to value us, who are but dust and dirt ; not to despise and hate us, who are really so
Ps-exiii, despicable and unworthy. For Though he dwelleth
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 365
on high, saith the Psalmist truly and emphatically, SERM. he humbleth himself to behold the things that are = done in heaven and earth.
To him, that is as merciful and gracious, as liberal and munificent toward us; that not only bestows on us more gifts, but pardons us more debts, forgives us more sins, than we live minutes ; that with infinite patience endures, not only our manifold infirmities and imperfections, but our petulant follies, our obstinate perversenesses, our treacherous infidelities ; overlooks our careless neg- lects and our wilful miscarriages; puts up the exceedingly many outrageous affronts, injuries, and contumelies continually offered to his supreme Majesty by us base worms, whom he hath always under his feet, and can crush to nothing at his pleasure.
To him yet, who, as St James saith, Giveth James. s. freely, and upbraideth no man; who calls us nei- ther very frequently nor over strictly to accounts ; who exacts of us no impossible, no very difficult, no greatly-burdensome or costly returns; being satisfied with the cheerful acceptance of his favours, the hearty acknowledgments of his goodness, the sincere performance of such duties, to which our own welfare, comfort, and advantage (rightly appre- hended) would otherwise abundantly dispose us.
To him, lastly, whose benefits to acknowledge is the greatest benefit of all; to be enabled to thank whom deserves our greatest thanks ; to be sensible of whose beneficence, to meditate on whose goodness, to admire whose excellency, to celebrate whose praise, is heaven itself and paradise, the life of angels, the quintessence of joy, the supreme degree of felicity.
366 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
In a word, To him, whose benefits are im- mensely great, innumerably many, unexpressibly good and precious. For, Who can utter the mighty acts of the Lord? who can shew forth all his praise? said he, who had employed often his most active thoughts and his utmost endeavours there- upon, and was incomparably better able to do it.
To this God, to this great, to this only Bene- factor of ours, we owe this most natural and easy, this most just and equal, this most sweet and plea- sant duty of giving thanks. To whom if we wil- fully refuse, if we carelessly neglect to pay it, I shall only say thus much, that we are not only monstrously ingrateful, and horribly wicked ; but abominably foolish, and deplorably miserable. I shall repeat this sentence once again, and wish it may have its due effect upon us: To this great, to this only Patron and Benefactor of ours, if we do not in some measure discharge our due debt of gratitude for his inestimable benefits and mercies, we are to be adjudged not only most prodigiously unthankful, most detestably impious, but most wofully stupid also and senseless, most desperately wretched and unhappy.
I should now proceed to consider the cireum- stance of time determined in the word Always; and the extension of the matter, implied in those words, For all things: and then to subjoin some further inducements or arguments persuasive to the practice of this duty. But the time (and, I fear, your patience) failing, I shall reserve them to some other opportunity.
SERMON XI.*
OF THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING.
Epues. V. 20. Giving thanks always for all things unto God. | ae formerly, in this place, discoursed ceee
upon these words, I observed in them four - particulars considerable: 1 The substance of a
@ This sermon, preached at St Mary’s, July 19, 1663, seems also to have been preached at Gray’s Inn, Jan. 10, 1664, with the following introduction.
These words (to omit all matter of needless preface and circumstance) contain three things observable: 1 The sub- stance of a duty to which we are exhorted, Giving of thanks unto God. 2 The circumstance of time assigned to the perform- ance of that duty, Always. 3 The extent of the matter about which the duty is to be employed, For all things. The duty, Giving thanks, includes, or implies these things: 1 A dili- gent attention unto or considerate observation of the Divine benefits. 2 A faithful retention of these benefits in our memory, and frequent reflection upon them. 3 A due esteem and valuation of them. 4 A willing, hearty, and affectionate acceptance and entertainment of them. 5 Fit significations of our notice, declarations of our esteem and acknowledgments of our obligations for the favours received. 6 Competent endeayours of requital and compensation for them. 7 Exhibiting love, respect, and veneration to God our benefactor. These particulars I have largely insisted upon otherwhere in this city; and now proceed to the second particular; which is the circumstance, &c. MS.
SERM. 2.
368 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
duty, to which we are exhorted, to Give thanks; 2 The term unto which it is directed, To God; 3 The circumstance of time determined in that word Always; 4 The extent of the matter about which the duty is employed, For all things. Con- cerning the two former particulars, wherein the duty consisted, and wherefore especially related unto God, I then represented what did occur to my meditation.
III. I proceed now to the third, the circum- stance of time allotted to the performance of this duty, expressed by that universal and unlimited term, Always.
Which yet is not so to be understood, as if thereby we were obliged in every instant (or sin- gular point of time) actually to remember, to con- sider, to be affected with, and to acknowledge the divine benefits: for the deliberate operations of our minds being sometimes wholly interrupted by sleep, otherwhile preoccupied by the indispensable care of serving our natural necessities, and with attendance upon other reasonable employments, it were impossible to comply with an obligation to the performance of this duty so interpreted. And those maxims of law, Jmpossibilium nulla est obli- gatio, and, Que rerum natura prohibentur, nulla lege confirmata sunt, (that is, No law or precept can oblige to wmpossibilities,) bemg evidently grounded upon natural equity, seem yet more valid in relation to his laws, who is the Judge of all the world, and in his dispensations most transcend- ently just and equal.
We may therefore observe, that the Hebrews are wont (in way of synecdoche, or grammatical
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 369
hyperbole) so to use words of this kind, that SERM. their universal importance ought to be restrained by the quality or circumstances of the matter about which they converse. As when our Saviour saith, Ye shall be hated of all men for my sake; all is not Matt.x.22. to be taken of every singular person, (since there were some that loved our Saviour, and embraced the evangelical doctrine,) but for many, or the most. And when David saith, There ts none that doeth Ps. xiv. 1. good, he seemeth only to mean, that in the general corruption of his times there were few righteous persons to be found. And so for ever is often used, not for a perpetual and endless, but for a long and lasting duration; and always, not for a con- tinual, unintermitted state of being or action, but for such a perseverance as agrees to the condition of the thing to which it is applied.
"Tis, for instance, prescribed in Exodus, that Aaron should bear the judgment of the children Exod. of Israel (the Urim and Thummim) upon his heart Pirvnee before the Lord continually; that is, (not im abso- lute and rigorous acceptation continually, but) con- stantly, ever, when he went into the holy place to discharge the pontifical function, as the context de- clares. And our Saviour in the gospel saith of himself, "Ey mavrote édidaka, I always taught in the Job xviii. temple; that is, very often, and ever when fit occa- a sion was presented. And the apostles, immediately after Christ’s ascension, “Hoav c:aravros év T@ tepe@, Luke xxiv. Were, as St Luke tells us, continually in the temple, ** praising and blessing God; that is, they resorted thither constantly at the usual times or canonical hours of prayer. In like manner those injunctions (of nearest affinity) of Praying, of Rejoicing, Bes eae
B. 8. VOL. I. 24
SERM.
1 Thess. v. r6, 175 18. Eph. vi. 18.
370 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
Giving thanks always, are to be taken in a sense so qualified, that the observance of them may be at least morally possible.
Thus far warrantably we may limit the extension and mollify the rigour of this seemingly boundless term; but we can hardly allow any further restric- tion, without destroying the natural signification, or diminishing the due emphasis thereof. As far therefore as it is possible for us, we must endea- vour always to perform this duty of gratitude to Almighty God: and consequently,
1 Hereby is required a frequent performance thereof: that we do often actually meditate upon, be sensible of, confess and celebrate the divine beneficence. For what is done but seldom or never, (as we commonly say,) cannot be under- stood done always, without a catachresis, or abuse of words too enormous. As therefore no moment of our life wants sufficient matter, and every consi- derable portion of time ministers notable occasion of blessmg God; as he allows himself no spacious in- tervals or discontinuances of doing us good: so ought we not to suffer any of those many days (vouchsafed by his goodness) to flow beside us, void of the signal expressions of our dutiful thankful- ness to him; nor to admit in our course of life any long vacations from this duty. If God incessantly, and through every minute, demonstrates himself eracious unto us; we in all reason are obliged fre- quently and daily to declare ourselves grateful unto him.
So at least did David, (that most eminent ex- ample in this kind, and therefore most apposite to illustrate our doctrine, and to enforce the practice
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 371
thereof ;) for, Every day, saith he, I will bless SERM. thee; I will praise thy name for ever and ever. Every day. The heavenly bodies did not more constantly observe their course, than he his diurnal revolutions of praise: every day in his calendar was as it were festival, and consecrated to thanksgiving. Neither did he adjudge it sufficient to devote some small parcels of each day to this service: for, My Ps. av. tongue, saith he, shall speak of thy righteousness and of thy praise all the day long: and again, M1 ae Es pie 8, mouth shall shew forth thy righteousness and thy salvation all the day; for I know not the numbers thereof. The benefits of God he apprehended so great and numerous, that no definite space of time would serve to consider and commemorate them. He resolves therefore otherwhere to bestow his whole life upon that employment: While I lve ae ree I will praise the Lord: I will sing praises unto my God while I have any being: and, I will bless Ps. xxiv. the Lord at all times: his praise shall continually be Ps, lnxi. 6, in my mouth. No man can reasonably pretend greater impediments, or oftener avocations from the practice of this duty, than he, upon whom the burden of a royal estate, and the care of governing a populous nation, were incumbent: yet could not they thrust out of his memory, nor extinguish in his heart, the lively sense of divine goodness ; which (notwithstanding the company of other secu- lar encumbrances) was always present to his mind, and, like a spirit, (excluded from no place by any corporeal resistance,) did mingle with and pene- trate all his thoughts and affections and actions. So that he seems to have approached very near to the complete performance of this duty, according to
24—2
Ps. exly. 2.
SERM. XI.
372 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
the extremity of a literal interpretation, and to have been always, without any intermission, em- ployed in giving thanks to God. The consideration, methinks, of so noble a pattern, adjoined to the evident reasonableness of the duty, should engage us to the frequent practice thereof”.
But if the consideration of this excellent ex- ample do not, yet certainly that may both provoke us to emulation, and confound us with shame, of” Epictetus, a heathen man, whose words to this pur- pose seem very remarkable: Ei yap vowv etxouer, (saith he in Arrian’s Dissertations") ado te édec Nas qToleiy Kal Kouw7 Kal Lola, ) unvery TO Oetov, Kat
’ ~ \ ? , ‘ , ’ ZO \ evdnuctv, Kat éemeképyecOar Tas xapiTas; oVvK Eder Kat oxartovras, kal apovvras, kal écOiovras, doew Tov uvov
\ , A , yA e \ d fA ,
Tov eig Tov Ocov; Mervyas o Oeceos, ort yyy wapecyxev opyava To.avTa, OL wv THY YH epryacoucba * péryas 0 Qeos, ott XEtpas dcdwkev, STL KATATOGLW, OTL KotNLaV, OTL avéec9u AeANOOTws, OTe KaDevdovTas avarvev. Tavita ’ se , > ~ 7 \ \ , ‘ , ed exactou eduuvery Gdel, Kal TOV péryiaToV Kal OeoTa- Tov Uuvoy e:pumverv, OTL THY OUvapuiv Eowke THY Tapako- NovOntrikyv TovTos, Kal oo XpnoriKyy. Ti ovv 3 é7ret of moAXot atoteTupAwabe, ov‘ gdee Twa Elvac TOV TAavTHY éxm@AnpouvTa THY Xwpav, Kal UTep TavTwY aoovTa Tov d ‘\ , ‘ , ’ \ of , , vpvov Tov eis Tov Oeov; Tt yap adXo Ovvapat YE pwu XwrOS, €i py Uuverv TOV Oeov; et ‘your anowy Hunv, errol- ovy Ta THS anoovos* Et KUKVUS, TA TOU KUKvou. Nov oé AorvyiKos Ett, Vverv pe ec TOV Oedv* TOTO pou TO Epryov €5Tl, TOW AUTO" OVO éyKaTarenyw THY Trak TavTyy, b El 8€ Baodedls dvnp prvpias BarriCdpevos pporrict, Kai mavra- xdbev mepterKdpuevos, TorauTakts Tis ‘uépas mapexddret Tov Ocdy, Tiva Gy €youev arrodoylay ) cvyyvapny rpeis, Tooavtny oxoAny ayovtes, Kal pI) auvexas avrov ixerevovres, &c.—Chrys. (Orat. x1v. Opp. Tom. y.
p. 76.] © Epict. Diss. 1. 16. [15—21.]
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 379
ep Scov av dlowrar’ Kal vuas éml THY avTnY TavTHy SERM. @oyv mapacado. That is, in our language, If we ——— understood ourselves, what other thing should we do, either publicly or privately, than sing hymns to, and speak well of God, and perform thanks unto him? Ought we not, when we were digging, or ploughing, or eating, to sing a (suitable) hymn to him’? Great is God, in that he hath bestowed on us those instru- ments wherewith we till the ground: Great is God, because he hath given us hands, a throat, a belly; that we grow insensibly, that sleeping we breathe. Thus should we upon every occurrence celebrate God, and superadd of all the most excellent and most divine hymn, for that he hath given us the faculty of apprehending and using these things orderly. Wherefore since most men are blind and ignorant of this, should there not be some one who should dis- charge this office, and who should for the rest utter this hymn to God? And what can I, a lame and decrepit old man do else, than celebrate God? Were I indeed a nightingale, I would do what be- longs to a nightingale; of a swan, what becomes a swan: but since now I am endued with reason, I ought to praise God. This is my duty and concern- ment, and so I do; neither will I desert this employ- ment, while rt is in my power: and to the same song L exhort you all. Thus that worthy philosopher, not instructing us only, and exhorting with pathetical discourse, but by his practice inciting us to be con- tinually expressing our gratitude to God.
2 Tdvra roivuy tov Biov éopriv &yovres, mavty mavtobev mapeivat Tov Ocdy TeTEcpEvol, yewpyodpev aivodvres, mA€opev tyvodyTes, KaTa Thy GdAnv Todireiay evréxvws avaotpepoucba.—Clem. Alex. Strom. vit. [Opp. Tom. 11. p. 851.]
SERM.
Pa: xx. I, 2, 3.
374 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
And although neither the admonition of pro- phets, nor precepts of philosophers, nor the exam- ples of both, should prevail; yet the precedents, methinks, of dumb and senseless creatures should animate us thereto; which never cease to obey the law imposed on them by their Maker, and without intermission glorify him. For, The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto nght sheweth knowledge. There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard. It is St Chrysostom’s argumentation; Kal yap aic- pov av ein, saith he, TOV Aoryikov avOpwrov kal TeV OpwWMevwy ATAaVTWY TLLWTEpOY, éXaTTov THs KTicEws pépew KaTa TOY THIS evyuias Noyov' ovK aio'y pov oe povov, aAAA Kat aToTov. lds dé ovK ATorov; elrye avTy pev Ka exaotyy npépav Kal apav avaTréeuTret TO dearoTn do€oroyiav. It were an ugly thing, that man, endued with reason, and the most honourable of all things visible, should in rendering thanks and praise be exceeded by other creatures: neither is it only base, but absurd. For how can it be otherwise, since other creatures every day and every hour send up a doxo- logy to their Lord and Maker®? For, The heavens declare the glory of God, &c.
If the busy heavens are always at leisure, and the stupid earth is perpetually active in manifest- ing the wisdom, power, and goodness of their Creator; how shameful is it, that we (the flower of his creation, the most obliged, and most capable of doing it) should commonly be either too busy or too idle to do it; should seldom or never be dis-
° In Ps. exliy. (Opp. Tom. 1. p. 884.]
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 375
posed to contribute our endeavours to the advance- = ment of his glory! But,
2 Gwing thanks always may import our ap- pointing and punctually observing, certain conve- nient times of performing this duty; that is, of serious meditation upon, and affectionate acknow- ledgment of the divine bounty. We know that all persons, who design with advantage to prosecute an orderly course of action, and would not lead a tumultuary life, are wont to distinguish their por- tions of time, assigning some to the necessary refections of their body, others to the divertisement of their minds, and a great part to the despatch of their ordinary business: otherwise (like St James’s double-minded man) they would be unstable in all] Jamesi. 8. their ways; they would ever fluctuate in their reso- lutions, and be uncertain when, and how, and to what they should apply themselves. And so, this main concernment of ours, this most excellent part of our duty, if we do not depute some vacant sea- sons for it, and observe some periodical recourses thereof, we shall be tempted often to omit it; we shall be listless to do it, apt to defer it, and easily diverted from it by the encroachments of other less behoving affairs.
The Jews, to preserve them in the constant exercise of this duty, had instituted by God a sacrifice called tn (juge), rendered by the Greek translators, ‘H ciaravros Ovcia, The continual sacri- Dan. viii. fice; to which the divine author of the Epistle to '” the Hebrews seems to allude, when in these words he exhorts: Av’ avtov ovv avacpépwpuev Ouciav aivecews Heb. xiii. Sataytes 76 OG, By him therefore let us offer the** sacrifice of praise to God continually, (or the con-
SERM.
< .
Ps. cxix. 164.
IPs) xc: tT, 2; lv. 17.
376 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
tinual sacrifice of praise,) the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to his name. As that sacrifice there- fore, being offered constantly at a set time, was thence denominated continual; so perhaps may we, by constantly observing some fit returns of praise and thanksgiving, be said always to give thanks.
In determining the seasons and proportions of which, what other rule or standard can we better conform to, than that of the royal prophet? I shall not urge his example so much ; (according to which we should be obliged to a greater frequency;) for, Seven times a day, saith he, do I praise thee, because of thy righteous judgments: but rather allege his general direction and opinion, proposed to us in these words of his; Jt 7s a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord, and to sing praises unto thy name, O thou Most High; to shew forth thy lovingkindness every morning, and thy faithfulness every night. It is a good thing; that is, a seemly, a convenient, a commendable, a due performance : Every morning; that is, when our spirits, being recreated with sleep, are become more vigorous, our memories more fresh, our fancies more quick and active: To shew forth thy lovingkindness ; that is, from a hearty sense of our obligation to ac- knowledge the free bounty of him, who, in pur- suance of his former kindness, hath been pleased to accumulate new favours to us; to guard us by his watchful care, when we were buried, as it were, in a senseless ignorance, and total neglect of our own welfare; to raise us from that temporary death, and to confer a new life upon us, restoring us to our health, to our means of subsistence, to
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 377
all the necessary supports, and the desirable com- AEROS forts of life: Every night also; that is, when our spirits are exhausted with Baik, and our minds tired with thoughtfulness; when we are become weary, not of doing only, but almost of being ; we should conclude our toils, and wrap up our cares in the sweet sense and grateful memory of his good- ness, who hath protected us so many hours from the manifold dangers, and more sins, to which, by our weakness, and our folly, and our bad inclina- tions, we are through every minute exposed ; and withal hath provided us so easy and so delightful a means of recovering our spent activity, of repair- ing our decayed strength.
Thus if we constantly begin, and thus close up, thus bound and circumscribe our days, dedicating those most remarkable periods of time to blessing God, and Making, as the Psalmist speaks, the out- Ps. ixv. 8. goings of the morning and evening to rejoice in him:
{since beginning and ending do in a manner com- prehend the whole ; and the morning and evening,
in Moses’s computation and style, do constitute a Gen. i. day;) we may (not incongruously) be supposed
and said to give thanks always. But yet further,
this may import,
3 A vigilant attendance upon this duty, such as men bestow on their employments, whereof though the actual prosecution ceases, yet the de-
fF Mgn continually proceeds. As we say, such a one is writing a book, building a house, occupying a piece of land, though he be at that present perad- venture sleeping, or eating, or satisfying some other desire ; because his design never sleeps, and his purpose persists uninterrupted. And thus, it
378 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
SERM. seems, we are to understand our Saviour and the apostles, when they exhort us [lpocxaprepew, To
Rom. continue instant in prayer and thanksgiving; and,
a ‘Arypumvery ev wacn MpockapTEpycet; To watch with all
Eph. i. 16. perseverance; and Ipyyoperv, To wake in thanks- giving; and My wavec@a, Not to give over giving
heen. v. thanks: and to perform these duties ‘Adciadeirrws,
Like avi. Incessantly, or without giving off: My éxxaxetv, Not to grow worse, faint, or falter: (which is, in that place, made equivalent to, explicatory of doing duty always). Which expressions denote a most diligent attendance on these duties ; that we may make them not a IIdpepyov, a diversion or by-busi- ness of our lives, allowing only a perfunctory and desultorious endeavour on them ; but esteem them a weighty business, to be pursued with steadfast resolution and unwearied industry.
As our beings and powers did proceed from the goodness, so the results of them naturally tend to the glory of God; and the deliberations of our will ought to conspire with the instincts of our nature; it should be the principal design which our intention should aim at, and our endeavour always drive on, to glorify our Maker. Which doing, we may be reputed to discharge this duty, and in some sense said always to give thanks. But further,
4 This term Always doth necessarily imply a ready disposition, or habitual inclination, to give thanks, ever permanent in us: that our hearts, as
Ps. cviii.1. David’s was, be fixed always (that is, fittingly prepared, and steadily resolved) to thank and praise God; that our affections be like tinder, though not always inflamed, yet easily inflammable by the sense of his goodness.
Lhe Duty of Thanksgiving. 379
"Tis said of the righteous man, that He is ever SERM. merciful, and lendeth: not for that he doth ever
actually dispense alms, or furnish his poor neigh- bour with supplies ; but because his mind is ever inchnable to do it when need requires. So a grateful man doth always give thanks, by being disposed to do it upon all fit occasions. "Tis the habit that qualifies and denominates a man such or such in any kind or degree of morality. A good
Ps
26
. XXXVii.
man is in scripture frequently compared to a Tree Ps. i. 3.
bringing forth fruit in due season; and the root thereof is this habitual disposition, which, being nourished by the dew of heaven, and quickened by the benign influence of divine grace, sprouts forth opportunely, and yields a plentiful increase of good fruit. Though we cannot always sing, our organs may be always rightly tuned for praise ; at least, they should never be unstrung, and wholly out of kelter.
We should maintain in ourselves a constant good temper of mind, that no opportunity surprise, and find us unprepared to entertain worthily the effects of divine favour: otherwise we shall as well lose the benefit, as God the thanks and glory due to them. That we be always thus disposed, is not impossible, and therefore requisite. But moreover,
5 Lastly, Giving thanks always imports, that we readily embrace every opportunity of actually expressing our thankfulness. For so, what im some places of scripture is enjomed to be done continually, and indesinently, is in others only required to be done upon all opportunities. Which shews, that Havrore is to be expounded, not so
SERM. XI.
Eph. vi.18.
Luke xxi. 36.
380 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
much "Ev zavti ypovw, At all times, as "Ev ravti ne In Ory season. So [lpocevyopevor ev ravtt Kapp ev mvevpatt, Praying upon ever y opportuatty in your spirit: and, Aypumverre ouv €v mavTi Kawpo deopevor, Be watchful, praying im every season. And this sense seems probably to be chiefly intended by this apostle, whenever he hath (as he hath often) this expression, [lavrore evyaptoreiv, that we embrace every overture or fit occasion of giving thanks.
"Tis true, no time is unseasonable to do it: every moment we receive favours, and therefore every minute we owe thanks: yet there are some especial seasons that do more importunately require them. We should be like those trees that bear fruit (more or less) continually; but then more kindly, and more abundantly, when more power- fully cherished by the heavenly warmth.
When any fresh, any rare, any remarkable benefit happens to us; when prosperous success attends our honest endeavours ; when unexpected favours fall as it were of their own accord into our bosoms ; (like the grain in the golden age spring- ing up “Acwapra cai avypota, without our care or our toil, for our use and enjoyment ;) when we are delivered from straits in our apprehension inextri- cable, surmount difficulties seeming insuperable, escape hazards (as we suspected) inevitable ; then is a special season presented us of offering up the sacrifice of praise to the God of mercy, help, and victory.
When we revolve in our minds (as we should often do) the favourable passages of providence, that in the whole course of our lives have befallen
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 381
us: how in our extreme poverty and distress (when SERM. perhaps no help appeared, and all hopes seemed to = fail us,) God hath raised us up friends, who have commiserated, comforted, and succoured us; and not only so, but hath changed our sorrowful con- dition into a state of joy; hath (to use the Psalm- ist’s expressions) Turned our mourning into danc- Ps. xxx. ing; hath Put off our sackcloth, and girded us with = gladness ; hath Considered our trouble, and known oe our soul in adversity; hath Set our feet in a large” ” room, and furnished us with plentiful means of subsistence ; how in the various changes and ad- ventures, and travels of our life, upon sea and land,
at home and abroad, among friends and strangers
and enemies, he hath protected us from wants and dangers; from devouring diseases, and the distem- peratures of infectious air; from the assaults of bloody thieves and barbarous pirates; from the
rage of fire, and fury of tempests ; from disastrous casualties ; from treacherous surprises ; from open mischiefs, that with a dreadful face approached
and threatened our destruction: then most oppor-
tunely should we with all thankful exultation of
mind admire and celebrate our Strength and our Ps. x1. 17; deliverer ; our faithful Refuge in trouble, and The ix.9; xc.1. rock of our salvation.
Also when the ordinary effects of divine pro- vidence do, in any advantageous manner, present themselves to our view; when we peruse the vo- lumes of story, and therein observe the various events of human action ; especially the seasonable rewards of virtue, the notable protections and deli- verances of innocence, and the unexpected punish- ments of malicious wickedness: then we should
382 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
SEEM. with thankful acclamations celebrate the divine
I, 2
goodness and justice; joing in concert with that
Apoe. xix. heavenly choir, and saying, Hallelujah ; salvation,
and glory, and honour, and power unto the Lord our God: for true and righteous are his gudgments.
Or when we contemplate the wonderful works of nature, and walking about at our leisure, gaze upon this ample theatre of the world, considering the stately beauty, constant order, and sumptuous furniture thereof ; the glorious splendour and uni- form motion of the heavens; the pleasant fertility of the earth ; the curious figure and fragrant sweet- ness of plants; the exquisite frame of animals ; and all other amazing miracles of nature, wherein the glorious attributes of God (especially his tran- scendent goodness) are most conspicuously dis- played ; (so that by them not only large acknow- ledgments, but even gratulatory hymns, as it were, of praise have been extorted from the mouths of Aristotle, Pliny, Galen, and such like men, never suspected guilty of an excessive devotion ;) then should our hearts be affected with thankful sense, and our lips break forth into his praise.
Yea, from every object of sense, from every event of providence, from every common occur- rence, we may extract fit matter of thanksgiving : as did our Saviour, when, considering the stupid infidelity of those proud people of Chorazin, Beth- saida, and Capernaum, (who were not at all af- fected by his miraculous works, nor moved to repentance by his pathetical discourses,) and com- paring it with the pious credulity of his meaner disciples, he brake forth into that divine ejacula-
Luke x.21. tion ; I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 383
earth, that thou hast concealed these things from the Susie, wise and pr udent, and hast revealed them unto babes. “Ev éxeivw te Kapp amoxpiBets “Inoovs eize, Matt. xi. saith the evangelical narration; Upon that occa-*° sion Jesus thus spake: he embraced that conve-
nient opportunity of thankfully acknowledging God’s wise and gracious dispensation. And fre- quent occasion is afforded us daily (were our minds suitably disposed) of doing the like.
But so much concerning the time of Pease ing this duty.
IV. We proceed to the matter thereof, For all things. St Chrysostom (in his Commentary upon the 145th Psalm) having enumerated several par- ticulars for which we are bound to thank God ; Because, (1 recite his words punctually ren- dered,) Because, saith he, he hath made us, who before had no being, and made us such as we are ; because he wpholds us being made, and takes care of us continually, both publicly and privately, secretly and openly, with and without our know- ledge; for all visible things created for our sake, the ministry of them afforded to us; the conforma- tion of our bodies, the nobleness of our souls ; his daily dispensations by miracles, by laws, by pun- ishments; his various and incomprehensible pro- vidence; for the chief of all, that he hath not spared lis only-begotten Son for our sake; the benefits conferred on us by baptism, and the other holy mysteries, (or sacraments ;) the ineffable good things to be bestowed on us hereafter, the king- dom of heaven, the resurrection, the enjoyment of perfect bliss'; having, I say, in these words com-
f [Kat yap moddav eopev dperhérat aitG, Ste re odk dvras eroince,
SERM. XI.
384 The Duty of Thanksgiving. prised the things for which we are obliged to thank
_"_ and praise God, he thus despondently concludes :
Ps. cxxxix. 17, 18; XXXVI. 5, 6,
-
a:
If any one shall endeavour to recount particu- larly every one of these things, he will but plunge himself into an unexpressible deep of benefits, and then perceive for how unexpressibly and incon- ceivably many ‘good things he stands engaged to God. And to the like Non plus doth the devout Psalmist seem to be reduced, when he thus ex- claims, How precious are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them! If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand.
I shall not therefore confound myself by launch- ing too far into this immense ocean, nor strive minutely to compute the incomprehensible sum of the divine benefits ; but only observe, that in gross, according to our apostle’s calculation, all things, which however happen to us, are ingredients thereof. No occurrence (great or small, common or particular, present or past, pleasant or sad, per- petual or transitory) is excluded from being the subject of our thanksgiving : each one may prove beneficial to us; and we are with a cheerful con-
‘ a , > ‘ a , a“ ‘ a kal OTL TolovTOUs Eipyacato: OTL yevouevous Stakparet, kat Ste Kad Pan) a ‘ CAF ‘ a“ \ 997 ‘ ‘ ‘ - éxdotny Tpovoet THY Nucpay, Kat Kowwn Kat idia, kat AaOpa Kai havepas, 4 > , 4 > ° , ‘ 4 n” cs ! c , a , kal «iddrwy kat ovk eiddrwv. Ti yap ay tis elmoe Ta dpopeva a SE ~ a a , = nas eroince; thy Siakoviav aitay Hv mapexerar; TOU owpaTos THY ~ - , diarAaow ; THs Wuxns THy evyeverav; tiv Kad’ ExagTHY jEpay oiKovo- - , 7 =~ ~ play, thy dia tov Oavparar, tiv dia Tov vopwr, Thy bia ToY Tim@pLdr ; ”~ > ~ -~ THY ToLKiAny avTov mpdvotay Kai axaTaAnrTov ; TO Keadavoy Tay ayabar, “ >O% a a > , ce tas ‘ , ” ‘ = 6rt ovdé Tod povoyevois eeicaro S¢ nudyv; ta dobevra dn dia Tov , ‘ a , ‘ , , a Barricparos, dia rév pvotnpiov; ta péddovra SoOncecOa amdppnra exeiva ayaba, Tiv Bacirciay, tiv avaocracy, Thy AnEw THs maons paKapt- érntos yepovgay ;—In Ps, exlv. Opp. Tom. 1. pp. 884—5. ] , 8 ("Av yap exaotdv tis TovTwy Katadéyn, eis TéAayos aparov éeure- > - Sm , > ‘ © td -~ od geirat elepyeri@v, Kal OWerat mécwy €orly imevOuvos TH Oed.—ld.
Ibid.]
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 385
tentedness and a grateful resentment to receive a them all from God’s hand. But to observe some little distinction : I say,
1 We are to give thanks, not only for great and notable benefits, but for the least and most ordinary favours of God: though indeed none of God’s favours are in themselves small and incon- siderable. Men are wont to bless themselves, if they receive but a transient glance from a prince’s eye ; a smile from a great personage ; any slender intimation of regard from him that is in capacity to do them good. What is it then to receive the least testimony of his good-will, from whom alone every good thing can be expected ; upon whose disposal all happy success of our wishes, our hopes, and our endeavours do entirely depend ! We repute him unjust who withholds the least part of what is due from the true owner: and is not he ingrateful then, that omits to render thanks for the least of divine mercies ?
There 1s one glory of the sun, another of the x Cor. xv. moon, another of the stars, saith St Paul. Some *” works of God indeed excel in lustre; yet all are glorious, all are to be discerned, all to be esteemed and thankfully entertained by us. The brightness of the one should not wholly obscure the other ; if it do, it argues the weakness of our sense, the dulness of our spiritual faculty. For every beam of light that delights our eye, for every breath of air that cheers our spirits, for every drop of plea- sant liquor that cools our thirst, for every minute of comfortable repose, for every step we safely take, for the happy issue of the least undertaking, for escaping the vengeance due to an idle word or
B.S. VOL. I. 25
SERM.
386 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
a wanton thought, we owe a hymn of praise to
Ee Gadi + Bie
Ps. ae T4, 15,1
Eph. i. 3, 4.
1 Pet. i. 3, 4.
2 We are to render thanks, not only for new and present benefits, but for all we have formerly, all that we may hereafter receive. We find David not only frequently acknowledging the gracious dispensations of Providence toward him through the whole course of his life, but looking back in his thankful devotions as far as his very original being, and praising God for favours conferred on him be- yond his memory, yea before his life. I will praise ” thee, saith he, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works, and that my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curi- ously wrought in the lower parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being imper- fect ; and in thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them. And St Paul, yet further reflecting his grateful consideration, blesses God for his favour commenced before the beginning of things. Blessed, saith he, be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ, according as he hath chosen us before the foundation of the world.
Neither doth the memory only of former, and the enjoyment of present, but the hope and foresight also of future blessings, worthily claim our thanks. For, saith St Peter, Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 387
dead, to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you. Beasts only, and men not much better than they, are affected with present good turns: but men of honest and generous temper resent indif- ferently the obligations of all times. Sense doth not confine their gratitude, nor absence remove, nor age wear it out. What once is done, is ever done to them; and what of courtesy is proposed, seems to them performed. But having before discoursed somewhat largely concerning the remembrance of benefits, I leave this point. Furthermore,
3 We should bless God, not only for new, rare, extraordinary accidents of providence, but for the common and daily benefits and indulgences thereof". These favours are usually the greatest and most valuable in their own nature. (For what can be imagined of higher consequence to us, than the preservation of our lives and of our estates, by which they are comfortably maintained; than the continuance of our bodies in good health, and our minds in their right wits; than the knowledge of heavenly truth, the encouragements to virtue and piety, the assistances of divine grace, and the pro- mises of eternal bliss continually exhibited to us?) Shall the commonness and continuance of these exceeding favours, that they are not given us once only, and transitorily, but continued, (that is, given us so often as time hath instants,) and with an uninterrupted perseverance renewed unto us; shall
4 Quem yero astrorum ordines, quem dierum noctiumque vi- cissitudines, quem mensium temperatio, quemque ea, que gignun- tur nobis ad fruendum, non gratum esse cogant; hune hominem omnino numerare qui decet ?—Cic. de Leg. 11. {7. 16 ]
25—2
SERM. XI.
388 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
a this abate and enervate our gratitude, which in all
Lim. ii.
reason should mainly increase and confirm it? But this point I also touched before, and therefore, for- bearing to insist thereon, I proceed.
4 We should give thanks, not only for private and particular, but for public benefits also, and for such as befall others. J exhort therefore, saith St Paul, before all things, that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all men: not Prayers only, for good things to be be- stowed on others; but Thanksgivings also, for the benefits received by others. (And ‘Yzép ravrwv in our text, however otherwise commonly interpreted, may well admit this sense also; and be taken indif- ferently, Pro omnibus, For all persons, and Propter omma, For all things.)
We are all citizens of the world, and concerned in its good constitution ; and thence obliged thank- fully to adore the mighty Upholder and wise Go- vernor thereof, praising him for all the general benefits liberally poured forth upon mankind’. We partake in the commodities of civil society; and therefore should heartily thank him, by whose gra- cious disposal order is maintained, peace continued, justice administered, plenty provided, our lives made safe and sweet to us therein. We are mem- bers of a church, and highly interested in the pros- perous estate and well-being thereof: when unity therefore is preserved, and charity abounds; when knowledge is increased, and virtue encouraged; when piety flourishes, and truth triumphs therein ; we are bound to render all possible thanks to the gracious bestower of those inestimable blessings.
' Vid. Chrys. in 2 Cor. Orat. u. [Opp. Tom. m1. p. 553.]
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 389
We are much mistaken in our account, if we aan
« .
either determine our own concernments, or mea- sure this duty, by the narrow rule of our private advantage: for subducting either the benefits com- monly indulged to mankind, or those which accrue from the welfare of public society, what possibility will remain of subsistence, of safety, of content unto us? what but confusion, want, violence, and disquiet ?
As we are concerned with our utmost endea- vours to promote, to wish and pray for, to delight and rejoice in, the public good of mankind, the peace of our country, the prosperity of Sion; so we are to bless and thank him, by whose gracious help and furtherance they are attained.
If we consult all history, (sacred and civil,) we shall find it to contain hardly any thing else consi- derable, but the earnest endeavours of good men for public benefit, and their thankful acknowledg- ments to the divine goodness for it. Moses, Da- vid, Nehemiah, St Paul, all the prophets, and all the apostles, what other things memorable did they do, but serve God in procuring public good, and bless God for conferring it?
Neither only as we are combined with others in common interest, but without selfish respects, purely out of charity, and humanity, and ingenuous pity, are we obliged to thank God for the benefits he is pleased to impart to others. If upon these accounts
we are commanded to Do good to all men; to Re- Gal. vi. 10.
joice with those that rejoice ; to Love even those that *™ **
hate us, and Bless those that curse us; ’tis (by fair M** v-
consequence) surely intended, that we should also
=<
390 The Duty of Thanksgwing.
oe bless God for the good issue of our honest endea-
vours, or of our good wishes for them.
And verily could we become endowed with this excellent quality of delighting in others’ good, and heartily thanking God for it, we needed not to envy the wealth and splendour of the greatest princes, not the wisdom of the profoundest doctors, not the religion of the devoutest anchorets, no, nor the happiness of the highest angels: for upon this supposition, as the glory of all is God’s, so the con- tent in all would be ours. All the fruit they can perceive of their happy condition, of what kind soever, is to rejoice in it themselves, and to praise God for it: and this should we then do as well as they. My neighbour's good success is mine, if I equally triumph therein: his riches are mine, if I delight to see him enjoy them: his health is mine, if it refresh my spirits: his virtue mine, if I by it am bettered, and have hearty complacence therein. By this means a man derives a confluence of joy upon himself, and makes himself, as it were, the centre of all felicity; enriches himself with the plenty, and satiates himself with the pleasure, of the whole world: reserving to God the praise, he enjoys the satisfaction of all good that happens to any.
Thus we see David frequently thanking God, not for his favour only and mercy shewed particu- larly to himself, but for his common munificence
Ps. exly.9; toward all: for (to use his own phrases) His good-
exlvi. 7, 8
4 7
’ ness to all, and his tender mercies over all his works;
for Executing judgment in behalf of the oppressed ; for Feeding the hungry; for Loosening the prisoners ;
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 391
for Opening the eyes of the blind; for Raising them cae that are bowed down; for Preserving the strangers, ———— and Relieving the fatherless and widow; for Lifting Ps. elvii. up the meek; for Loving, and caring for, and de- Pet v. 7. fending the righteous; for Opening his hand, and cv, ee satisfying the desire of every living thing; for Giving & erie 2 to the beast his food, and to the young ravens when they cry unto him; m a word, for his goodness to every particular creature, not excluding the most contemptible nor the most savage of all. And how affectionately doth St Paul every where thank God for the growth in grace and spiritual wisdom, for the patience in affliction and perseverance in faith, of those good Christians he writes unto! So should, with an unrestrained exuberance, both our charity to men, and our gratitude to God, abound. But moreover,
5 We are obliged to give thanks, not only for pleasant and prosperous occurrences of providence, but for those also which are adverse to our desire, and distasteful unto our natural sense; for poverty, sickness, disgrace; for all the sorrows and troubles, the disasters and disappointments, that befall us. We are bound to pay thanks, not for our food only, but for our physic also: (which, though ingrateful to our palate, is profitable for our health:) we are obliged, in the school of providence, not only for the good instructions, but for the seasonable correc- tions also vouchsafed unto us, (whereby, though our senses are offended, our manners are bettered “.) Whatever proceeds from good purpose, and tends
K Tov Ochy dpolws dvupveiv xp}, Kat KoAdCovra, Kal dvievra Kodd- cews: duddrepa yap Kndepovias, auddrepa dyadrnros, &c.—Chrys. in Ps. exlviii. [Opp. Tom. 1. p. 903.]
392 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
SERM. to a happy end, that is graciously designed, and effectually conduces to our good, is a fit subject of thanksgiving: and such may all adversities prove unto us. They proceed usually from love and kind
Heb.xii. 6. intention toward us: for, Whom God loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he re-
Ps. exix. ceiveth: and, I know, O Lord, saith David, that thy
‘an judgments are right, and that thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me: in faithfulness, that is, with a sincere intention of doing me good.
God thoroughly knows our constitution, what is noxious to our health, and what may remedy our distempers; and therefore accordingly disposeth to us
Pro jucundis aptissima queeque’; instead of pleasant honey, he sometimes prescribes wholesome wormwood for us. We are ourselves ereatly ignorant of what is conducible to our real good, and, were the choice of our condition wholly permitted to us, should make very foolish, very disadvantageous elections.
We should (be sure) all of us embrace a rich and plentiful estate; when as, God knows, that would make us slothful and luxurious, swell us with pride and haughty thoughts, encumber us with anxious cares, and expose us to dangerous tempta- tions; would render us forgetful of ourselves and neglectful of him. Therefore he wisely disposeth poverty unto us; poverty, the mother of sobriety, the nurse of industry, the mistress of wisdom; which will make us understand ourselves and our dependance on him, and force us to have recourse unto his help. And is there not reason we should
1 [Juv, Sat. x. 349.)
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 393
be thankful for the means by which we are deli- vered from those desperate mischiefs, and obtain these excellent advantages ?
We should all (certainly) choose the favour and applause of men: but this, God also knows, would corrupt our minds with vain conceit, would intoxi- cate our fancies with spurious pleasure, would tempt us to ascribe immoderately to ourselves, and sacrilegiously to deprive God of his due honour. Therefore he advisedly suffers us to incur the dis- grace and displeasure, the hatred and contempt of men; that so we may place our glory only in the hopes of his favour, and may pursue more earnestly the purer delights of a good conscience. And doth not this part of divine providence highly merit our thanks ? |
We would all climb into high places, not con- sidering the precipices on which they stand, nor the vertiginousness of our-own brains: but God keeps us safe in the humble valleys, allotting to us em- ployments which we are more capable to manage.
We should perhaps insolently abuse power, were it committed to us: we should employ great parts on unwieldy projects, as many do, to the dis- turbance of others, and their own ruin: vast know- ledge would cause us to overvalue ourselves and contemn others: enjoying continual health, we should not perceive the benefit thereof, nor be mindful of him that gave it. A suitable medio- crity therefore of these things the divine goodness allotteth unto us, that we may neither starve for want, nor surfeit with plenty.
In fine, the advantages arising from afflictions are so many, and so great, that (had I time, and
SERM. XI.
394 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
eae cle it seasonable to insist largely on this subject) —— it were easy to demonstrate, that we have great reason, not only to be contented with, but to rejoice in, and to be very thankful for, all the crosses and vexations we meet with: to receive them cheerfully at God’s hand, as the medicines of our soul, and the condiments of our fortune; as the arguments of his good-will, and the instruments of virtue; as solid grounds of hope, and comfortable presages of
future joy unto us.
6 Lastly, we are obliged to thank God, not only for corporeal and temporal benefits, but also (and that principally) for spiritual and eternal blessings. We are apt, as to desire more vehe- mently, to rejoice more heartily in the fruition, and more passionately to bewail the loss of temporal good things; so more sincerely and seriously to express our gratitude for the reception of them, than for others relating to our spiritual good, to our everlasting welfare. Wherein we misjudge and misbehave ourselves extremely. For, as much as the reasonable soul (that goodly image of the divine essence, breathed from the mouth of God) doth in dignity of nature, and purity of substance, excel this feculent lump of organized clay, our body ; as the blissful ravishments of spirit surpass the dull satistactions of sense; as the bottomless depth of eternity exceeds that shallow surface of time, which terminates this transitory life ; im such proportion should our appetite unto, our compla- cence in, our gratitude for spiritual blessings tran- scend the affections (respectively) engaged about these corporeal accommodations.
Consider that injunction of our Saviour to his
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 395
disciples: In this rejoice not, that the spirits are a subject unto you; but rather rejoice, because your names are written in heaven. Rejoice not; that is, “°*** Be not at all affected with this (although in itself very rare accomplishment, eminent privilege, glo- rious power of working that indeed greatest of miracles, subjecting devils; that is, baffling the shrewdest craft, and subduing the strongest force in nature) in comparison of that delight, which the consideration of the divine favour, in order to your eternal felicity, doth afford.
We are, ’tis true, greatly indebted to God for our creation, for that he hath extracted us from nothing, and placed us in so lofty a rank among his creatures; for the excellent faculties of soul and body wherewith he hath endued us; and for many most admirable prerogatives of our outward estate : but much more for our redemption, and the wonderful circumstances of unexpressible love and grace therein declared ; for his descending to a conjunction with our nature, and elevating us to a participation of his ; for dignifying us with more illustrious titles, and instating us in a sure capa- city of a much superior happiness. Our daily food deserves well a grace to be said before and after it: but how much more that constant provision of heavenly manna, the evangelical verity; those savoury delicacies of devotion, whereby our souls are nourished to eternal life? "Tis a laudable cus- tom, when we are demanded concerning our health, to answer, Well, I thank God; but much more reason have we to say so, if our conscience can attest concerning that sound constitution of mind, whereby we are disposed vigorously to perform
SERM.
IPs. en. 1, &e.
396 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
those virtuous functions, due from reasonable na- ture, and conformable to the divine law. If for the prosperous success of our worldly attempts ; for avoiding dangers that threatened corporal pain and damage to us; for defeating the adversa- ries of our secular quiet, we make Ze Dewm lauda- mus our ’Emwixov, (our song for victory ;) how much more for the happy progress of our spiritual affairs, (affairs of imcomparably highest conse- quence ;) for escaping those dreadful hazards of utter ruin, of endless torture ; for vanquishing sin and hell, those irreconcileable enemies to our ever- lasting peace ; are we obliged to utter triumphal anthems of joy and thankfulness !
This is the order observed by the Psalmist : inciting his soul to bless God for all his benefits, he begins with the consideration of God’s mercy in pardoning his sins ; then proceeds to his goodness in bestowing temporal favours. Who forgieth all thy sins, leads the van; Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things brings up the rear in the enume- ration and acknowledgment of God’s benefits. That our minds are illustrated with the knowledge of God and his glorious attributes, of Christ and his blessed gospel, of that straight path which con- ducteth to true happiness; that by divine assist- ance we are enabled to elude the allurements, to withstand the violences of temptation, to assuage immoderate desires, to bridle exorbitant passions, to correct vicious inclinations of mind ; requires more our hearty thanks, than for that we were able by our natural wit to penetrate the abstrusest mys- teries, or to subjugate empires by our bodily strength. The forgiveness of our sins doth more
The Duty of Thanksgiwing. 397
oblige us to a grateful acknowledgment of the SERM. divine goodness, than should God enrich us with : all the treasures contained in the bowels of the earth, or bottom of the ocean. One glimpse of his favourable countenance should more enflame our affections, than being invested with all the imagin- able splendour of wordly glory.
Of these inestimable benefits, and all the ad- vantageous circumstances wherewith they are attended, we ought to maintain in our hearts con- stant resentments; to excite our thankfulness, to kindle our love, to quicken our obedience, by the frequent contemplation of them.
Thus have I (though, I confess,.much more slightly than so worthy a subject did require) pro- secuted the several particulars observable in these words. I should conclude with certain induce- ments persuasive to the practice of this duty ; whereof I have in the tenor both of the former and present discourse insinuated divers, and could pro- pound many more: but (in compliance with the time) I shall content myself briefly to consider only these three very obvious ones.
First therefore, we may consider, that there is 1. no disposition whatever more deeply radicated in the original constitution of all souls endued with any kind of perception or passion, than being sen- sible of benefits received ; being kindly affected with love and respect toward them that exhibit them ; being ready with suitable expressions to acknowledge them, and to endeavour competent recompenses for them. The worst of men, the most devoid of all, not only piety, but humanity and common ingenuity, the most barbarous and
3998 — The Duty of Thanksgiving.
SERM. most wicked, (whom neither sense of equity nor respect to law, no promise of reward or fear of vengeance, can anywise engage to do things just and fitting, or restrain from enormous actions,) retain notwithstanding something of this natural inclination, and are usually sensible of good turns done unto them. Experience teaches us_ thus much ; and so doth that sure oracle of our Sa- Lukevi. viour: Jf, saith he, ye do good to those who do o good to you, what thanks is it? for even sinners (that is, men of apparently lewd and dissolute con- versation) do the same.
Yea even beasts, and those not only the most gentle and sociable of them, (the officious dog, the tractable horse, the docile elephant,) but the wild- est also and fiercest of them, (the untameable lion, the cruel tiger, and ravenous bear, as stories tell us™, and experience attests,) bear some kindness, shew some grateful affection to those that provide for them.
Neither wild beasts only, but even inanimate creatures seem not altogether insensible of benefits, and lively represent unto us a natural abhorrence of ingratitude. The rivers openly discharge into the sea those waters, which by indiscernible con- duits they derived thence; the heavens remit in bountiful showers what from the earth they had exhaled in vapour; and the earth by a fruitful increase repays the culture bestowed thereon ; if not (as the apostle to the Hebrews doth pronounce,)
Heb. vi. 8.16 deserves cursing and reprobation. So mon- strous a thing, and universally abominable to nature, is all ingratitude. And how execrable a
™ Vid. Aul. Gel. Lib. v. c. 14.
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 399
prodigy is it then toward God, from whom alone = we receive whatever we enjoy, whatever we can expect of good ?
The second obligation to this duty is most just = ™! and equal. For, (as he said well,) Beneficium dare qui nescit, injuste petit®; He unjustly requires (much more unjustly receives) a benefit, who is not minded to requite it. In all reason we are indebted for what is freely given, as well as for what is lent unto us. For the freeness of the giver, his not exacting security, nor expressing conditions of return, doth not diminish, but rather increase the debt. He that gives, indeed, according to human (or political) law, (which, in order to preservation of public peace, requires only a punctual perform- ance of contracts,) transfers his right, and alienates his possession: but according to that more noble and perfect rule of ingenuity, (the law which God and angels and good men chiefly observe, and govern themselves by,) what is given is but com- mitted to the faith, deposited in the hand, treasured up in the custody of him that receives it®; and what more palpable iniquity is there, than to betray the trust, or to detain the pledge, not of some inconsiderable trifle, but of inestimable good- will? Kacepta Macedonum gente, saith Seneca, non est in ulla data adversus ingratum actio: In no nation (excepting the Macedonians) an action could be preferred against ingrateful persons, as so”. (Though Xenophon, no mean author, reports’, that
5 at Syrus. (Poet. Scen. Latin. Vol. vi. p. 228. Ed. Bothe.)} Kadov 16 @noavpiopa Ketpéevn xapis. [Menand. Sentent. sing. 295. Ed. Meineke.] P De Benef. [r1. 6. 2.] 2. [Cyri Diseip: 1. 25:72]
400 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
SERM. among the Persians also there were judgments “_ assigned, and punishments appointed for ingrati- tude.) However, in the court of heaven, and at the tribunal of conscience, no offender is more con- stantly arraigned, none more surely condemned, none more severely punished, than the ingrateful man. Since therefore we have received all from the divine bounty; if God should in requital exact, that we sacrifice our lives to the testimony of his truth ; that we employ our utmost pains, expend our whole estate, adventure our health, and pros- titute all our earthly contents to his service ; since he did but revoke his own, it were great injustice to refuse compliance with his demands: how much more, when he only expects from us and requires some few acknowledgments of our obligation to him, some little portions of our substance, for the relief of them that need, some easy observances of his most reasonable commands! IIT. Thirdly, This is a most sweet and delightful Ps. exxxv. duty. Praise the Lord, saith the most experienced Psalmist, jor the Lord is good; sing praises to his Ps, exlvii. name, for it is pleasant: and otherwhere, Praise 0" the Lord: for it is good to sing praises to our God ; for it is pleasant, and praise is comely. The per- formance of this duty, as it especially proceeds from good humour, and a cheerful disposition of mind; so it feeds and foments them; both root and fruit thereof are hugely sweet and _ sapid.
Jamesv. Whence St James; Jf any man be afficted, let
? him pray; is any merry, let him sing psalms. (Psalms, the proper matter of which is praise and thanksgiving.)
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 401
Other duties of devotion have something labo- en rious in them, something disgustful to our sense. Prayer minds us of our wants and imperfections ; confession induces a sad remembrance of our mis- deeds and bad deserts: but thanksgiving includes nothing uneasy or unpleasant; nothing but the memory and sense of exceeding goodness.
All love is sweet; but that especially which arises, not from a bare apprehension only of the object’s worth and dignity, but from a feeling of its singular beneficence and usefulness unto us. And what thought can enter into the heart of man more comfortable and delicious than this, that the great Master of all things, the most wise and mighty King of heaven and earth, hath entertained a gracious regard, hath expressed a real kindness toward us? that we are in capacity to honour, to please, to present an acceptable sacrifice to him, who can render us perfectly happy? that we are admitted to the practice of that wherein the supreme joy of paradise, and the perfection of angelical bliss consists? For praise and thanks- giving are the most delectable business of heaven; and God grant they may be our greatest delight, our most frequent employment upon earth.
To these I might add such further consider- ations: That this duty is of all most acceptable Ps.lxix. 3° to God, and most profitable to us. That grati- es tude for benefits procures more, disposing God to bestow, and qualifying us to receive them. That the serious performance of this duty efficaciously promotes and facilitates the practice of other duties ; since the more we are sensible of our obligations to God, the more ready we shall be to please him,
BLS. VOL, T. 26
402 The Duty of Thanksgiving.
SEEM. by obedience to his commandments. What St Chrysostom saith of prayer, Jt is impossible that he, who with competent promptitude of mind doth constantly apply himself thereto, should ever sin*, 1s most especially true of this part of devotion: for how can we at the same time be sensible of God’s goodness to us, and willingly offend him? That the memory of past benefits, and sense of present, confirms our faith, and nourishes our hope of future. That the circumstances of the divine beneficence mightily strengthen the obligation to this duty; especially his absolute freeness in giving, and our total unworthiness to receive; our very ingratitude itself affording strong inducements to gratitude. That giving thanks hath de facto been always the principal part of all religion, (whether instituted by divine command, or prompted by natural reason, or propagated by general tradition;) the Ethnic devotion consisting (as it were totally) in the praise of their gods, and acknowledgment of their bene- fits ; the Jewish more than half in eucharistical oblations, and in solemn commemorations of pro- vidential favours; and that of the ancient Chris- tians so far forth, that bystanders could hardly discern any other thing in their religious practice, than that they sang hymns to Christ, and by mu- tual sacraments obliged themselves to abstain from all villamy*. But I will rather wholly omit the
* Vid. diviniss. Chrys. locum. Opp. Tom. v. p. 76. [‘Apryxa- voy yap, daunxavov avOpwmov peta tis mpoonkovons mpobvpias edxd- pevoy, Kal mapakadovyta Tov Ocdy guvex@s, auapreiy wore.—In Ann. Orat. v.]
* Plin. Epist. [x. 97. 7.] [Adfirmabant autem hanc fuisse sum- mam vel culpze suze vel erroris, quod essent soliti stato die ante lucem convenire; carmenque Christo, quasi Deo, dicere secum
The Duty of Thanksgiving. 403
prosecution of these pregnant arguments, than be SERM. further offensive to your patience.
Now the blessed Fountain of all goodness and mercy inspire our hearts with his heavenly grace, and thereby enable us rightly to apprehend, dili- gently to consider, faithfully to remember, worthily to esteem, to be heartily affected with, to render all due acknowledgment, praise, love, and thankful obedience for all his (infinitely great and innumer- ably many) favours, mercies, and benefits freely conferred upon us: and let us say with David, ¥* ie Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, who only doeth ~ wondrous things: and blessed be his glorious name Sor ever; and let the whole earth be filled with his glory. Blessed be the Lord God of Israel from Ps. evi. 48. everlasting to everlasting: and let all the people say, Amen.
invicem, seque sacramento non in scelus aliquod obstringere, sed ne furta, ne latrocinia, ne adulteria committerent, ne fidem falle- rent, ne depositum appellati abnegarent. |
2622
- SERMON XII.
ON THE KING’S HAPPY RETURN.
ee ae ae
I exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men: for kings, and for all that are in authority.
eae S! PAUL in his preceding discourse having a insinuated directions to his scholar and spi- 1 Tim.i. 3, ritual son, Timothy, concerning the discharge of i his office, of instructing men in their duty according to the evangelical doctrine; (the main design whereof he teacheth to consist, not (as some men Ver.6. conceited) in fond stories, or vain speculations, but Ver. 5,19. in practice of substantial duties, holding a sincere faith, maintaining a good conscience, performing offices of pure and hearty charity ;) in pursuance of such general duty, and as a principal instance thereof, he doth here First of all exhort, or, doth Exhort that first of all all kinds of devotion should be offered to God, as for All men generally, so par- ticularly for Kings and magistrates. From whence we may collect two particulars. 1 That the mak- ing of prayers for kings is a Christian duty of great importance. (St Paul judging fit to exhort thereto Ipérov wavrav, Before all other things; or, to Exhort that before all things it should be per- formed.) 2 That it is incumbent on the pastors
On the King’s happy Return. 405
of the church (such as St Timothy was) to take special care, that this duty should be performed in the church ; both publicly in the congregations, and privately in the retirements of each Christian : according to what the apostle, after the proposing divers enforcements of this duty, subsumeth in the eighth verse ; I will therefore, that men pray every where, lifting up holy hands, without wrath or doubting.
The first of these particulars, That it is a duty of great importance to pray for kings, I shall insist upon: it being indeed now very fit and seasonable to urge the practice of it, when it is perhaps com- monly not much considered, or not well observed ; and when there is most need of it, in regard to the effects and consequences which may proceed from the conscionable discharge of it.
My endeavour therefore shall be to press it by divers considerations, discovering our obligation thereto, and serving to induce us to its observance: some whereof shall be general, or common to all times; some particular, or suitable to the present circumstances of things.
I. The apostle exhorteth Christians to pray for kings with all sorts of prayer: with Aeyjoes, or Deprecations, for averting evils from them; with IIpocevyai, or Petitions, for obtaining good things to them; with ’Evrevées, or occasional [ntercessions, for needful gifts and graces to be collated on them: as, after St Austin, interpreters*, in expounding St Paul’s words, commonly distinguish; how accu-
® Aug [Ep. cxurx. (ad Paul.) Opp. Tom. mn. col. 508 p, £.] Beza. {in locum. p. 697. Ed. Basil. 1559.] Grotius [in locum. Opp. Tom. 1. p. 961.]
SERM. XII.
SERM.
Gal. vi. 10.
406 On the King’s happy Return.
rately, I shall not discuss: it sufficing, that assur- edly the apostle meaneth, under this variety of expression, to comprehend all kinds of prayer. And to this I say we are obliged upon divers accounts.
1 Common charity should dispose us to pray for kings. This Christian disposition inclineth to universal benevolence and beneficence; according to that apostolical precept, As we have opportunity, let us do good unto all men: it consequently will excite us to pray for all men; seeing this is a way of exerting good-will, and exercising beneficence, which any man at any time, if he hath the will and heart, may have opportunity and ability to pursue.
No man indeed otherwise can benefit all: few men otherwise can benefit many: some men other- wise can benefit none: but in this way any man is able to benefit all, or unconfinedly to oblige man- kind, deriving on any somewhat of God’s immense beneficence. By performing this good office, at the expense of a few good wishes addressed to the Sovereign Goodness, the poorest may prove bene- factors to the richest, the meanest to the highest, the weakest to the mightiest of men: so we may benefit even those who are most remote from us, most strangers and quite unknown to us. Our prayers can reach the utmost ends of the earth; and by them our charity may embrace all the world.
And from them surely kings must not be ex- cluded. For if, because all men are our fellow- creatures, and brethren by the same heayenly Father; because all men are allied to us by cogna- tion and similitude of nature; because all men are
On the King’s happy Return. 407
the objects of God’s particular favour and care : if, panne because all men are partakers of the common redemption, by the undertakings of him who is the common Mediator and Saviour of all men; and because all men, according to the gracious intent and desire of God, are designed for a consortship in the same blessed inheritance: (which enforce- ments St Paul in the context doth intimate:) if, 1n ; Tin. i. fine, because all men do need prayers, and are #®*® capable of benefit from them, we should be chari- tably disposed to pray for them: then must we also pray for kings, who, even in their personal capa- city, as men, do share in all those conditions. Thus may we conceive St Paul here to argue: For all men, saith he, For kings; that is consequently for kings, or particularly for kings; to pray for whom, at least no less than for other men, universal cha- rity should dispose us.
Indeed, even on this account we may say espe- cially for kings; the law of general charity with peculiar advantage being applicable to them: for that law commonly is expressed with reference to our neighbour, that is, to persons with whom we have to do, who come under our particular notice, who by any intercourse are approximated to us; and such are kings especially. For, whereas the great- est part of men (by reason of their distance from us, from the obscurity of their condition, or for want of opportunity to converse with them) must needs slip beside us, so that we cannot employ any distinct thought or affection toward them: it is not so with kings, who by their eminent and illustrious station become very observable by us; with whom we have frequent transactions and mutual con-
SERM, x
Ps. xvi. 2.
408 On the King’s happy Return.
cerns; who therefore, in the strictest acception, are our neighbours, whom we are charged to love as ourselves; to whom consequently we must perform this most charitable office of praying for them.
2 ‘To impress which consideration, we may re- flect, that commonly we have only this way granted us of exercising our charity toward princes; they being situated aloft above the reach of private beneficence”: so that we cannot enrich them, or relieve them by our alms; we cannot help to exalt or prefer them to a better state; we can hardly come to impart good advice, seasonable consolation, or wholesome reproof to them; we cannot profit or please them by familiar conversation. For, as in divers other respects they resemble the Divinity ; so in this they are like it, that we may say to them, as the Psalmist to God, Thou art my Lord; my goodness extendeth not to thee. Yet this case may be reserved, wherein the poorest soul may benefit the greatest prince, imparting the richest and choicest goods to him: he may be indebted for his safety, for the prosperity of his affairs, for God’s mercy and favour toward him, to the prayers of his meanest vassal. And thus to oblige princes, me- thinks, we should be very desirous; we should be glad to use such an advantage, we should be ambi- tious of such an honour.
3 Weare bound to pray for kings out of charity to the public; because their good is a general good, and the communities of men (both church and
> Privatorum ista copia est, inter se esse munificos,—Auson. ad Gratian. Imp. [Opp. p. 699. Ed. Toll. 1671.]
Absit, Auguste, et istud sancta divinitas omen avertat, ut tu a quoquam mortalium expectes vicem beneficii!—Mamert. Grat. Actio Jul. Imp. [cap. xxxii. Paneg. Vet. Tom. 1. p. 207.]
On the King’s happy Return. 409
state) are greatly concerned in the blessings by —
prayer derived on them. —_—_ The safety of a prince is a great part of the com-
mon welfare ; the commonwealth, as it were, living
and breathing in him: his fall, like that of a tall
cedar, (to which he is compared,) shaking the earth, Isai. ii. 13.
and discomposing the state; putting things out of
course, and drawing them into new channels; trans-
lating the administration of affairs into untried
hands, and an uncertain condition. Hence, Let 1 Kings i.
the king live, (which our translators render, God ‘kings xi.
save the king,) was an usual form of salutation or 3 ¢hron.
prayer: and, O king, live for ever, was a customary “fi 1"
1 Kings i.
address to princes, whereto the beat men did con- 3". a
form, even in application to none of the best princes; iii. istiove as Nehemiah to king Artaxerxes, and Daniel to Neh. it 3. king Darius. Hence not only good king David is ™"“?" ealled The light of Israel; (Thou shalt not, said 28am. xxi. Abishai, any more go out with us to battle, that thou” quench not the light of Israel ;) but even the wicked
and perverse king Zedekiah is by the prophet Jeremy himself (who had been so misused by him)
styled The breath of our nostrils. (The breath, saith Lam. iv. he, of our nostrils, the anointed of the Lord was” taken in their pits.) Hence not only the fall of 2 chron. good king Josiah was so grievously lamented; but “*” ** a solemn mourning was due to that of Saul; and,
Ye daughters of Jerusalem, weep for Saul, was a 2 Sam. i. strain becoming the mouth of his great successor ‘” ** king David. Hence the primitive Christians, who
could not be constrained to swear by the genius of
Cesar, did not yet, in compliance with the usual practice, scruple to swear by their health or safety°:
* Sed et juramus, sicut non per genios Cesarum, ita per salu-
SERM. x
.
Gen. xlii. TS; 10.
2 Sam. XVill. 3.
Prov. iv.9.
Ps, lxxii. 4.
410 On the King’s happy Return.
that is, to express their wishing it, with appeal to God’s testimony of their sincerity therein; as Joseph may be conceived to have sworn By the life of Pharaoh. Wence well might the people tell king David, Thou art worth ten thousand of us; seeing the public was so much interested in his safety, and had suffered more in the loss of him, than if a myriad of others had miscarried.
This honour likewise of a prince is the glory of his people; seeing it is founded on qualities or deeds tending to their advantage; seeing it can hardly be supposed, that he should acquire honour without their aid and concurrence, or that he should retain it without their support and their satisfac- tion. And as the chief grace and beauty of a body is in the head, and the fairest ornaments of the whole are placed there; so is any commonwealth most dignified and beautified by the reputation of its prince.
The wealth and power of a prince are the sup- ports and securities of a state; he thereby being enabled to uphold and defend its safety, its order, its peace ; to protect his people from foreign injuries and invasions; to secure them from intestine broils and factions; to repress outrages and oppressions annoying them.
The prosperity of a prince is inseparable from the prosperity of his people; they ever partaking of his fortunes, and thriving or suffering with him. For, as when the sun shineth brightly, there is a clear day and fair weather over the world; so when a prince is not overclouded with adversity or
tem eorum, que est augustior omnibus geniis,—Tert. Apol. cap. xxxii. [Opp. p. 28 a.]
On the King’s happy Return. 41]
disastrous occurrences, the public state must be SERM.
serene, and a pleasant state of things will appear. ae
Then is the ship in a good condition, when the
pilot in open sea, with full sails and a brisk gale,
cheerfully steereth on toward his designed port. Especially the piety and goodness of a prince is
of vast consequence, and yieldeth infinite benefit to
his country. For, Vita principis censura est; the
life of a prince is the calling of other men’s lives to
an account. His example hath an unspeakable Ecclus. x.
influence on the manners of his people, who are ~
apt in all his garb and every fashion to imitate
him’, His practice is more powerful than his
commands, and often doth control them. His
authority hath the great stroke in encouraging vir-
tue and checking vice, if it bendeth that way; the
dispensation of honours and rewards, with the in-
fliction of ignominies and corrections, being in his
hand, and passing from it according to his inclina-
tions. His power is the shield of innocence, the
fence of right, the shelter of weakness and simpli-
city against violences and frauds. His very look
(a smile or a frown of his countenance) is sufficient
to advance goodness and suppress wickedness;
according to that of Solomon, A king sitting in the Prov.xx.8.
throne of judgment scattereth away all evil with his
eyes. His goodness pleasing God procureth his
4 Flexibiles quamecunque in partem ducimur a principe, atque, ut ita dicam, sequaces sumus; huic enim cari, huic probati esse cupimus; quod frustra speraverint dissimiles ; eoque obsequii con- tinuatione pervenimus, ut prope omnes homines unius moribus vivamus.—Plin. Paneg. [cap. xlv. 5.]
Vita principis censura est, eaque perpetua; ad hance dirigimur, ad hance convertimur; nec tam imperio nobis opus est, quam ex- emplo.—[Id. Ibid. § 6.]
412 On the King’s happy Return.
= age favour, and therewith deduceth from heaven all — kinds of blessings on his people. And if those ‘ politic aphorisms of the Wise Man be true, that 2 Sam. vil. Righteousness exalteth a nation and establisheth a Prov.xi. throne; that When it goeth well with the righteous, the city rejoiceth; and the same By the blessing of the upright 7s exalted: then upon his inclinations to virtue the advancement and stability of public welfare do mainly depend. So, for instance, how did piety flourish in the times of David, who loved, favoured, and practised it! and what abundance of 2Sam. vii. prosperity did attend it! What showers of bless- Ps Ini. ings (what peace, what wealth, what credit and i glory) did God then pour down upon Israel! How
did the goodness of that prince transmit favours
and mercies on his country till a long time after his 2 Sam. vii. decease! How often did God profess For his ser- 1 Kingsxi. vant David’s sake to preserve Judah from destruc-
jer, xxii, tion; so that even in the days of Hezekiah, when
Ps, luxxix, the king of Assyria did invade that country, God 293 . ,, by the mouth of Isaiah declared, J will defend this ae * city to save it for mine own sake, and for my ser-
1 Kings xi. vant David's sake.
a We may indeed observe, that, according to the representation of things in holy scripture, there is a kind of moral connection, or a communication of merit and guilt, between prince and people; so that mutually each of them is rewarded for the virtues, each is punished for the vices of the other. As for the iniquities of a people, God withdraweth from their prince the free communications of his grace and of his favour, (suffering him to incur sin, or to fall into misfortune; which was the case
2 Kings of that incomparably good king Josiah, and hath
xxiii. 25.
On the King’s happy Return. 413
been the fate of divers excellent princes, whom yea God hath snatched away from people unworthy of ——— them, or involved with such a people in common (""” calamities; according to the rule propounded in Deut. the Law, aiGedie dealile with the Israelites in" ** the case of their disobedience; and according to that of Samuel, If ye shall do wickedly, ye shall be 1 Sum. xii consumed, both ye and 2 your king:) so reciprocally, Prov. for the misdemeanours of princes, (or in them, and «King xi. by them,) God doth chastise their people.- For ?} 1 Kingsxv. what confusions in Israel did the offences of Solo- }%,.,.,. mon create! What mischiefs did issue thereon *¥i- 2". from Jeroboam’s wicked behaviour! How did the sins of Manasseh stick to his country, since that, even after that notable reformation wrought by Jo- siah, it is said, Notwithstanding the Lord turned 2 Kings not from the fierceness of his great wrath where-~ sg with his anger was kindled against Judah, because of all the provocations wherewith Manasseh had provoked him! And how sorely, by a tedious three 2 Sam. xxi. years’ famine, did God avenge Saul’s cruelty to-” ward the Gibeonites!
Nor are only the sins of bad princes affixed to Jer. xxxii. people conspiring with them in impiety; for even * of king Hezekiah it is said, But Hezekiah render ed 2 2 Chron. not again according to the benefit done unto him; re for his heart was lifted up: therefore there was wrath upon him, and upon Judah and Jerusalem. So the pride and ingratitude of an excellent prince were avenged on his subjects. And when good king David (God averting his grace from him) did fall into that arrogant transgression of counting his forces, that, as Joab prudently foretold, be-
came A cause of trespass to Israel; and God, saith 1 Chron. XX! 35 Fe
SERM.
1 Chron. XX, 17.
2 Sam. KV Id
Ps. xxxiii. rs,
Proy. xxi. 5
Tsai. lx. 17.
Ezra vii. 27.
414 On the King’s happy Return.
the text, was displeased with this thing; therefore he smote Israel.
David indeed seemed to apprehend some in- iquity in this proceeding, expostulating thus; Js it not I that commanded the people to be numbered? even I it is that have sinned and done evil indeed: but as for these sheep, what have they done? But God had no regard to his plea, nor returned any answer to it; for indeed God’s wrath began with the people, and their king’s sin was but a judg- ment executed on them; for The anger, it is said, of the Lord was kindled against Israel, (by their sin surely, which is the only incentive of divine wrath,) and he moved David against them to say, Go, number Israel and Judah.
So indeed it is that princes are bad, that they incur great errors, or commit notable trespasses, is commonly imputable to the fault of subjects; and is a just judgment by divine Providence laid on them, as for other provocations, so especially for their want of devotion, and neglecting duly to pray for them. For if they constantly, with hearty sincerity and earnest fervency, would in their be- half sue to God, who Fashioneth all the hearts of men, who especially holdeth the hearts of kings in his hand, and turneth them whithersoever he will; we reasonably might presume, that God by his grace would direct them into the right way, and incline their hearts to goodness; that he would ac- complish his own word in the Prophet, I will make thy officers peace, and thine exactors righteousness: that we might have occasion to pay thanksgivings like that of Ezra, Blessed be the Lord God of our
fathers, who hath put such things as this in the king's
On the King’s happy Return. 415
heart, to beautify the house of the Lord which is in SERM.
Jerusalem.
We are apt to impute the ill management of
things, and the bad success waiting on it, unto princes, being in appearance the immediate agents and instruments of it: but we commonly do therein mistake, not considering that ourselves are most guilty and blamable for it; that it is an impious people which maketh an unhappy prince; that their offences do pervert his counsels and blast his un- dertakings; that their profaneness and indevotion do incense God’s displeasure, and cause him to de- sert princes, withdrawing his gracious conduct from them, and permitting them to be misled by tempt- ation, by ill advice, by their own infirmities, lusts, and passions, into courses fit to punish a naughty
people. So these were the causes of Moses’s speak- Ps. evi. 32,
ing unadvisedly with his lips, and that It went ill **
with him for their sakes; of Aaron’s forming the gxoa.
molten calf; of David’s numbering the people; of
Neco; of Zedekiah’s rebellion against the Assy- rians, (notwithstanding the strong dissuasions of the prophet Jeremy;) concerning which it is said,
5.6 6.00 7 toy Deut. ix.
Josiah’s unadvised enterprise against Pharaoh !?-
For through the anger of the Lord i came to pass 2 Kings
in Jerusalem and Judah, until he had cast them out from lis presence, that Zedekiah rebelled against the king of Babylon.
Considering which things it is apparent, that prayer for our prince is a great office of charity to the public; and that in praying for his safety, for his honour, for his wealth, for his prosperity, for his virtue, we do in effect pray for the same benefits respectively to our country: that in praying for his
XXiv. 20,
416 On the King’s happy Return.
SERM. welfare, we do in consequence pray for the good of
AS all our neighbours, our friends, our relations, our families; whose good is wrapped in his welfare, doth flow from it, doth hang upon it.
We are bound, and it is a very noble piece of charity, to love our country, sincerely to desire and earnestly to further its happiness, and therefore to pray for it; according to the advice. and practice
Ps. exxii. Of the Psalmist: O pray for the peace of Jerusalem; ey s. they shall prosper that love thee. Peace be within thy walls, and prosperity within thy palaces. We are obliged more especially upon the highest ac- counts, with dearest affection to love the church, (our heavenly commonwealth, the society of our spiritual brethren,) most ardently to tender its good, and seek its advantages; and therefore most urgently to sue for God’s favour toward it: being Ps. li 18. ready to say after David, Do good, O God, in thy good pleasure to Sion: build thou the walls of Jeru- Fs 13 salem. Arise, O Lord, and have mercy upon Sion: Isai. Ixi. 1. for the tume to favour her, yea, the set time, is come. Now these duties we ee more easily, more com- pendiously, or more effectually discharge, than by earnestly praying for our prince; seeing that if we do by our prayers procure God’s favour to him, we do certainly draw it on the state and the church. If God, moved by our devout importunities, shall Ps.xi. 4 please to guard his person from dangers, and to grant him a long life; to endue his heart with grace, with the love and fear of himself, with a zeal of furthering public good, of favouring piety, of discountenancing sin; if God shall vouchsafe to inspire him with wisdom, and to guide his counsels, to bless his proceedings, and to crown his under-
On the King’s happy Return. 417
takings with good success: then assuredly we have much promoted the public interest; then infallibly, together with these, all other blessings shall de- scend on us, all good will flourish in our land. This was the ancient practice of Christians, and directed to this end. For, We, saith Lactantius to Constantine, with daily prayers do supplicate God, that he would first of all keep thee, whom he hath willed to be the keeper of things; then that he would inspire into thee a will, whereby thou mayest ever persevere in the love of God’s name; which is salu- tary to all, both to thee for thy happiness, and to us Jor our quiet®.
4 Wherefore, consequently, our own interest and charity to ourselves should dispose us to pray for our prince. We being nearly concerned in his welfare, as parts of the public, and as enjoying many private advantages thereby; we cannot but partake of his good, we cannot but suffer with him. We cannot live quietly, if our prince is disturbed ; we cannot live happily, if he be unfortunate; we can hardly live virtuously, if divine grace do not incline him to favour us therein, or at least restrain him from hindering us’. This is St Paul’s own consideration: I exhort you, saith he, to make pray- ers for kings—that we may lead a quiet and peace- able life in all godliness and honesty. Upon such an account God did command the Jews to pray for
® Cui nos quotidianis precibus supplicamus, ut te in primis, quem rerum custodem voluit esse, custodiat ; deinde inspiret tibi voluntatem, qua semper in amore divini nominis perseveres. Quod est omnibus salutare, et tibi ad felicitatem, et ceteris ad quietem.— Lact. Instit. vir. 26.
f Nescio an plus moribus conferat princeps, qui bonos esse patitur, quam qui cogit.—Plin. Panegyr. [cap. xlyv. 4. |
B.S. VOL. I. aA
SERM. XII.
SERM.
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the welfare of that heathen state under which they
———— lived in captivity. And seek, said he, the peace of
Jer, Xxix.
VE
the city whither I have caused you to be carried away captives, and pray unto the Lord for it: for in the peace thereof shall ye have peace. And for the like cause the Christians of old deemed them- selves bound to pray for the Gentile magistrates; according to that of Tertullian: We pray for you, because with you the empire is shaken: and the other members of ut being shaken, assuredly even we, how far soever we may be thought from troubles, are Sound in some place of the fall®. Further,
5 Let us consider, that subjects are obliged in gratitude and ingenuity, yea in equity and justice, to pray for their princes. or,
They are most nearly related to us, and allied by the most sacred bands; being constituted by God, in his own room, the parents and guardians of their country; being also avowed and accepted for such by solemn vows, and most holy sacraments of alle- giance: whence unto them as such we owe an hum- ble piety, a very respectful affection, a most dutiful observance; the which we cannot better express or exercise, than in our heartiest prayers for their welfare.
§ Vobiscum enim concutitur imperium, concussis etiam cete- ris membris ejus: utique et nos (licet extranei a turbis sestimemur) in aliquo loco casus invenimur.—Tert. Apol. cap. xxxii. [Ed. Pamel. 1617. ]
Christianus nullius est hostis, nedum Imperatoris; quem sciens a Deo suo constitui, necesse est, ut et ipsum diligat, et revereatur, et honoret, et salyum velit,—Id. ad Scap. cap. ii. [Opp. p. 69 ¢.]
Jurant per Deum, et per Christum, et per Spiritum Sanctum et per majestatem Imperatoris, que secundum Deum generi hu- mano diligenda est et colenda,—Veget. [de Re Mil. Lib. 1. cap. 5.)
On the King’s happy Return. 419
They by God are destined to be the protectors of oe the church, the patrons of religion, the fosterers and ———— cherishers of truth, of virtue, of piety: for of the church in the evangelical times it was prophesied,
Kings shall be thy nursing fathers; Thow shalt tsa. xix. suck the breasts of kings; Kings shall minister to is. 16, 10. thee: wherefore to them, not only as men and citi-
zens, but peculiarly as Christians, we owe the high-
est duty; and consequently we must pay the best devotion for them.
To them we stand indebted for the greatest benefits of common life: they necessarily do take much care, they undergo great trouble, they are exposed to many hazards for our advantages; that under their shadow we may enjoy safety and quiet, Lam. iv. we may reap the fruits of our industry, we may — possess the comforts and conveniences of our life, with security from rapine, from contention, from solicitude, from the continual fears of wrong and outrage.
To their industry and vigilancy under God, we owe the fair administration of justice, the protec- tion of right and innocence, the preservation of order and peace, the encouragement of goodness, and correction of wickedness: for They, as the apo- Rom. xi. stle telleth us, ave God’s ministers, attending conti- nually on these very things. They indeed so attend as to deny themselves, and so forego much of their own ease, their pleasure, their satisfaction; being frequently perplexed with cares, continually en- slaved to business, and subject to various inconve- niences, rendering their life to considerate specta- tors very little desirable.
As therefore, according to our Lord’s observa-
27—2
=
=
420 On the King’s happy Return.
tion, they are usually styled Benefactors, so they
_—__— really are; even the worst of them (such as Clau-
Luke xxii. 25.
Acts xxiv.
2, 3-
dius or N ero, of whom our apostles speak) in considerable measure; at least in comparison of anarchy, and considering the mischiefs issuing from want of government. Zhe matter is not flattery: (saith St Chrysostom, himself of all men furthest from a flatterer;) but according to the rea- son of the case’ we must esteem ourselves much obliged to them for the pains they sustain in our behalf, and for the benefits we receive from them. For he indeed must be a very bad governor, to whom that speech of the orator Tertullus may not without glozing be accommodated; Seeing that by thee we enjoy great quietness, and that very worthy deeds are done unto this nation by thy providence, we accept it always, and in all places, most noble Feliz, with all thankfulness.
However, what Seneca saith of philosophers, that They of all inen are most obliged, and most grateful to kings and magistrates, because from their care they enjoy the leiswre, quiet and security of contemplating and practising the best things; wpon which account, saith he, they could not but reve- rence the authors of so great a good as parents’; that is, or should be, far more true of Christians.
h Od kodakela eoti Td mpaypa, dAda Kata Tov Tod Sixaiov yiverat Adyov.—Chrys. in 1 Tim. ii. 1. [Opp. Tom. rv. p. 272.]
' Errare mihi videntur, qui existimant, philosophiz fideliter de- ditos contumaces esse ac refractarios, et contemtores magistratuum ac regum, eorumye per quos publica administrantur. FE contrario enim, nulli adversus illos gratiores sunt; nec immerito, nullis enim plus preestant, quam quibus frui tranquillo otio licet. Itaque hi, quibus aptum ad propositum bene vivendi aditum confert secu-
ritas publica, necesse est auctorem hujus boni ut parentem colant. —Sen. Ep. yxxi.
On the King’s happy Return. 421
That leisure (to use his words) which is spent with SERM. God, and which rendereth us like to God*; the ——~— liberty of studying divine truth, and of serving God with security and quiet; are inestimable benefits, for the which they are indebted to the protection of magistrates: therefore in all reason a grateful retri- bution of good-will, and of all good offices, particu- larly of our prayers, is to be paid to them. Ts 7¢ not very absurd, saith St Chrysostom, that they should labour and venture for us, and we not pray for them'?
6 Whereas we are by divine command fre- pees quently enjoined to fear and reverence, to honour, Rom: xiii. to obey kings; we should look on prayer for them Tit. iii, I. as a principal branch, and the neglect thereof as a..°"™"” notable breach of those duties. For,
As to honour and reverence, it is plain that no exterior signification, in ceremonious unveiling or cringing to them, can so demonstrate it, as doth the wishing them well in our hearts, and from thence framing particular addresses to the divine Majesty for their welfare. Than which practice there can be no surer argument, that we hold them in great account and consideration. And how indeed can we much honour them, for whom we do not vouchsafe so much as to offer our good wishes, or to mention them in our intercessions unto him, who requireth us to make them for all men, and particularly for those for whom we are concerned ? Doth not this omission evidently place them in the lowest rank, beneath the meanest of our friends
* Quanti estimamus hoc otium, quod inter Deos agitur, quod Deos facit ?—Ibid. 1 [Ids ody ove Gromov airods péev bnép Tovrov orpareverOar Kai a ¢@ , es) 26 - > > , > e ete cy >e ‘ - ra oma ridecOat, iv’ jpeis ev adeia Gunv’ pas b€ pnd brép Tay Kw- Suvevdrvtay Kai orparevopevary Troveic Oat Senoers ;—Chrys. ubi supra. |
422 On the King’s happy Return.
SERM. and relations? doth it not imply a very slender
XI.
Ezra vi. 10.
regard had to them ?
And as for obedience, prayer for princes is clearly an instance thereof; seeing it may be sup- posed, that all princes do require it from their sub- jects. Not only Christian princes, who believe God the sole dispenser of all good things, and the great efficacy of devotion in procuring them from him, may be deemed to exact this beneficial office from us; but even heathens and infidels, from their dim notion of a sovereign Providence, (which hath ever been common in the world,) have made an account of this practice; as we may see by that decree of the Persian king in Ezra, charging his officers to furnish the Jewish elders with sacrifices, That, said he, they may offer sacrifices of sweet savour unto the God of heaven, and pray for the life of the king, and of lus sons. And that such was the practice of the Romans even in their heathen- ish state, doth appear from those words of Pliny; We have, saith he, been wont to make vows for the eternity of the empire, and for the welfare of the citizens; yea for the welfare of the princes, and im their behalf for the eternity of the empire™.
Not only pious princes with a serious desire will expect this duty from us; but even profane ones in policy will demand it, as a decent testimony of respect to them, and a proper means of uphold- ing their state ; that they may seem to have place in the most serious regards and solemn perform- ances of their subjects. So that to neglect this
™ Nuncupare yota et pro eternitate imperii, et pro salute civium, imo pro salute principum, ac propter illos pro sternitate imperii, solebamus.—Plin. Paneg. [eap. Ixvii. 3.]
On the King’s happy Return. 423
duty is ever a violation of our due obedience, and See a kind of disloyalty to them. Again,
7 The praying for princes is a service pecu- larly honourable, and very acceptable to God ; which he will interpret as a great respect done to himself: for that thereby we honour his image and character in them, yielding in his presence this special respect to them as his representatives"; for that thereby we avow his government of the world by them as his ministers and deputies; for that thereby we acknowledge all power derived from him, and depending on his pleasure; we ascribe to him an authority paramount above all earthly potentates ; we imply our persuasion, that he alone is absolute Sovereign of the world, Zhe King of: Tim. vi. kings, and Lord of lords, so that princes are nothing otherwise than in subordination to him, can ae nothing without his succour, do owe to him all their power, their safety, their prosperity, and wel- fare°; for that, in fine, thereby disclaiming all other confidences in any son of man, we signify our Ps. exlvi. entire submission to God’s will, and sole confidence ae in his providence. This service therefore is a very erateful kind of adoring our Almighty Lord; and as such St Paul recommendeth it in the words immediately subjoined to our text, Mor this, saith 1Tim. ii.3. he, zs good and acceptable in the sight of God our Saviour.
8 Let us consider, that whereas wisdom, guiding our piety and charity, will especially incline
" Deo vel privatus, vel militans servit, cum fideliter eum dili- git, qui Deo regnat auctore.—Veget. [de Re Mil. Lib. 1. cap. 5.]
° Temperans majestatem Cesaris infra Deum, magis illum com- mendo Deo.—Tert. Apol. cap. xxxiii. [Opp. p. 28 B.]
424 On the King’s happy Return.
SERM. us to place our devotion there where it will be most needful and useful; we therefore chiefly must pray for kings, Bie they do most need our prayers.
The office is most high, and hard to discharge well or happily: wherefore they need extraordi- nary supplies of gifts and graces from the divine bounty.
Their affairs are of greatest weight and import- ance, requiring answerable skill and strength to steer and wield them: wherefore they need from the fountain of wisdom and power special commu- nications of light, of courage, of ability, to conduct, to support, to fortify them in their managements; Ps. i. 12. they need that God should uphold them, [vevpare
nryenourko?, With that princely spirit, for which king David prayed.
They often are to deliberate about matters of dark and uncertain consequence ; they are to judge in cases of dubious and intricate nature; the which to resolve prudently, or to determine uprightly, no human wisdom sufficiently can enable; wherefore
Isai. x12; they need The spirit of counsel, and The Spirit of nee judgment, from the sole dispenser of them, the — great Counsellor and most Righteous Judge. The “vis 1" Visest and ablest of them hath reason to pray with 1 Kingsiii. Solomon, Give thy servant an understanding heart, Wied. ix.4. £0 judge thy people, that I may discern between good Pebaht ond bad; for who is able to judge this thy so great a people? that so, what the Wise Man saith Prov. xvii may be verified, A divine sentence is in the lips of the king, his mouth transgresseth not in judg- 2Sam.xiv. ment: and that of the wise woman, As an angel 14 P (Ps. i. 14. LXX.]
On the King’s happy Return. 425
of God, so is my lord the king to discern good oeae and bad. ) ae They commonly are engaged in enterprises of greatest difficulty, insuperable by the might or industry of man; in regard to which we may say with Hannah, By strength shall no man prevail; Sam. ii. with the Preacher, The race is not to the swift, nor Hecles. ix the battle to the strong; with the Psalmist, There is Pa xed no king saved by the multitude of an host: where-** fore they need aid and succour from the Almighty, to carry them through, and bless their designs with SUCCESS. They are most exposed to dangers and disasters; (standing like high towers, most obnoxious to the winds and tempests of fortune ;) having usually many envious ill-willers, many disaffected male- contents, many both open enemies and close insi- diators; from whose force or treachery no human providence can sufficiently guard them: they do therefore need the protection of the ever-vigilant Keeper of Israel to secure them: for, Hacept the Ps. xxi. 4; Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain; a 1; except the Lord preserve the king, his guards, his **""'* armies surround him to no purpose. They have the natural infirmities of other men, and far beyond other men are subject to external temptations. The malicious spirit (as in the case of Job, of David, of Ahab, of Joshua the high Zech. iit. priest, is expressed) is ever waiting for occasion, ever craving permission of God to seduce and per- vert them; success therein being extremely condu- cible to his villainous designs. The world continu- ally doth assault them with all its advantages, with all its baits of pleasure, with all its enticements to
426 On the King’s happy Return.
SERM. pride and vanity, to oppression and injustice, to
_——_ sloth, to luxury, to exorbitant self-will and self-
Eecles.viii. conceit, to every sort of vicious practice. Their
‘
eminency of state, their affluence of wealth, their uncontrollable power, their exemption from com- mon restraints, their continual distractions and en- cumbrances by varieties of care and business, their multitude of obsequious followers, and scarcity of faithful friends to advise or reprove them, their having no obstacles before them to check their wills, to cross their humours, to curb their lusts and passions, are so many dangerous snares unto them: wherefore they do need plentiful measures of grace, and mighty assistances from God, to pre- serve them from the worst errors and sins; into which otherwise it is almost a miracle if they are not plunged.
And being they are so lable to sin, they must consequently stand often in need of God’s mercy to bear with them, and to pardon them’.
They therefore, upon so many accounts needing special help and grace from Heaven, do most need prayers to derive it thence for them.
All princes indeed do need them. Good princes need many prayers for God’s help, to uphold and confirm them in their virtue: bad princes need de- precations of God’s wrath and judgment toward them, for offending his Majesty; together with supplications for God’s grace to convert and reform them: the most desperate and incorrigible need prayers, that God would overrule and restrain them from doing mischief to themselves and others. All
4 ‘O meiota mpdcowy, mrc&io apapraver Bporav.
{Eurip. Ginom. Frag. 1.]
On the King’s happy Return. 427
princes having many avocations and temptations, — hindering ee to pray enough for themselves, do need “supplemental aids from the devotions of others.
Wherefore if we love them, if we love our country, if we love ourselves, if we tender the interests of truth, of piety, of common good, we, considering their case, and manifold need of pray- ers, will not fail earnestly to sue for them; that God would afford needful assistance to them in the administration of their high office, in the im- provement of their great talents, in the conduct and management of their arduous affairs; that he graciously would direct them in their perplexed counsels, would back them in their difficult under- takings, would protect their persons from dangers, would keep their hearts from the prevalency of temptations, would pardon their failings and tres- passes. Again,
9 Whereas God hath declared, that he hath special regard to princes, and a more than ordi- nary care over them, because they have a peculiar relation to him, as his representatives, the Mzinis- Wisd. vi.4. ters of his kingdom, the main instruments of his providence, whereby he conveyeth his favours, and dispenseth his justice to men; because also the good of mankind, which he especially tender- eth, is mainly concerned in their welfare; whereas,
I say, It is he that gweth salvation unto kings; That Ps. exiiv. giveth great deliverance to his king, and sheweth Sees es mercy to his anointed; that hath the king’s heart, Ix. rr. and his breath, and all his ways in his hand: even! upon this account our prayers for them are the more required. Yor it is a method of God, and an esta-
Dan. v. 23.
SERM. XII
Ezra viii. 22.
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blished rule of divine providence, not to dispense special blessings without particular conditions, and the concurrence of our duty in observance of what he prescribeth in respect to them. Seeing then he hath enjoined, that, in order to our obtaining those great benefits which issue from his special care over princes, we should pray for it, and seek it from his hands; the omission of this duty will intercept it, or bereave us of its advantages; nor in that case may we expect any blessings of that kind. As without praying for ourselves we must not expect private favours from heaven; so with- out praying for our prince we cannot well hope for public blessings. For, as a profane person (who in effect disavoweth God, by not regarding to seek his favour and aid) is not qualified to receive any good from him; so a profane nation (which dis- claimeth God’s government of the world, by not invoking his benediction on those who moderate it under him) is not well capable of common benefits. It is upon all accounts true which Ezra said, The hand of our God is upon all them for good that seek him: but his power and his wrath is against all them that forsake him. If therefore we desire, that our prince should not lose God’s special re- gard, if we would not forfeit the benefits thereof to ourselves, we must conspire in hearty prayers for him.
10 To engage and encourage us in which prac- tice, we may further consider, that such prayers, offered duly, (with frequency and constancy, with sincerity and zeal,) do always turn to good ac- count, and never want good effect: the which, if it be not always easily discernible, yet it is certainly
On the King’s happy Return. 429
real; if it be not perfect, as we may desire, yet it is
competent, as expediency requireth, or as the con- —
dition of things will bear.
There may be impediments to a full success of the best prayers; they may not ever prevail to render princes completely good, or extremely pros- perous: for some concurrence of their own will is requisite to produce their virtue, God rarely work- ing with irresistible power, or fatal efficacy; and the state of things, or capacities of persons, are not always fitly suited for prosperity. Yet are not such prayers ever wholly vain or fruitless; for God never prescribeth means unavailable to the end: he never would have commanded us particularly to pray for kings, if he did not mean to bestow a good issue to that practice.
And, surely, he that hath promised to hear all requests, with faith and sincerity and incessant earnestness presented to him, cannot fail to hear those which are of such consequence, which are so agreeable to his will, which do melude so much honesty and charity. In this case, surely we may have some confidence, according to that of St John, This is the confidence we have in him, that, of we ask any thing according to his will, he heareth us.
As the good bishop, observing St Austin’s mother, with what constancy and passionateness she did pray for her son, being then engaged in ways of error and vanity, did encourage her, say- ing, It is impossible that a son of those devotions should perish’; so may we hopefully presume, and encourage ourselves, that a prince will not mis-
Fieri non potest, ut filius istarum lacrymarum pereat.—Aug. Conf. m1. 12. (Opp. Tom. 1. col. 96 F.]
1 John vy. ryt
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SERM. carry, for whose welfare many good people do earnestly solicit: Fieri non potest, ut princeps astarum lacrymarum pereat. James v. You know in general the mighty efficacy of prayer; what pregnant assurances there are, and how wonderful instances thereof occur in holy scripture, both in relation to public and private Matt. xxi, blessings: how it is often promised, that All things, Matt. vii. whatsoever we shall ask in prayer, believing, we Gen xx, shall receive; and that, Whoever asketh receiveth, 17. xi, and he that seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh a;xxi-7- it shall be opened: how the prayer of Abraham
Ps, cvi. 30.
OT) did heal Abimelech, and his family of barrenness;
1Sam.i.1o. how the prayers of Moses did quench the fire, and
a “cure the bitings of the fiery serpents; how the yam prayer of Joshua did arrest the sun; how the
«Kings prayer of Hannah did procure Samuel to her, as
XVii. 21,22.
= iv. his name doth import; how Ehias’s prayers did 7 Kings open and shut the heavens; how the same holy
xiii. 6.
Deut. iv. prophet’s prayer did reduce a departed soul, and Neh.ix.27, that of Elisha did effect the same, and that of
ais ia another prophet did restore Jeroboam’s withered
9) 28. hand; how the prayers of God’s people frequently ud. iii. 15; bviigs/t; did raise them up saviours, and When they cried
* 1" unto the Lord in their trouble, he delivered them out 2Chron. of their distresses : how the prayers of Asa discom-
xiv. II;
xx. 3,12, fited a million of Arabians, and those of Jehosha-
23; XXXxil.
20,21; | Phat destroyed a numerous army of his enemies by = their own hands, and those of Hezekiah brought
13 Esth. iv. down an angel from heaven to cut off the Assy-
16.
a 11;rlans, and those of Manasses restored him to his San. chap. kingdom, and those of Esther saved her people li. iv. Vv. Vil.
viii. ix. x. from the brink of ruin, and those of Nehemiah “inclined a pagan king’s heart to favour his pious
ES -
On the King’s happy Return. 431
design for re-edifying Jerusalem, and those of pis Daniel obtained strange visions and discoveries. How Noah, Job, eed Moses, and Samuel are aE. xiv. represented as powerful intercessors with God ; Jer. xv. r. and consequently it is intimated, that the great things achieved by them were chiefly done by the
force of their prayers.
And seeing prayers in so many cases are so effectual, and work such miracles; what may we hope from them in this, wherein God so expressly and particularly directeth us to use them? If our prayers can so much avail to our personal and pri- vate advantage, if they may be very helpful to our friends; how much shall the devotions of many good men, all levelled at one mark, and aiming at a public most considerable good, be prevalent with the divine goodness! However, if God be not moved by prayers to convert a prince from all sin, to make him do all the good he might, to bless him in all matters; yet he may thence be induced to restrain him from much evil, to keep him from being worse, or from doing worse than otherwise would be; he may dispose him to do many things well, or better than of himself he would do; he may preserve him from many disasters otherwise incident to him: which will be considerable effects of prayer.
tr I shall add but one general consideration more, which is this, that prayer is the only allow- able way of redressing our case, if we do suffer by or for princes.
Are they bad, or do they misdemean them- selves in their administration of government and justice? we may not by any violent or rough way
432 On the King’s happy Return.
SERM. attempt to reclaim them; for they are not account- _—_ able to us, or liable to our correction. Where the ta word of a king is, there is power: and who shall
say to him, What doest thou? was the Preacher's doctrine.
Do they oppress us, or abuse us? do they treat us harshly, or cruelly persecute us? we must not kick against them, nor strive to nght ourselves
Prov.xxx. by resistance. For, Agaimst a king, saith the 1Sam. Wise Man, there is no rising wo: and, Who, said David, can stretch out his hand against the Lord’s Rom. xiii. anointed, and be guiltless? and, They, saith St Paul, that resist, shall receive to themselves dam- nation.
We must not so much as ease our stomach, or discharge our passion, by railing or inveighing Exod. xxii. goainst them. For, Thou shalt not speak evil of Acts xxiii. the ruler of thy people, is a divine law; and, to 2 Pet. ii. Blaspheme, or revile, dignities, is by St Peter and Judes, St Jude reprehended as a notable crime.
We must not be bold or free im taxing their
Job xxxiv. actions. For, Js it fit, said Elihu, to say to a king,
Ps. Ixxxix, Thou art wicked, and to princes, Ye are ungodly ?
sa and, To reproach the footsteps of God’s anointed, is implied to be an impious practice.
We must forbear even complaining and mur-
Jude 16. muring against them. For murmurers are con- demned as no mean sort of offenders; and the Jews in the wilderness were sorely punished for such behaviour.
Eccles. x. We must not (according to the Preacher's
Isai. viii, advice) so much as curse them in our thoughts; or
ce not entertain ill conceits and ill wishes in our minds toward them.
On the King’s happy Return. 435
To do these things is not only high presumption SF
in regard to them, (inconsistent with the dutiful affection and respect which we owe to them,) but it is flat impiety toward God, and an invasion of
his authority; who alone is Ang of kings, and hath '
reserved to himself the prerogative of judging, of rebuking, of punishing kings, when he findeth cause.
These were the misdemeanours of those in the late times, who, instead of praying for their sove- reign, did clamour and rail at him, did asperse him with foul imputations, did accuse his proceedings, did raise tumults, and levy war against him, pre- tending by rude force to reduce him to his duty; so usurping on their prince, or rather on God him- self; assuming his right, and taking his work out of his hands; discovering also therein great pro- faneness of mind, and distrust of God’s providence; as if God, being implored by prayer, could not, or would not, had it been needful, without such irregular courses, have redressed those evils in church or state, which they pretended to feel or fear.
Nothing therefore in such cases is left to us for our remedy or ease, but having recourse to God himself, and seeking relief from his hand in his good time, by converting our prince, or direct- ing him into a good course; however comforting ourselves in the conscience of submitting to God’s will’. |
This is the only method St Paul did prescribe,
* Absit enim ut indigne feramus ea nos pati que optamus, aut ultionem a nobis aliquam machinemur, quam a Deo expectamus.— Tert. ad Scap. cap. ii. [Opp. p. 69 p.]
BS VOU. I 28
SERM. XII.
434 On the King’s happy Return.
even when Nero, a most vile, flagitious man, a sorry and naughty governor as could be, a mon- strous tyrant, and most bloody persecutor, (the very inventor of persecution,) did sway the empire’. He did not advise Christians to stand upon their suard, to contrive plots, to provide arms, to raise mutinies and insurrections against him; but to offer supplications, prayers, and intercessions for him, as the best means of their security and com- fort". And this was the course of the primitive Christians, during their hard condition under the domination of heathen princes, impugners of their religion: Prayers and tears were then the only arms of the church; whereby they long defended it from ruin, and at last advanced it to most glo- rious prosperity*.
Indeed, if, not assuming the liberty to find fault with princes, we would practise the duty of seek- ing God for his blessing on their proceedings; if, forbearing to scan and censure acts of state, we would earnestly implore God’s direction of them; if, leaving to conceive disgusts, and vent complaints about the state of things, we would assiduously petition God for the settlement of them in good
* Qui non dicam regum, sed omnium hominum, et vel imma- nium bestiarum sordidissimus, dignus exstitit, qui persecutionem in Christianos primus inciperet.—Sulp. Sey. [Hist. Sac. Lib. 11. cap. 28. p. 236.]
“Ita nos magis oramus pro salute Imperatoris, ab eo eam postulantes, qui preestare potest. Et utique ex disciplina patientie divine agere nos, satis manifestum esse vobis potest, cum tanta hominum multitudo, pars pene major civitatis cujusque, in silentio et modestia agimus.—Tert. [ubi supra. ]
* Fundendo sanguinem, et patiendo magis quam faciendo con- tumelias, Christi fundata est ecclesia. Persecutionibus crevit,
martyriis coronata est.—Hieron. [ad Theoph. Ep. xxxix. Opp. Tom. Iv. p. ii. col. 338.]
————————
On the King’s happy Return. 435
order; if, instead of being shrewd politicians, or SERM. smart judges in such matters, we would be devout —~ orators and humble solicitors at the throne of grace ;
our endeavours surely would find much better effect toward public advantage: we certainly might do
more good in our closets by a few hearty wishes uttered there, than by all our tattling or jangling politics in corners.
There are great contrivances to settle things: every one hath his model of state, or method of policy, to communicate for ordering the state; each is zealous for his own conceit, and apt to be dis- pleased with those who dissent from him: but it is, as the fairest and justest, so the surest and like- liest way of reducing things to a firm composure, (without more ado, letting the world alone to move on its own hinges, and not impertinently troubling ourselves or others with the conduct of it,) simply to request of Almighty God, the sove- reign Governor and sole Disposer of things, that he would lead his own vicegerents in the management of the charge by himself committed to them. Be Phil.iv. 6. careful for nothing ; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God, is a rule very applicable to this case.
As God’s providence is the only sure ground of our confidence or hope for the preservation of church and state, or for the restitution of things into a stable quiet; so it is only our hearty prayers, joined with a conscientious observance of God’s laws, whereby we can incline Providence to favour us. By them alone we may hope to save things from sinking into disorder, we may assuage
. 28—2
436 On the King’s happy Return.
SERM. the factions, we may defeat the machinations —— against the public welfare.
12 Seeing then we have so many good argu- ments and motives inducing to pray for kings, it is no wonder that, to back them, we may also allege the practice of the church, continually in all times performing this duty im its most sacred offices, especially in the celebration of the Holy Communion’.
St Paul indeed, when he saith, I exhort first of all, that prayers be made, doth chiefly impose this duty on Timothy, or supposeth it incumbent on the pastors of the church, to take special care, that prayers be made for this purpose, and offered up in the church jointly by all Christians’: and ac- cordingly the ancient Christians, as Tertullian doth assure us, did Always pray for the emperors, that God would grant them a long life, a secure reign, a safe family, valiant armies, a faithful senate, a loyal people, a quiet world, and whatever they, as men or as emperors, could wish*. Thus, addeth he, even for their persecutors, and in the very pangs of their sufferings, they did not fail to prac- tise. Likewise of the church in his time St Chry- sostom telleth us, that All communicants did know
¥ Constit. Apost. v1. 13. [Cotel. Pat. Apost. Tom. 1. p. 404.] Cf. m1. 57. (Ibid. p. 265.]
* Polycarp. ad Phil. [eap. xii. (Antiq. Vers.) Cotel. Pat. Apost. Tom. mu. p. 189.]
* Precantes sumus omnes semper pro omnibus Imperatoribus, vitam illis prolixam, imperium securum, domum tutam, exercitus fortes, senatum fidelem, populum probum, orbem quietum, que- cunque hominis et Cxsaris vota sunt.—Tert. Apol. cap. xxx. [Opp. p. 27 B.]
Hoe agite, boni presides, extorquete animam Deo supplicantem pro Imperatore.—lIbid. [c.]
On the King’s happy Return. 437 —
how every day, both at even and morning, they did make supplication for all the world, and for the emperor, and for all that are im authority”.
And in the Greek liturgies (the composure whereof is fathered on St Chrysostom) there are divers prayers interspersed for the emperors, couched in terms very pregnant and respectful.
If the offices of the Roman church, and of the churches truckling under it, in latter times, shall seem more defective or sparing in this point of service, the reason may be, for that a superlative regard to the solar or pontifical authority (as pope Innocent IIT. distinguished) did obscure their de- votion for the lunar or regal majesty’. But our church hath been abundantly careful, that we should in most ample manner discharge this duty ; having in each of her holy offices directed us to pray for our king in expressions most full, hearty, and lively.
She hath indeed been charged as somewhat lavish or over-liberal of her devotions in this case. But it is a good fault, and we little need fear over- doing in observance of a precept so very reason- able, and so important: supposing that we have a
» Kal rotro tcacw oi piorat, mas Kal Exaorny Hpepay yiverat, Kat €v €amépa kal €v mpwia: mas tmép mavTos Tod Kécpov, Kai Baoiéwv kal Tavrayv Tov ev brepoxy dvTwv, Trovovpeba THY Senow,—Chrys. in 1 Tim. ii. 1. [Opp. Tom. tv. p. 271.]
© [Ad firmamentum igitur cceli, hoe est Universalis Ecclesiz, fecit Deus duo magna luminaria, id est, duas instituit dignitates, que sunt pontificalis auctoritas, et regalis potestas; sed illa que preeest diebus, id est, spiritualibus, major est ; que vero carnalibus minor; ut quanta est inter Solem et Lunam, tanta inter Pontifices et Reges differentia cognoscatur.—P. Innoc. III. in Decret. Greg. IX. Lib. I. tit. xxxiii. cap. 6. Corp. Jur. Can. Tom. 11. p. 59. Ed. Pith. Paris. 1687. |
SERM. ».@
SERM. XII.
Ps. exlv. 18; xviii.6; Ixxvil. 2; ]xxxvi. 7; CXVill. 5 ; exhi. x; evii. 6. James v. Gy
Ps. Ixxxii. sy
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due care to join our heart with the church’s words, and to the frequency of prayers for our prince do confer a suitable fervency. If we be not dead, or merely formal, we can hardly be too copious in this kind of devotion; reiteration of words can do no harm, being accompanied with the renovation of our desires. Our text itself will bear us out in such a practice; the apostle therein by variety of expression appearing solicitous, that abundance of prayers for kings should be offered in the church, and no sort of them omitted. y.
There are so many general inducements to this duty at all times; and there are beside divers par- ticular reasons enforcing it now, in the present state and posture of things.
Times of trouble, of danger, of fear, of darkness and perplexity, of distraction and distress, of guilt and deserved wrath, are most seasonable for re- course to the divine help and mercy in prayer*.
And are not ours such? are they not much like to those of which the Psalmist saith, Zhey know not, neither will they understand; they walk on in darkness: all the foundations of the earth are out of course? or like those of which our Lord spake,
ii when there was Upon the earth distress of nations,
with perpleaity; men’s hearts failing them for fear, and for looking after those things which were coming on the earth?
Are not the days gloomy, so that no human providence can see far, no wisdom can descry the issue of things?
4 Tnops senatus auxilii humani ad deos populum ac vota vertit. —Liv. m1. 7. Cf. v. 16. [Jamque Romani, desperata ope humana, fata et Deos spectabant. }
On the King’s happy Return. 439
Is it not a very unsettled world, wherein all BEES the public frames are shaken almost off the hinges, and the minds of men extremely discomposed with Ps. evii.27. various passions; with fear, suspicion, anger, dis- content, and impatience? How from dissensions in opinion do violent factions and feuds rage; the hearts of men boiling with fierce animosities, and being exasperated against one another, beyond any hopes or visible means of reconcilement!
Are not the fences of discipline cast down? Is there any conscience made of violating laws? Is not the dread of authority exceedingly abated, and all government overborne by unbridled licentious- ness?
How many adversaries are there, bearing ill Ps. cxxix. will to our Sion! How many turbulent, malicious, 2 pigs crafty Spirits, eagerly bent, and watching for oc- casion to subvert the church, to disturb the state, to introduce to confusion in all things! How many Edomites, who say of Jerusalem, (both ec- clesiastical and civil,) Down with it, down with it Ps. even to the ground! oe
Have we not great reason to be fearful of God’s just displeasure, and that heavy judgments will be poured on us for our manifold heinous provoca- tions and crying sins; for the prodigious growth of atheism, infidelity, and profaneness; for the rife practice of all impieties, iniquities, and impurities, with most impudent boldness, or rather with out- rageous insolence; for the extreme dissoluteness in manners; the gross neglect or contempt of all duties; the great stupidity and coldness of people generally as to all concerns of religion; for the want of religious awe toward God, of charity to-
SERM.
Tsai. xliii. EC.
Hos. xiii.4. Jer. xiv. 8.
Matt. viii.
Py 25.
Isai. lviii, 12,
440 On the King’s happy Return.
ward our neighbour, of respect to our superiors, of sobriety in our conversation; for our ingratitude for many great mercies, and incorrigibleness under many sore chastisements, our insensibleness of many plain warnings, loudly calling us to repent- ance
Ts not all the world about us in combustion, cruel wars raging every where, and Christendom weltering in blood? and although at present, by God’s mercy, we are free, who knows but that soon, by God’s justice, the neighbouring flames may catch our houses?
In fine, is not our case palpably such, that for any good composure or reinstatement of things in good order, for upholding truth and sound doc- trine, for reducing charity and peace, for reviving the spirit of piety, and bringing virtue again into request ; for preserving state and church from ruin ; we can have no confidence or reasonable hope, but in the good providence and merciful succour of Almighty God; Beside whom there is no Saviour; who alone is The hope of Israel, and Saviour thereof in time of trouble? we now having great cause to pray with our Lord’s disciples in the storm, Lord, save us, we perish.
Upon such considerations, and others whereof I suppose you are sufficiently apprehensive, we now especially are obliged earnestly to pray for our king, that God in mercy would preserve his royal person, and inspire his mind with light, and endue his heart with grace, and in all things bless him to us, to be A repairer of our breaches, and a restorer of paths to dwell in; so that under him we may lead a quiet life in all godliness and honesty.
On the King’s happy Leturn. 44]
I have done with the first duty, (Prayer for SERM. kings;) upon which I have the rather so largely insisted, because it is very seasonable to our present condition.
II. The other (Thanksgiving) I shall but touch, and need not perhaps to do more. For,
t As to general inducements, they are the same, or very like to those which are for prayer; it being plain, that whatever we are concerned to pray for, when we want it, that we are bound to thank God for, when he vouchsafeth to bestow it. And if common charity should dispose us to resent the good of princes with complacence ; if their wel- fare be a public benefit; if ourselves are interested in it, and partake great advantages thereby; if in equity and ingenuity we are bound to seek it; then, surely, we are much engaged to thank God, the bountiful donor of it, for his goodness in con- ferring it.
2 As for particular motives, suiting the present occasion, I need not by information or impression of them further to stretch your patience; seeing you cannot be ignorant or insensible of the grand benefits by the divine goodness bestowed on our king, and on ourselves, which this day we are bound with all grateful acknowledgment to com- memorate. Wherefore, instead of reciting trite stories, and urging obvious reasons, (which a small recollection will suggest to you,) I shall only re- quest you to join with me in the practice of the duty, and in acclamation of praise to God. Even SO
Blessed be God, who hath given to us so gra- 1 Kings i cious and benign a prince, (the experiments of **
442 On the King’s happy Return.
SERM. whose clemency and goodness no history can pa- rallel,) to sit on the throne of his blessed father and renowned ancestors.
Ps. xviii. Blessed be God, who hath protected him in so
46; lxxxix. :
22,23. many encounters, hath saved him from so many dangers and snares, hath delivered him from so oreat troubles.
Blessed be God, who in so wonderful a man- ner, by such miraculous trains of providence, did reduce him to his country, and reinstate him in the possession of his rights; thereby vindicating
Ps. xcviii. his own just providence, Declaring his salvation,
‘ and openly shewing his righteousness in the sight of all people.
Blessed be God, who in him and with him did restore to us our ancient good constitution of go- vernment, our laws and liberties, our peace and quiet; rescuing us from lawless usurpations and tyrannical yokes, from the insultings of error and iniquity, from horrible distractions and confusions.
Ps. exxvi. Ever blessed be God, who hath Turned the
Iiai. xxx. captivity of Sion; hath raised our church from the
rf dust, and reestablished the sound doctrine, the decent order, the wholesome discipline thereof ; hath restored true religion with its supports, ad- vantages, and encouragements.
Blessed be the Lord, who hath granted us to continue these sixteen years in the peaceable frui- tion of those blessings.
Ps, Ixvi. Praised be God, who hath not cast out our 20. .
prayer, nor turned his mercy from us. Ps. xxx, Praised be God, Who hath turned our heaviness
Il.
into joy, hath put off our sackcloth, and girded us with gladness.
On the King’s happy Return. 443
Let our mouth speak the praise of the Lord; SERM. and let all flesh bless his holy name for ever and mee ever. a
The Lord liveth, and blessed be our rock; and ee xviii. let the God of our salvation be exalted. iss
Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, who only fee doeth wondrous things; and blessed be his glorious” ” name for ever; and let the whole earth be filled with lis glory. Amen, and amen.
Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, from ever- Ps.cvi. 48; lasting to everlasting: and let all the people say, iss
Amen. Praise ye the Lord. 1 Chron. xvi. 8—36.
SERMON XIII.
ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON.
Psatm LXIV., 9, ro.
And all men shall fear, and shall declare the work of God; for they shail wisely consider of his doing. The righteous shall be glad in the Lord, and shall trust in him; and all the upright im heart shall glory.
SERM.
ERM. TF we should search about for a case parallel to
that which we do now commemorate, we should, perhaps, hardly find one more patly such, than is that, which is implied in this Psalm: and if we would know the duties incumbent on us in reference to such an occasion, we could scarce better learn them otherwhere than in our text.
With attention perusing the Psalm, we may therein observe, that its great author was appre- hensive of a desperate plot by a confederacy of wicked and spiteful enemies, with great craft and Ver.s. gecrecy, contrived against his safety. They, saith he, encourage themselves in an evil matter: they commune of laying snares privily; they say, Who shall see then? That for preventing the blow threatened by this design, (whereof he had some glimpse, or some presumption, grounded upon the knowledge of their implacable and active malice,)
* Noy. 5, 1673.
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 445
he doth implore divine protection : Hide me, saith SERM. he, from the secret counsel of the wicked, from the insurrection of the workers of iniquity. That he Y** did confide in God’s mercy and justice for the sea- sonable defeating, for the fit avenging their machi- nation: God, saith he, shall shoot at them with an Ver. 7. arrow; suddenly shall they be wounded. That they should themselves become the detectors of their crime, and the instruments of the exemplary pun- ishment due thereto: They, addeth he, shall make Ver. 8. their own tongue to fall wpon themselves: all that see them shall flee away.
Such was the case ; the which, unto what pas- sage in the history it doth relate, or whether it belongeth to any we have recorded, it may not be easy to determine. LExpositors commonly do refer it to the designs of Saul upon David's life. But this seeming purely conjecture, not founded upon any express words, or pregnant intimations in the text, I shall leave that inquiry in its own uncer- tainty. It sufficeth to make good its pertinency, that there was such a mischievous conspiracy, deeply projected, against David; (a very great personage, in whose safety the public state of God’s people was principally concerned ; he being then king of Israel, at least im designation, and there- fore in the precedent Psalm, endited in Saul’s time, Ps. lxiii. is so styled;) from the peril whereof he, by the *” special providence of God, was rescued, with the notable disappointment and grievous confusion of those who managed it. The which case (at least in kind, if not in degree) beareth a plain resem- blance to that which lieth before us.
And the duties, which upon that occasion are
446 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
eee signified to concern people then, do no less now sort to us; the which, as they le couched in our text, are thane t Wisely to consider God’s doing; 2 To fear; 3 To declare God’s work; 4 To be glad in the Lord; 5 To trust in God; 6 To glory. Of which the first three are represented as more generally concerning men; the others as apper- taining more peculiarly to nghteous and upright persons.
These duties it shall be my endeavour some- what to explain and press, in a manner applicable to the present case. I call them duties; and to warrant the doing so, it is requisite to consider, that all these particulars may be understood in a double manner; either as declarative of event, or as directive of practice upon such emergencies.
When God doth so interpose his hand, as sig- nally to check and confound mischievous enter- prises, it will be apt to stir up in the minds of men an apprehension of God’s special providence, to strike into their hearts a dread of his power and justice, to wring from their mouths suitable declar- ations and acknowledgments; and_ particularly then good men will be affected with pious joy; they will be encouraged to confide in God, they will be moved to glory, or to express a triumphant satis- faction in God’s proceedings. These events natu- rally do result from such providential occurrences ; for production of these events such occurrences are purposely designed ; and accordingly (where men are not by profane opinions or affections much - indisposed) they do commonly follow.
But yet they are not proposed simply as events, but also as matters of duty: for men are obliged
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 447
readily to admit such impressions upon their minds, —_ hearts, and lives, from the special works of Provi- dence ; they are bound not to cross those natural tendencies, not to frustrate those wise intents of God, aiming at the production of such good dispo- sitions and good practices: whence if those effects do not arise, as often notoriously they do not in some persons, men thereby do incur much guilt and blame.
It is indeed ordinary to represent matter of duty in this way, expressing those practices conse- quent in effect, which im obligation should follow, according to God’s purpose, and the nature of causes ordered by him. As when, for instance, God in the law had prescribed duty, and threatened sore punishment on the disobedient, it is subjoined, And all the people shall hear, and Sear, and cdo no ae gs more presumptuously: the meaning is, that such 17; exemplary punishment is in its nature apt, and its ‘ae design tendeth to produce such effects, although not ever, questionless, with due success, so as to prevent all transgression of those laws. So also,
When, saith the Prophet, thy judgments are in the a ve land, the inhabitants of the world will learn right- eousness: the sense is, that divine judgments in themselves are instructive of duty, it is their drift to inform men therein, and men ought to learn that lesson from them; although in effect divers there be, whom no judgments can make wiser or better; such as those of whom in the same Pro- phet it is said, The people turneth not unto him Isai.ix.13. that smiteth them; and in another, In vain have Ser. ii. 30; I smitten your children, they received no correc- Xéh.ix.29. tion. As therefore frequently otherwhere, so also
soe x
Isai. v. 12 Ps. xxviii. 55 X. 4.
448 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
here, this kind of expression may be taken chiefly to import duty. To begin then with the first of these duties.
1 We are upon such occasions obliged Wisely to consider, (or, as the Greek rendereth it, Zunéva, To understand, or To perceive, as our old transla- tion hath it) God’s doing’. This I put in the first place, as previous in nature, and influential upon the rest: whence (although in the Hebrew it be knit to the rest, as they all are to one another, by the conjunctive particle ve, and, yet) we do trans- late it casually, Yor they shall wisely consider, for they shall perceive; because indeed without duly considering and rightly understanding such occur- rences to proceed from God, none of the other acts can or will be performed: attentive consideration is needful to beget knowledge and persuasion ; these to breed affection and practice.
There are many who, in such cases, are nowise apprehensive of God’s special providence, or affected with it; because they do not consider, or do not con- sider wisely and intelligently.
Some are very inobservant and careless in re- gard to things of this nature; so drowsy and osci- tant, as not to attend to whatever passeth, or to mind what God acteth in the world: such as those
- of whom the Prophet saith, The harp, and the viol,
the tabret, and pipe, and wine, are in their feasts :
but they regard not the work of the Lord, nor the
operation of his hands: that is, their minds are
so amused by wanton divertisements, their hearts
are so immersed in sensual enjoyments, as nowise b sbvowns anivyn
Ta rowjpata airod ovvikav.—LXX.
—
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 449
to observe the most notable occurrences of Provi- SERM. dence. ae
Others, although they do ken and regard what is done, as matter of news, or story, entertaining curiosity and talk: yet out of sloth or stupidity do little consider it, or study whence it springeth; contenting themselves with none, or with any superficial account which fancy or appearance sug- gesteth: like beasts they do take in things obvious to their sense, and perhaps stand gazing on them; but do not make any careful reflection, or inquiry into their original causes and reasons; taking (as a dog, when he biteth the stone flung at him, or as a child that is angry with the log he falleth on) whatever appeareth next to be the principal cause: such as the Psalmist again toucheth, when he saith, A brutish man knoweth not, neither doth a Ps. xcii. 6. fool understand this: and as he doth acknowledge himself on one occasion to have been; So foolish Ps. lxxiii. was I, and ignorant ; I was as a beast before thee.
Others pretend to consider much, and seem very inquisitive; yet (being misguided by vain pre- judices or foul affections) do not consider wisely, or well understand these matters; the result of their care and study about them being to father them on wrong causes, ascribing them to the mere con- duct and agency of visible causes, hurried by a necessary swinge or rolling on by a casual fluctua- tion of things; not descrying God’s hand in them, but profanely discarding and disclaiming it: such as those in the Psalms, who so reflected on Provi- dence as to say, How doth God know? and is Ps. isxiii. there knowledge in the Most High? The Lord 3.’st:. doth not see, neither doth the God of Jacob regard
B. 8. VOL, 1. 29
SERM. XIII
Tsai. lii. 10; XVI Ti. Deut.xxvi.
IPs. cyi. 7.
John xii. 37-
Numb.xvi. 32, 35,41.
450 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
zt; such as hath been the brood of Epicurean and profane considerers in all times, who have earn- estly plodded, and strained their wits, to exclude God from any inspection or influence upon our affairs.
Some indeed there have been so very dull and stupid, or so perverse and profane, as not to discern God’s hand, when it was made bare, raised up, and stretched out in the achievement of most pro- digious works; not to read Providence, when set forth in the largest and fairest print: such as those of whom it is said in the Psalm, Our fathers under- stood not thy wonders in Egypt; and those of whom it is observed in the Gospel, Though he had done so many miracles before them, yet they believed not: such as the mutinous people, who, although they beheld the earth swallowing up Korah with his complices, and a fire from the Lord consuming the men that offered incense; yet presently did fall a charging Moses and Aaron, saying, Ye have killed the people of the Lord. No wonder then, if many do not perceive the same hand, when it is wrapped up in a complication with inferior causes; when it is not lifted up so high, or so far extended in miraculous performances.
The special providence of God in events here effected or ordered by him, is indeed commonly not discernible without good judgment and great care ; it is not commonly impressed upon events in cha- racters so big and clear, as to be legible to every eye, or to any eye not endued with a sharp perspi- cacy, not applying an industrious heedfulness: the tracts thereof are too fine and subtle to be descried by a dim sight, with a transient glance, or upon a
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 451
gross view: it is seldom so very conspicuous, that persons incredulous, or any-wise indisposed to admit it, can easily be convinced thereof, or con- strained to acknowledge it: it is often (upon many accounts, from many causes) very obscure, and not easily discernible to the most sagacious, most watchful, most willing observers. For, the instru- ments of Providence being free agents, acting with unaccountable variety, nothing can happen which may not be imputed to them with some colourable pretence. Divine and human influences are so twisted and knit together, that it is hard to sever them. The manner of divine efficacy is so very soft and gentle, that we cannot easily trace its foot- steps. God designeth not commonly to exert his hand in a notorious way, but often purposely doth conceal it. Whereas also it is not fit to charge upon God’s special hand of providence any event, wherein special ends of wisdom or goodness do not shine; it is often hard to discover such ends, which usually are wrapped in perplexities: because God act- eth variously, (according to circumstances of things, and the disposition, capacity, or state of objects,) so as to do the same thing for different ends, and different things for the same end: because there are different ends, unto which Providence in vari- ous order and measure hath regard, which our short and narrow prospect cannot reach: because God, in prosecution of his ends, is not wont to pro- ceed in the most direct and compendious way; but windeth about in a large circuit, enfoldng many concurrent and subordinate designs: because the expediency of things to be permitted or performed doth not consist in single acts or events, but in 29—2
SERM. XIII.
452 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
SERM. many conspiring to one common end: because we XIII. cannot apprehend the consequences, nor balance the conveniences of things in order to good ends: be- cause we are apt to measure things by their con- gruity to our opinions, expectations, and affections: because many proceedings of God depend upon grounds inaccessible to our apprehension; such as his own secret decrees, the knowledge of men’s thoughts, close purposes, clandestine designs, true qualifications and merits; his prescience of contin- gent events, and what the result will be from the combination of numberless causes: because some- times he doth act in methods of wisdom, and by rules of justice, surpassing our capacity to know, either from the finiteness of our nature, or the feebleness of our reason, or the meanness of our state and circumstances here: because all the divine administration of affairs hath no complete deter- mination or final issue here; that being reserved to the great day of reckoning and judgment. It is further also expedient that many occurrences should be puzzling to us, to quash our presump- tion, to exercise our faith, to quicken our industry, to engage us upon adoring that wisdom which we cannot comprehend. Upon such accounts, for such causes, (which time will not give me leave to explain and exemplify,) the special providence of God is often cloudy, is seldom so clear, that with- out great heed and consideration we can perceive it. But however to do so is plainly our duty; and therefore possible. For our reason was not given us to be idle upon so important occasions; or that we should be as brute spectators of what God doeth. He surely in
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 458
the governance of his noblest creature here discover- SERM. eth his being, and displayeth his attributes: we ee therefore carefully should observe it. He thereby }*}. Te (and no otherwise in a public way) doth continu- 1.
ally speak, and signify to us his mind: and fit it is,
that we his subjects should hear, should attend to
the least intimations of his pleasure. To him thence
glory should accrue, the which who but we can render? and that we may render it, we must know
the grounds of it. In fine, for the support of God’s kingdom, for upholding the reverence due to his administration of justice among us, it is requisite,
that by apparent dispensation of recompenses duty
should be encouraged, and disobedience checked:
very foolish therefore we must be, if we regard not
such dispensations.
So reason dictateth, and holy scripture more plainly declareth our obligation to consider and perceive God’s doings. To do so is recommended to us as a singular point of wisdom: Whoso is wise, Ps.cvii.43. and will observe these things, they shall understand the lovingkindness of the Lord. Let him that glori- Ser. ix. 24. eth glory in this, that he understandeth and knoweth me, that I am the Lord, which exercise lovingkind- ness, judgment, and righteousness in the earth. Who Hos. xiv.9. is wise? and he shall understand these things; pru- dent? and he shall know them. For the ways of the Lord are right, &. We are vehemently provoked thereto: Understand, ye brutish among the people; Ps. xciv. 8. and, ye fools, when will ye be wise? ‘They are re- proved for neglect and defailance, Who do not regard Le the work of the Lord, nor the operation of his hand. isi." 12. The not discerning Providence is reproached as a Ps. xcii. 6. piece of shameful folly; A brutish man knoweth aie
454 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
SERM. not, neither doth a fool understand: and of woful — pravity; O ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the
ee “sky; but how is it that ye cannot discern this time? Matt. xvi. To contemplate and study Providence is the prac- Ps xxvii. tice of good men. I will meditate on all thy works, ae saith the Psalmist, chiefly respecting works of this Ps. exi. 2. kind: and, The works of the Lord are great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein. Itis a
fit matter of devotion, warranted by the practice of
good men, to implore God’s manifestation of his
Ps. xciv. Justice and power this way. O Lord God, to whom vengeance belongeth, shew thyself; lift up thyself, thou Judge of the earth. It is God’s manner hereby
Ps.ix.16. to notify himself. Zhe Lord 1s known by the judg- ment that he executeth. He for this very purpose
Ps. cix.27. doth interpose his hand; That men may know it is ‘oe his hand, and that the Lord hath done it; That, as Ezek, vi. it is in Esay, they may see, and know, and consider, mm and understand together, that the hand of the Lord hath done this, and the Holy One of Israel hath created it. He manageth things so that men may
be brought to know, may be induced to acknow-
ledge his authority, and his equity in the manage-
oe oe ment thereof*; That they may know that he, whose Ixvii.2. name is Jehovah, is the Most High over all the Pet Comth: that they may say, Verily there is a reward Sor the righteous: verily there is a God that judgeth
the earth. In fine, the knowledge of God’s special providence is frequently represented as a mean of nourishing our faith and hope in him, as a ground
of thankfulness and praise to him, as an incentive
© God thereby doth support and encourage good men. He doth thereby convince and confound ill men.—Ps. ix. 19, 20. He thereby doth instruct all men.—TIsai. xxvi. 9.
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 455
of the best affections (of holy joy, and humble fear, SERM. ; XII,
and hearty love) toward him: wherefore we ought
to seek it, and we may attain it.
There are consequently some distinctive marks or characters, by which we may perceive God’s hand: and such may these be which follow, (drawn from the special nature, manner, adjuncts, and con- sequences of events:) upon which may be grounded rules declarative of special providence, such as com- monly will hold, although sometimes they may ad- mit exceptions, and should be warily applied.
t The wonderful strangeness of events, com- pared with the ordinary course of things, or the natural influence of causes; when effects are per- formed by no visible means, or by means dispro- portionate, unsuitable, repugnant to the effect. Sometimes great exploits are achieved, mighty forces are discomfited, huge structures are de- molished, designs backed with all advantages of wit and streneth are confounded, none knows how, by no considerable means that appear; nature rising up in arms against them; panic fear seizing on the abettors of them; dissensions and treacheries springing up among the actors; sudden deaths snatching away the principal instruments of them.
As, when The stars im their course fought against Tudg. v. Sisera: when the wind and skies became auxiliaries ~~” to Theodosius": when The Lord thundered with a 1 Sam. vii.
<giapy © . Io. great thunder upon the Philistines, and discomfited 28am.xxii. EAs 4 Aug. de Civ. Dei, v. 26. [Milites nobis qui aderant, retule- runt, extorta sibi esse de manibus queecunque jaculabantur, cum a Theodosii partibus in adversarios yehemens ventus iret, et non solum queecunque in eos jaciebantur concitatissime raperet, verum etiam ipsorum tela in eorum corpora retorqueret. sok Tom. vil. col. 140 £.]
456 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
SERM. them, and they were smitten before Israel: when
"The Lord made the host of Syrians to hear a novse
zssv" of chariots, of horses, of a great host;—whence they
2Chrou. rose and fled: when The children of Ammon and
“Moab stood up against the inhabitants of mount
Seir, utterly to slay and destroy them; and when
they had made an end of the inhabitants of Seir,
2Kings every one helped to destroy another: when The
~~ angel of the Lord went forth and smote in the camp
of the Assyrians 185,000 men; and when they arose
carly in the morning, behold they were all dead
corpses: when the mighty power of Antiochus was,
Dan. viii; gg it is said, to be Broken without hands: and
Dan. ii. 4s. When, as it is foretold, A stone cut out of the moun-
tain without hands should break in pieces the tron,
the brass, the clay, the silver, and the gold. Such
events do speak God to be their cause, by his in-
visible efficacy supplying the defect of apparent means.
So likewise, when by weak forces great feats
are accomplished, and impotency triumpheth over
Tsai xix. might®; when, as the Prophet saith, The captives
; of the mighty are taken away, and the prey of the
Josh. xxiii. terrible is delivered: when One man, as is promised,
Lew. xxvi. doth chase a thousand, and Two put ten thousand to
Deut. flight: when a stripling, furnished only with faith
1 Sam. © Vid. Artabani Orat. apud Herod. [vu 10. 5.] [‘Opas ra imep- XVii. 40.
éyovra (aa os kepavvot 6 Ocds, ode €& havrdfer 9a, Ta Sé opixpa
>97 , ea ‘ c > r BXs ‘ , ; ee 4 , ovdév py kviter; dpas Sé ws €s oixnpara Ta péyiora, aici Kal Sévdpea ‘ ~ > ’ ‘ ' , ‘ e ‘ \ € , ra To.atta awookymre ta Bekea; iter yap 6 Ocds ta vrepexovra
, A a ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ J 4 > , , mdvra KoNovev. oto 5) Kal orpatds Todds 7rd ddiyou SiapOeiperat kata rode. éxedv ot 6 Ocds POovncas PdBov euBadry, } Bpovriy, Se ? > , > , ~ > ‘ A , , e ‘ ” dv épbapnoay avakias éwutdy: ov yap ea poveew péya 6 Ocds addov i) €wvrdv. |
, “ ANN aiel ye Auds xpeloowy vdos, né rep avdpav. Hom. ll. xvr. 688.
ee ee
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 457
and a pebble, shall knock down a monstrous giant, SERM. 5; alate
armed with a helmet of brass and a coat of mail,
with a huge target, sword, and spear: when suc-
cesses arrive like those recorded in scripture under
the conduct of Joshua, Gideon, Jonathan, Asa, Judg. vii.
Jechosaphat; wherein very small forces by uncouth 1 sam. xiv. . . . 6.
means did subdue formidable powers: this doth argue 2 chron.
that God doth interpose; with whom, as it is said, 30" y5, 17.
it is all one To save by many, or by few, and those igre
that have no power; whose Power is perfected in 2Cor.xii.g.
Jot weakness; who Breaketh the arm of the wicked, and 22.578 Weakeneth the strength of the mighty, and Delivereth ¥**:."*'
Ce VI gi
the poor from him that is too strong for him. eed Also, when great policy and craft do effect no-
thing, but are blasted of themselves, or baffled by
simplicity: when cunningly-laid designs are soon
thwarted and overturned: when most perspicacious
and profound counsellors are so blinded, or so in-
fatuated’, as to mistake im plain cases, to oversee
things most obvious and palpable: when profane,
malice. subtle, treacherous politicians (such as 2 Sam. xv.
Abimelech, Achitophel, Haman, Sejanus, Stilico, *”
Borgia, with many like occurring in story®) are not
only supplanted in their wicked contrivances, but
dismally chastised for them: the occurrences do
more than insinuate divine wisdom to intervene,
countermining and confounding such devices. For
he it is, Who, as the scripture telleth us, maketh i xliv.
the diviners mad; turneth wise men backward, and *
nee their knowledge foolish; Disappointeth the Sok ae
Ps. XXXili, Maia pidn, papynv ce Oeot becav. To,
Hom. Od. xxu. 11. 8 Ruffinus, S. Paul, d’Ancre, de Luna, &c,
f
458 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
SERM. devices of the crafty", so that their hands cannot perform their enterprise; taketh the wise im their own craftiness, and turneth down the counsel of the froward headlong.
Whenever a just cause or honest design, with- out any support or succour of worldly means, (with- out authority, power, wit, learning, eloquence,) doth against all opposition of violence and art pre- vail; this signifieth him to yield a special counte- nance and aid thereto, who, to depress human pride, 1Cor.i.27, and advance his own glory, Hath chosen the foolish iti things of the world to confound the wise; and the
weak things of the world to confound the things that are mighty; and base things of the world, and things which are despised, and things that are not, to bring to nought things that are: (that are with us in most request and esteem.)
Again, when plots, with extreme caution and secrecy contrived in darkness are by improbable means, by unaccountable accidents, disclosed and
Fecles. x. brought to light; A bird of the air, as the Wise Hab.ii.1r. Man speaketh, telling the matter; The stones in the wall, as it is in the Prophet, crying out Treason. Esther vi. ‘The king cannot sleep; to divert him the chronicle , iS failed: for; Mordecai’s service is there pitched on; an inquiry is made concerning his recompense ; honour is decreed him; so doth Haman’s cruel device come out. Pity seizeth on a pitiless heart toward one among a huge number of innocents devoted to slaughter: that he may be saved, a letter must be sent: in that, words inserted sug- gesting the manner of execution; that carried to
1 Bovdjy modunrdcov é&eornoev.—-L XX.
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 459
the wise king, who presently smelleth it out: so SERM. this day’s plot was discovered. Such events, ——— = whence can they well proceed, but from the all-?*°*"* piercing and ever watchful care of him, Whose eyes, Job xxxiv. as Elihu said, are upon the ways of man, and he es seeth all his goings? There is no darkness nor shadow of death, where the workers of iniquity shall hide themselves: for Hell 1s naked before him, and cara destruction hath no covering. eae: ize Also, when ill men by their perverse wiliness daa do notably befool and ensnare themselves, laying trains to blow up their own designs, involving themselves in that ruin and mischief into which they studied to draw others ; as when Saul, expos- : *: ees ing David’s life to hazard, increaseth his honour ; when the Persian nobles, incensing the king against Daniel, do occasion his growth in favour, with Dan.vi.24. their own destruction; when Haman, by contriving to destroy God’s people, doth advance them, and Esther vii. rearing a gallows for Mordecai, doth prepare it for himself: when it happeneth according to those passages in the Psalms, The wicked are taken in Ps. x. 2; the devices that they imagined; in the net which they — 8; hid is their own foot taken: He made a pit and Nas pe digged it, and is fallen into the ditch which he made: '*" 6. His mischief shall return upon his own head, and Ps. vii. 16. his violent dealings shall come upon his own pate: these are pregnant evidences of God’s just and wise providence; for Zhe Lord is known by the Ps. ix. 16. judgment that he executeth; the wicked is snared in the work of his own hand. All such occurrences, containing in them some- what, if not downrightly miraculous, yet very admirable, in like manner deflecting from the
460 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
SERM. stream of human affairs, as miracles do surmount the course of nature, most reasonably may, most justly should, be ascribed to the special operation
— of him, Who only doeth wonderful things.
a .
2 Another character of special providence is, the seasonableness and suddenness of events. When that, which in itself is not ordinary, nor could well be expected, doth fall out happily, in the nick of an exigency, for the relief of innocence, the encouragement of goodness, the support of a_ good cause, the furtherance of any good purpose ; (so that there is occasion to acknowledge with the
Isai. Ixiv. Prophet, Thou didst terrible things, that we looked
“ not for;) this is a shrewd indication that God’s hand is then concerned; not only the event being notable, but the connection thereof with circum- stances of need being more admirable.
Thus, in time of distress and despondency, when a man is utterly forlorn, and destitute of all visible relief, when, as the Psalmist speaketh, Refuge fail-
Ps, ghee him, and no man careth for his soul: if then
evi 2. Evarpos BonGea, An opportune succour doth arrive;
16. he is then unreasonable and ingrateful, if he doth not avow a special providence, and thankfully
Ps. xlvi. 1; ascribe that event unto him who is Our refuge and
od 39; strength; a very present help in trouble; A strength
: ’ to the poor, a strength to the needy in his distress,
rin 0. A refuge from the storm, a shadow from the heat ;
45 mall. The hope of Israel, and the Saviour thereof in time
Fer. xiv. 8, of trouble. This is that, for which, in the 107th
Job xxxiii.
Bes Psalm, the divine goodness is so magnificently esr. celebrated; this is the burden of that pathetical rapture, wherein we, by repeated wishes and exhort-
ations, are instigated to bless God; his wonderfully
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 461
relieving the children of men in their need and SERM.
distress: this is that, which God himself in the pas Prophet representeth as a most satisfactory demon- stration of his providence. When the poor and 's. xh. needy seck water, and there is none, and their tongue fuileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them, I the God of Jacob will not forsake them: I will open rivers in high places, and fountains in the nudst of the valleys, &c. that they may see, and know, and consider, and understand together, that the hand of the Lord hath done this, and the Holy One of Israel hath created tt.
So also, when pestilent enterprises, managed by close fraud or by impetuous violence, are brought to a head and come near to the point of being executed; the sudden detection or seasonable obstruction of them do argue the ever vigilant eye and the all-powerful hand to be engaged: God ever doth see those deceitful workers of iniquity, laying their mischief in the dark; he is always present at their cabals and clandestine meetings, wherein they brood upon it. He often doth suffer it to grow on to a pitch of maturity, till it be thoroughly formed, till it be ready to be hatched, and break forth in its mischievous effects; then in a trice he snappeth and crusheth it to nothing. God beholdeth violent men setting out in their unjust attempts, he letteth them proceed on in a full career, until they reach the edge of their design; then instantly he check- eth, putteth in a spoke, he stoppeth, he tumbleth them down, or turneth them backward. Thus was Esther iii, Haman’s plot dashed, when he had procured a royal decree, when he had fixed a time, when he had issued forth letters to destroy God’s people.
SERM. XIII.
Exod. xiv.
2 Kings xix, 28,
2 Mac. ix, 4, 5.
Tsai. lix. 19.
462 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
Thus was Pharaoh overwhelmed, when he had just overtaken the children of Israel. Thus were the designs of Abimelech, of Absolom, of Adonijah, of Sanballat nipped. Thus when Sennacherib with an unmatchable host had encamped against Jeru- salem, and had to appearance swallowed it, God did put a hook into his nose, and turned him back into his own land. Thus when Antiochus was marching on furiously to accomplish his threat of turning Jerusalem into a charnel, a noisome disease did intercept his progress. ‘Thus when the profane Caligula did mean to discharge his bloody rage on. the Jews, for refusing to worship him, a domestic sword did presently give vent to his revengeful breath’. Thus also, when Julian had by his policy and authority projected to overthrow our religion, his plot soon was quashed, and his life snapped away by an unknown hand®. Thus, Whenever the enemy doth come in like a flood, (threatening imme- diately to overflow and overturn all things,) the Spirit of the Lord doth lift up a standard against him; that is, God’s secret efficacy doth suddenly restrain and repress his outrage. This usually is the method of divine Providence. God could pre- vent the beginnings of wicked designs; he could supplant them in their first onsets'; he could any where sufflamimate and subvert them: but he rather winketh for a time, and suffereth the designers to go on, till they are mounted to the
1 Joseph. Antiq. Jud. Lib. xvi. [eap. 8. Opp. Tom. 1. p. 905.] * Chrys. in Babyl. Orat. u. [Opp. Tom. vy. p. 471.] Greg. Naz. Orat. v. [Opp. Tom. 1. p. 162 p.]
J Bl be pi ek mpootpiov, pnde edOéws, €bos ad’t@ rovodroy, &e.—
. Chrys. ad Olymp. [Ep. i. Opp. Tom. vm. p. 52.]
On the Guupowder-T'reason. 463
top of confidence™, and good people are cast on the SERM.
brink of ruin; ea Aro unxavis, Surprisingly, unex- pectedly he senibeeler in with effectual succour"; so declaring how vain the presumption is of impious undertakers; how needful and sure his protection is over innocent people; how much reason the one hath to dread him, and the other to confide in him. Then is God seen, then his care and power will be acknowledged, when he snatcheth us from the jaws
of danger, when Our soul doth escape as a bird ae =
out of the snare of the fowler.
3 Another character of special Providence is, the great utility and beneficialness of occurrences, especially in regard to the public state of things, and to great personages, in whose welfare the pub- lic is much concerned. To entitle every petty chance that arriveth to special providence may signify lightness; to father on God the mischiefs issuing from our sin and folly may savour of pro- faneness: but to ascribe every grand and beneficial event unto his good hand hath ever been reputed wisdom and justice’. It hath been, saith Balbus in Cicero, a common opinion among the ancients, that whatever did bring great benefit to mankind was never done without divine goodness toward men’. And well might they deem it so, seeing to do so is most agreeable to his nature, and appertaining to
™ “Orav xopypaby, drav avénOy, &e.—Id. Ibid. = Nec Deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus Inciderit.—[Hor. Ars Poet. 191. ]
° Magna dii curant, parva negligunt.—Cic. de Nat. Deor. [11. 66, 167. ]
P Quicquid enim magnam utilitatem generi adferret humano, id non sine divina bonitate erga homines fieri arbitrabantur.— Ibid. [ii. 23. 60.]
464 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
SERM. his charge, and may appear to be so by good argu- mentation a@ priori. For, that God doth govern our affairs may be deduced from his essential attri- butes; and, consequently, that he doth in especial manner order these things, which arethe most proper and worthy objects of his governance. God indeed doth not disregard any thing; he watcheth over the least things by his general and ordinary provi- dence; so that nothing in nature may deviate from its course, or transgress the bounds prescribed to ae it. He thereby elotheth the grass of the field; He Pe civ.14; provideth for the raven his food, and The young lions Deca, seek their meat from him: without his care A spar- Ae 39. Tow doth not fall to the ground; by it, All the hairs Mat-= of our head are numbered. But his more special hand of providence is chiefly employed in managing
affairs of great moment and benefit to mankind;
and peculiarly those which concern his people, who
do profess to worship and serve him; whose wel-
fare he tendereth with more than ordinary care and es. affection. He therefore hath a main stroke in all ~~" vevolutions and changes of state: he presideth in Ps. xlvi.9. all great counsels and undertakings; in the waging Prov. xxi. of war, in the settlement of peace; in the dispensa- = Chron. tion of victory and good success. He is peculiarly in- m=" terested in the protection of princes, the chief Wisd. vi. Ministers of his kingdom; and in preservation of tal his people, the choice object of his care, from vio- lent invasions and treacherous surprises; so as to prevent disasters incident, or to deliver from them.
Ps. exliv. It 7s he that, as the Psalmist saith, doth give salva- Ps.exxi.4. tion unto kings; who delivereth David his servant re from the hurtful sword. It is He that continually xxl. 1 Looneth Israel without ever sleeping or slumbering;
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 465
who is The hope of Israel, and the Saviour thereof; SERM. Who is in the midst of her, that she shall not be —_—— moved; who hath declared, that He will help her, resi ~ and that right early; that He will not cast off ie ze xciv. people, nor forsake his inheritance; that No weapon 1 I liv. formed against his church shall prosper; that Sal- Poss vation belongeth to the Lord, and his blessing is
upon his people. When therefore any remarkable
event, highly conducing to the public good of church and state, (supporting them in a good con-
dition, or rescuing them from imminent danger,)
doth appear, it is most reasonable and most just, to
ascribe the accomplishment thereof to God’s hand.
When any pernicious enterprise, levelled against
the safety of prince and people, is disappointed, it
is fit we should profess and say, The righteous Lord Ps. Pe OT) hath hewn the snares of the ungodly in preces.
4 Another like mark of special providence is,
the righteousness of the case, or the advantage springing from events unto the maintenance of
right, the vindication of innocence, the defence of
truth, the encouragement of piety and virtue. God naturally is the judge of might, the guardian of innocence, the patron of truth, and promoter of goodness. The Lord is a refuge to the oppressed: Ps. ix. 2 He is a father of the fatherless, and a judge of ee widow: He will maintain the cause of the afflicted, oe and the right of the poor: He eaecuteth righteous- Ps. cxi.12. ness and judgment for all that are oppressed: He Lee blesseth the righteous, and compasseth him with fa-"”
vour as with a shield: He preserveth the souls of the Ps.v. 12; righteous, and delivereth them out of the hand of the ea ungodly: All his paths are mercy and truth, unto oes “ite such as keep his covenant and his testimonies,
Bo VOL, TE 30
466 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
SERM. Whenever therefore right is oppressed, or perilous- XIII. ;
ly invaded; when innocence is grossly abused, or
sorely beset; when piety is fiercely opposed, or
cunningly undermined; when good men for the
profession of truth, or the practice of virtue, are
persecuted, or grievously threatened with mischief;
then may we presume that God is not unconcerned,
nor will prove backward to reach forth his succour.
And when accordingly we find, that signal aid or
deliverance do then arrive; it is most reasonable to
suppose, that God particularly hath engaged him-
self, and exerted his power in their behalf. For,
seeing it is his proper and peculiar work, seeing it
most becometh and behoveth him to appear in such
cases, affording his helpful countenance; when he
doeth it, we should be ready to acknowledge it.
Isai. Ixvii In such a case, The hand of the Lord shall be
= known toward his servants, and his indignation to- ward his enemies, saith the Prophet.
5 Another character is, the correspondence of
events to the prayers and desires of good men.
Ps. Ixix. For seeing it is the duty and constant practice of
2: exl. 6; good men in all exigences to implore God’s help;
sek seeing such prayers have, as St James telleth us, a
Lae 9; mighty energy, it being God’s property, by them
«xxiv. 155 to be moved to impart his powerful assistance;
xc). 15’;
exlv. 18. seeino God most plainly and frequently hath de- clared, and obliged himself by promise, that he will hear them, so as to perform whatever is expe- 2 Chron, dient in their behalf; seeing we have many notable “213 experiments recorded in scripture (as those of Asa,
xx. 6; we 2 Jehosaphat, Hezekiah, Elias, Daniel, and the like) are i Be of prayers bringing down wonderful effects from 1g B : ° . . xix.1s. heaven, with which the testimonies of all times
ES oe ee SC le eC St—
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 467
and the daily experience of good men do conspire; =
seeing the presumption of such efficacy is the main
ground and encouragement of devotion: we have
great reason, whenever events are answerable to such
prayers, to ascribe the performance of them to God’s
hand: great reason we have in such cases to cry
out with David, Now know I that the Lord saveth Ps. xx. 6.
his anointed; he will hear him from his holy heaven,
with the saving strength of lis right hand: just
cause have we, according to his pattern, thankfully
to acknowledge God’s favour in answering our pe-
titions; The king, said he, shall joy in thy. strength, Ps. xx. ',
O iheowes and in thy salvation how greatly shall he
rejoice! For thou hast given him his heart's desire, gene:
and hast not withholden the requests of his lips. ee 6 Again, the proceedings of God (especially in
way of judgment, or of dispensing rewards and
punishments) discover their original by their kind
and countenance, which usually do bear a near
resemblance, or some significant correspondence,
to the actions upon which they are grounded.
Punishments, saith a father, are the forced offsprings
of willing faults’: and answerably, rewards are the
children of good deeds: and God, who formeth
both, doth commonly order it so, that the children
in their complexion and features shall resemble
their parents. So that the deserts of men shall
4 IIdoat pupiddes avdpav kat dadayyes, doa ixerevovres pdvoy npeis, kat Ocds Bovdnbels Katetpyacaro ;—Greg. Naz. [Or. vy. Opp. Tom. 1. p- 168 a.]
How many myriads and squadrons of men were there, whom we only praying, and God willing, discomfited? saith Nazianzene in reference to the defeating of Julian’s design.
* Tév yap éxovgiwy Kakov Ta akovota eioly €xyova,—Joan. Damas.
[De fide Orthod. Lib. rv. cap. 19. Opp. Tom. 1. p. 289 E.] 30—2
SERM.
=
PS. xii; 3:
Rey. xvi.6.
2 Mace. ix. 28.
Luke xiv. 12. Rom, xii. 19.
468 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
often be legible in the recompenses conferred or
inflicted on them’: not according to the natural
result of their practice, but with a comely reference thereto; apt to raise in them a sense of God’s hand, and to wring from them an acknowledgment of his equity in so dealing with them. So when humble modesty is advanced to honour, and -am- bitious confidence is thrown into disgrace; when liberality is blessed with increase, and avarice is cursed with decay of estate; when craft incurreth disappointment, and simplicity findeth good suc- cess; when haughty might is shattered, and help- less innocency is preserved; when the calumnious tongue is blistered, the flattering lips are cut off, the blasphemous throat is torn out; when bloody oppressors have blood given them to drink, and come to welter in their own gore; (an accident which almost continually doth happen;) when treacherous men by their own confidants, or by themselves, are betrayed ; when retaliations of ven- geance are ministered, extorting confessions like to
. that of Adoni-bezek, As I have done, so God hath
requited me; deserving such exprobrations as that of Samuel to Agag, As thy sword hath made women childless, so shall thy mother be childless among women; grounding such reflections as that concern- ing Antiochus, Thus the murderer and blasphemer having suffered most grievously, as he entreated other men, so died he a miserable death; by such occurrences the finger of God doth point out and indicate itself; they speak themselves immediately to come from that just God, who doth “Avrazodds-
® Kal yap ards tis Kokdoews 6 Tpdmos Tis duaptias Toy Tpdroy
pipeirar.—Chrys. ‘Avdp. 6’. [Opp. Tom. vi. p. 591.]
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 469
vat, render to men answerably to their domes; who — payeth men their due, sometimes in value, often a ——— specie, according to the strictest way of reckoning. He, as the Prophet saith, is great im counsel, and Je. nughty in work: for lis eyes are open to all the Ps. sii. 122 : ways of the sons of men, to give every one according to his ways, and according to the fruits of his doings. This indeed is a sort of administration most con- . : ° formable to God’s exact justice, and most conduci- ble to his holy designs of instructing and correcting ) offenders. He therefore hath declared it to be his way. It is (saith the Prophet, directing his speech Jer.1. 15; to the instruments of divine vengeance upon Baby- a lon) the vengeance of the Lord: take vengeance wpon her; as she hath done, do unto her. And, The daa py Ciel: of the Lord (saith another prophet, concerning tie 2s like judgment upon Edom) 7s near upon all the heathen: as thou hast done, it shall be done unto thee; thy reward shall return upon thine own head. Thereby doth God mean to declare himself the Judge and Governor of men: For, J will, saith he i vii. | in Ezekiel, do unto them after their way, and ac- Job xxxiv. cording to their deserts will I judge them; and they ™ shall know that I am the Lord. Further, 7 Another argument of special providence is, the harmonious conspiracy of various accidents to one end or effect. If that one thing should hit advantageously to the production of some consider- able event, it may with some plausibility be attri- buted to fortune, or common providence: yet that
'*a Kara TGv TOD Ocod paptipay mparos ededpe Kodaotnpia, TAO’ tropetvavra Sixavoraty Wpo.—Euseb. de Vit. Const. 1. [59. Tom. 1. p- 531.] (de Maximino.)
Is oculos qui erucrat Christianis, ipse visu orbatus.
SERM. XIII.
470 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
divers things, having no dependence or coherence one with the other, in divers places, through several times, should all join their forces to com- pass it, cannot well otherwise than be ascribed to God’s special care wisely directing, to his own hand powerfully wielding, those concurrent instru- ments to one good purpose. Tor it is beside the nature, it is beyond the reach of fortune, to range various causes in such order. Blind fortune can- not apprehend or catch the seasons and junctures of things, which arise from the motions of causes in their nature indifferent and arbitrary: to it therefore no such event can reasonably be imputed. So to the bringing about our Lord’s passion, (that great event, which is so particularly assigned to God’s hand,) we may observe the monstrous trea- chery of Judas, the strange malignity of the Jew- ish rulers, the prodigious levity of the people, the wonderful easiness of Pilate, with other notable accidents, to have jumped in order thereto. So also, that a malicious traitor should conceive kind- ness toward any, that he should be mistaken in the object of his favour, that he should express his mind in a way subject to deliberate examination, in terms apt to breed suspicion where the plot was laid ; that the counsellors should despise it, and yet not smother it; that the king instantly, by a light darted into his mind, should descry it : these things so happily meeting, may argue God (who mouldeth the hearts, who guideth the hands, who enlighteneth the minds of men) to have been engaged in the detection of this day’s black con- spiracy.
Such are some characters of special providence ;
On the Gunpowder- Treason. 471
each of which, singly appearing in any occurrence, gt
would, in a considerate man, breed an opinion
thereof ; each of them being very congruous to the
supposition of it ; no such appearances being other-
wise so clearly and cleverly explicable, as by assign-
ing the divine hand for their principal cause. But
the connection of them all in one event (when
divers odd accidents do befall at a seasonable time’,
according to exigency for the public benefit, the
preservation of princes, the security of God’s
people, the protection of right, the maimtenance of
truth and piety, according to the wishes and
prayers of good men, with proper retribution and
vengeance upon the wretched designers of mischief;
such a complication, I say, of these marks in one
event) may thoroughly suffice to raise a firm per-
suasion, to force a confident acknowledgment
concerning God’s providence, in any considerate
and ingenuous person : it readily will dispose such
persons upon any such occasion to say, This is the Ps. exviii.
Lord's doing, and it 1s marvellous in our eyes. oe Notwithstanding therefore any obscurity or
intricacy that sometime may appear in the course
of Providence, notwithstanding any general excep-
tions that may by perverse incredulity be alleged
against the conduct of things*; there are good
marks observable, whereby (if we are not very
blockish, drowsy, supine, lazy, or froward ; if we
will consider wisely, with industrious attention and
care, with minds pure from vain prejudices, and
" Vid. Diod. Sic. Lib. xv. p. 482. [Ed. Steph. 1559.] * Ei pt) onpeta kai Oavpata, dd’ eorxéra onpeios mpaypara, decy- para tis mods ToD Oeod mpovolas Kal avTiAryyews aparov.—Chrys.
ad Olymp. Ep. 1. [Opp. Tom. vu. p. 55.]
472 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
SERM. corrupt affections) we may discern and understand ‘_ God’s doing. Which to do is the first duty speci- fied in my text: upon which having insisted so largely, I shall (hoping you will favour me with a
little patience) briefly touch the rest. II. Itis the duty of us all, upon such remark- Jobxxxvii. able occurrences of providence, Zo fear God: All 1 ee men, it is said, shall fear. It is our duty in such Ixviii. 3s, cases to be affected with all sorts of fear; with a Dan.vi-26. foor of awful dread, with a fear of hearty reverence, with a fear of sober caution ; yea, sometimes with a fear of dejecting consternation. When God doth Isi.lix. appear clad with his robes of vengeance and zeal,
M77 Lo: : ° ; E
denouncing and discharging judgment ; when he representeth himself Fearful in praises, terrible in
i. his doings toward the children of men, working ter-
ao rible things in righteousness ; it should strike into Ixv. 5- our hearts a dread of his glorious majesty, of his Deut. mighty power, of his severe justice, of Hzs glorious igs * and fearful name: it should instil into our minds
a reverence of his excellent wisdom, his exceeding goodness, his perfect holiness: it should breed in our souls a solicitous care of displeasing and pro- Isailxvi.2. yoking him: it should cause us in our hearts to shake and tremble before him. Then is that of pea The Psalmist to be put in practice, Let all the earth fear the Lord: let all the inhabitants of the world Ps.cxiv.7. stand in awe of him. Tremble, thou earth, at the presence of the Lord, at the presence of the God of Jacob. Such dispensations are in their nature declarative of those divine attributes which do require such affections: they are set before our eyes to cast us into a very serious and solemn frame ; to abash and deter us from offending, by
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 473
observing the danger of incurring punishments like pee to those, which we behold inflicted upon presump- — tuous transgressors ; upon those who do heinously
violate right, or furiously impugn truth, or pro-
fanely despise piety; who earnestly prosecute wicked enterprises; who persecute the friends of
God with outrageous violence, or treacherous sub-
tlety. Upon infliction of such punishments, A/J Deut. xvii the people shall hear, and fear, and do no more ee presumptuously, saith God himself, declaring the nature and drift of them. They do plainly demon-
strate, that there is no presuming to escape being detected in our close machinations by God’s all-
seeing eye; being defeated in our bold attempts
by God’s almighty hand ; being sorely chastised
for our iniquity by God’s impartial judgment. Extremely blind and stupid therefore must we be,
or monstrously sturdy and profane, if such expe- riments of divine power and justice do not awe us,
and fright us from sin. When the lion roareth, Hos.xi.ro. who will not fear? When the trumpet is blown in nike the city, shall not the people be afraid ? Shall he,
At whom the mountains quake, and the hills melt ; Nah. i. 5. Whose indignation the nations are not able to abide; Jer. x. 10. At whose wrath the earth doth shake and tremble ; Uae eo. At whose reproof the pillars of heaven are asto- ae nished; shall he visibly frown, shall his wrath {{?*** flame out, shall he shake his rod of exemplary ven- Teta
geance over us, and we stand void of sense or lic 9. fear? If so, then surely a brutish dotage, or av. gigantic stoutness doth possess us.
III. Weare in such cases obliged Yo declare God’s work: that is, openly to acknowledge and
avow, to applaud and celebrate the special provi-
SERM. XIII.
474 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
dence of God, with his adorable perfections dis-
_____ played in such events ; to the glory of God’s name,
Ps. lvii. 8.
6,11;
in expression of our reverence and gratitude toward him, for the common edification of men; for which uses they greatly serve, to which purposes they are designed. We should not view such providen- tial occurrences, like dumb beasts, with a dull or careless silence, as if we did not mind them, or were not concerned in them: we should not sup- press or stifle the knowledge of them in our breasts, as if they were barely matters of private consider- ation and use; we should not let our observation and resentment of them be fruitless, so as to yield no honour to God, no benefit to man. But we should propagate and convey them into others : in so loud a tone, in so lively a strain we should vent them, as thereby to excite the notice, to inflame the affections of all men within the reach of our voice ; provoking them to conspire with us in acknowledgment of God’s power and wisdom, in acclamation to his justice and goodness. This is the due improvement of our Glory ; that peculiar excellency, wherein chiefly (except im our reason) we do surpass all creatures ; that, without which our reason itself is more than half unprofitable ; that, whereby we put our best member to its best use. For this we have the devout Psalmist’s pious resolutions, his exemplary performances, his zealous wishes, his earnest exhortations to guide and move
sus. J will speak of the glorious honour of thy ma-
Ixxvii. 12; jesty, and of thy wondrous works. Men shall speak
xX, 14.
of the might of thy terrible acts; and I will declare thy greatness. They shall speak of the glory of thy kingdom, and talk of thy power. So did he signify
2 S.
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 475
his resolution. J have not hid thy righteousness og within my heart; I have declared thy faithfulness ———- and thy salvation: I have not concealed thy loving-** cabs kindness and thy truth from the great congregation. So his conscience testified of his practice. O that Ps. evi. 8, men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and 31.” se Sor his wonderful works to the children of men: that they would offer the sacrifice of thanksgiving, and declare his works with gladness. So doth he pour forth his desire. O clap your hands, all ye people; shout unto God with the voice of triumph. Sing Pe 20" unto the Lord, bless his name: shew forth his salva- tion from day today. Declare his glory among the heathen, his wonders among all people. Come and °-?: see the works of God. Sing forth the honour of his svi. 5,23 name, make his praise glorious. O give thanks unto i. 165 the Lord; call upon his name; make known his deeds among the people. So doth he summon, so doth he urge us to this practice; and in his de- portment, we may see our duty.
IV. It is peculiarly the duty and practice of good men upon such occasions to feel and to ex- press religious joy. The righteous shall be glad in the Lord. Good men indeed then have great mat- ter, and much cause, on many accounts, to be glad.
It becometh them to rejoice, as having an uni- versal complacence in God’s proceedings, as grate- fully relishing all dispensations of Providence. They, as pious, are disposed to bless and praise God for all things incident, and cannot therefore but rejoice; joy bemg an inseparable companion of gratitude and praise. Hence, Light is sown for the Ps. xevii. righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart. *”
'S. CXVill.
Hence, The voice of salvation and rejoicing is in 1s.
SERM. XIII.
Ps. xxxiii. i
IPS.) x11. "5
Ps. cvii.
Ps, xcvii. WV TQb.¢.0 OFe
Ps, xlviii. II; xcvii. 8, 9.
Ps. xiii. 6.
476 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
the tabernacles of the righteous. Hence, Rejoice in the Lord, O ye righteous: for praise is comely for the upright; is an exhortation backed with a very good reason.
They cannot but find satisfaction in observing God’s providence notably discovered, to the confir- mation of their faith, and cherishing their hopes; together with the conviction of infidelity, and con- fusion of profaneness. Our heart, saith the Psalm- ist, shall rejoice in him, because we have trusted im hisholy name. I have trusted in thy mercy; my heart shall rejoice in thy salvation. The righteous shall see it, and rejoice; and all iniquity shall stop her mouth.
Tt is to them no small pleasure to behold God's holy perfections illustriously shining forth; and the glory of him (who is the principal object of their love, their reverence, their hope, and confidence) to be conspicuously advanced. Rejoice, saith the Psalmist, O ye righteous, and gwe thanks at the remembrance of his holiness. Zion heard, and was glad, and the daughters of Judah rejoiced, because of thy judgments, O Lord. For thou, Lord, art high above all the earth.
It is to them ground of exceeding comfort to receive so clear pledges of God’s love and favour, his truth and fidelity, his bounty and munificence toward them, expressed in such watchful care over them, such protection in dangers, such aid in needs, such deliverance from mischiefs vouchsafed to them. Such benefits they cannot receive from God’s hand, without that cheerfulness which always doth adhere to gratitude’. J will, saith David,
¥ Cum accipiendum judicaverimus; hilares accipiamus, profi- tentes gaudium, &c.—Sen. de Benef. 1. 22. Vid. Ibid. 30.
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 477
sing unto the Lord, because he hath dealt bounti- SERM: Sully with me. Because thou hast been my helper, ———~ therefore in the shadow of thy wings I will rejoice. Peal My lips shall greatly rejoice in thee; and my soul Ps.1xxi.23. which thow hast redeemed. I will be glad and re- Ps.xxxi.7. joice in thy mercy: for thou hast considered my trouble, and hast known my soul in adversities. The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we Ps. cxxvi. are glad. Let all those that put their trust in thee Ps. v. 1. rejoice: let them ever shout for joy, because thou defendest them.
They are also greatly refreshed with apprehen- sion of the happy fruits sprouting from such dis- pensations of providence; such as are the benefit of mankind, the peace and prosperity of the civil state, the preservation, settlement, enlargement, advancement of God’s church, the support of right, the succour of imnocence, the maintenance of truth, the encouragement and furtherance of piety; the restraint of violence, the discountenance of error, the correction of vice and impiety. In these things they, as faithful servants of God, and real friends of goodness, as bearing hearty good-will and compassion to mankind, as true lovers of their country, as living and sensible members of the church, cannot but rejoice. Seeing by these things their own best interest, (which is no other than the advantage of goodness,) their chief honour, (which ee consists in the promotion of divine glory,) their 2. ~~ truest content, (which is placed in the prosperity of Sion,) are highly furthered; how can they look on them springing up, without great delight and complacence? QO, saith the Psalmist, sing unto the Ps. xeviii. Lord—for he hath done marvellous things. He” *
478 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
sERM. hath remembered his mercy and his truth toward
_AM _ the house of Israel: all the ends of the earth have
Tsai. xlix. seen the salvation of our God. And, Sing, O hea-
Ps. xevi. vens, crieth the Prophet, and be joyful, O earth,
"Sand break forth into singing, O ye mountains: for
the Lord hath comforted his people, and will have
7% lxvi. gnercy on his afflicted. And, When, saith he, ye
shall see this, (the comfort of God’s people,) your
heart shall rejoice, and your bones shall flourish
like an herb: and the hand of the Lord shall be
known toward his servants, and his indignation toward his enenves.
Even in the frustration of wicked designs, attended with severe execution of vengeance on the contrivers and abetters of them, they may have a pleasant satisfaction; they must then yield a
Ps. lviii. cheerful applause to divine justice. The righteous, Job xxii, Saith the Psalmist, shall rejoice when he seeth the Po xvii, vengeance: and, Let the wicked, saith he, perish at 2 3. the presence of God; but let the righteous be glad, let them rejoice before God, yea let them exceed- ingly rejoice. Whence, at God’s infliction of judg- Jer. li. 48. ment upon Babylon, it is said in Jeremy, Then the heaven and the earth, and all that is therein, shall sing for Babylon; and at the fall of mystical Baby- Rey. xviii. lon, in the Apocalypse it is likewise said, Rejoice as over her, thou heaven, and ye holy apostles and prophets; for God hath avenged you on her. Fur- ther,
V. The next duty prescribed to good men in such case is, Zo trust in God, that is, to have their affiance in God (upon all semblable occasions, in all urgencies of need) settled, improved, and corro- borated thereby. This indeed is the proper end,
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 479
immediately regarding us, of God’s special provi- — dence, disclosing itself in any miraculous, or in any remarkable way; to nourish in well-disposed minds = xxviii. that faith in God, which is the root of all piety, ” and ground of devotion. Such experiments are sound arguments to persuade good men, that God doth govern and order things for their best advantage; they are powerful incentives, driving them in all exigencies to seek God’s help; they are most convincing evidences, that God is abundantly able, very willing, and ever ready to succour them. They, saith the Psalmist, that know thy name will Ps. ix. 10. put their trust in thee: for thou, Lord, hast not for- saken them that seek thee. And, I, saith he, will e nee . abide in thy tabernacle for ever; I will trust in the 9, 0, ie.; covert of thy wings: for thou, O God, hast heard ~ my vows: thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy. It is, indeed, a great agoravation of diffidence in God, that, Having tasted and seen that the Lord 1s good; having felt eet so manifest experience of divine goodness; boven received so notable pledges of God’s favourable in- clination to help us; we yet will not rely upon him. As a friend, who by signal instances of kindness hath assured his good-will, hath great cause of offence, if he be suspected of unwillingness in a needful season to afford his relief: so may God most justly be displeased, when we, (notwithstand- ing so palpable demonstrations of his kindness,) by distrusting him, do in effect question the sincerity Ecclus. ii. of his friendship, or the constancy of his goodness toward us.
VI. Good men upon such occasions should glory: All the upright in heart shall glory. Should
480 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
SERM. glory, that is, in contemplation of such providences, —____ feeling sprightly elevations of mind and transports of affection, they should exhibit triumphant demon- strations of satisfaction and alacrity. It becometh
them not in such cases to be dumpish or demure;
but jocund and crank in their humour, brisk and
gay in their looks, pleasantly flippant and free in
their speech, jolly and debonair in their behaviour ;
every way signifying the extreme complacency
they take im God’s doing, and the full content they
Ps. exxvi. taste in their state. They with solemn exultation ’~" should triumph in such events, as in victories achieved by the glorious hand of God in their behalf, in approbation of their cause, in favour toward their persons, for their great benefit and comfort. They may (not as proudly assuming to themselves the glory due to God, but as gratefully sensible of their felicity springing from God’s favour) Se jactare, Se laudibus efferre, (as the Hebrew word doth signify ;) that is, in a sort boast,
and commend themselves as very happy in their relation to God, by virtue of his protection and
aid. They may (not with a haughty insolence, or wanton arrogance, but with a sober confidence and cheerfulness) insult upon baffled impiety’, by their expressions and demeanour upbraiding the folly,
the baseness, the impotency, and wretchedness thereof, in competition with the wisdom, in oppo- sition to the power of God, their friend and patron.
For such carriage in such cases we have the prac-
tice and the advice of the Psalmist to warrant and
* Ps. lii. 6,7. The righteous shall laugh at him, or, deride him, in this manner: Lo, this is the man that made not God his strength.
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 481
direct us. Jn God, saith he, we boast all the day gee long, and praise thy name for ever. Thou, Lord, - hast made me glad through thy work; and I wil triumph in the works of thy hands. We will rejoice Ps. xx. 5. im thy salvation; and im the name of our God we will set up our banners. Glory ye in his holy name: Ps.cv. 3,2. let the heart of them rejoice that seek the Lord. Sing unto him, sing psalms unto him ; talk ye of all his wondrous works. Save us, O Lord our God, Ps. evi. 47. and gather us from among the heathen, to give thanks unto thy name, and to triumph in thy praise. Such should be the result (upon us) of God’s mer- ciful dispensations toward his people.
I shall only further remark, that the word here used is by the Greek rendered ’Exawe@ycovta:, They shall be praised: which sense the original will bear, and the reason of the case may admit. For such dispensations ever do adorn integrity, and yield commendation to good men. They declare the wisdom of such persons, in adhering to God, in reposing upon God’s help, in embracing such courses which God doth approve and bless: they plainly tell how dear such persons are to God; Ps.exxvi. how incomparably happy in his favour, how im- a es pregnably safe under his protection; as having his ¢“*"""" infallible wisdom and his invincible power engaged on their side. This cannot but render them admi- rable, and their state glorious in the eyes of all men ; inducing them to profess with the Psalmist, Happy is the people, which is in such a case; yea, Ps. exliv. happy vs that people, whose God is the Lord. And ae sige of such a people, that declaration from the same mouth is verified, In thy name shall they rejoice all Ps. xxix. the day long, and in thy righteousness shall they be’
B.S. VOL. I. 3]
1 Ps: xliv. 8;
Xcll. 4.
SERM.
Ps. lvii. 6.
482 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
exalted: for thou art the glory of their strength, and in thy favour their horn shall be exalted.
Such are the duties suggested in our text, as suiting these occasions, when God in a special manner hath vouchsafed to protect his people, or to rescue them from imminent mischiefs, by vio- lent assault or by fraudulent contrivance levelled against them.
I should apply these particulars to the present case solemnized by us: but I shall rather recom- mend the application to your sagacity, than further infringe your patience, by spending thereon so many words as it would exact. You do well know the story, which by so many years repetition hath been impressed on your minds: and by reflecting thereon :
You will easily discern, how God, in the season- able discovery of this execrable plot, (the master- piece of wicked machinations ever conceived in human brain, or devised on this side hell, since the foundation of things,) in the happy deliverance of our nation and church from the desperate mischiefs intended toward them, in the remarkable protec- tion of right and truth, did signalize his provi- dence.
You will be affected with hearty reverence toward the gracious Author of our salvation, and with humble dread toward the just awarder of ven- geance upon those miscreant wretches, who digged this pit, and fell into it themselves.
You will be ready with pious acknowledgment and admiration of God’s mercy, his justice, his wisdom, to declare and magnify this notable work done by him among us.
On the Gunpowder-Treason. 483
You must needs feel devout resentments of joy pees for the glory arising to God, and the benefits accru- ing to us, in the preservation of God’s anointed, our just sovereign, with his royal posterity: in the freeing our country from civil broils, disorders, and confusions; from the yokes of usurpation and slay- ery; from grievous extortions and rapines; from bloody persecutions and trials, with the like spawn of disastrous and tragical consequences, by this design threatened upon it: in upholding our church (which was so happily settled, and had so long gloriously flourished) from utter rum: in securing our profession of God’s holy truth, the truly catholic faith of Christ, (refined from those drossy alloys, wherewith the rudeness and sloth of blind times, the fraud of ambition and covetous designers, the pravity of sensual and profane men had embased and corrupted it,) together with a pure worship of God, an edifying administration of God’s Word and Sacraments, a comely, wholesome, and moderate discipline, conformable to divine prescription and primitive example; in rescuing us from having impious errors, scandalous practices, and super- stitious rites, with merciless violence obtruded upon us: in continuing therefore to us the most desirable comforts and conveniences of our lives.
You further considering this signal testimony of divine goodness, will thereby be moved to hope and confide in God for his gracious preservation from the like pernicious attempts against the safety of our prince and welfare of our country, against our peace, our laws, our religion; especially from Romish zeal and bigotry, (that mint of woful fac- tions and combustions, of treasonable conspiracies,
31—2
SERM. XIII.
Ps. cxxiv. 973
Ixvili. 32.
Rev. xix. 1, 2.
Rev. xv. 3.
Ps. Ixxii. 18, 19.
484 On the Gunpowder-Treason.
of barbarous massacres, of horrid assassinations, of intestine rebellions, of foreign invasions, of savage tortures and butcheries, of holy leagues and pious frauds, through Christendom, and _ particularly among us,) which as it without reason damneth, so it would by any means destroy all that will not crouch thereto.
You will, in fine, with joyous festivity, glory and triumph in this illustrious demonstration of God’s favour toward us; so as heartily to jom in those due acclamations of blessing and praise:
Blessed be the Lord, who hath not given us as a prey to their teeth. Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers: the snare 1s broken, and we are escaped.
Alleluiah ; Salvation, and glory, and power unto the Lord our God: for true and righteous are his judgments.
Great and marvellous are thy works, O Lord God Almighty; just and true are thy ways, O thou King of saints.
Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, who only doeth wondrous things. And blessed be his glorious name for ever: and let the whole earth be filled with his glory. Amen, and Amen.
SERMON XIV.
A CONSECRATION SERMON’.
Psaum CXXXIT. 16.
I will also clothe her priests with salvation.
HE context runs thus: The Lord hath sworn in SERM-
truth unto David; he will not turn from it; Of the fruit of thy body will I set upon thy throne. IPf thy children will keep my covenant and my testi- mony that I shall teach them, their children shall also sit wpon thy throne for evermore. For the Lord hath chosen Zion; he hath desired it for his habitation. This is my rest for ever: here will I dwell; for I have desired it. I will abundantly bless her provision: I will satisfy her poor with bread. I wWitL ALSO CLOTHE HER PRIESTS WITH SALVATION: and her saints shall shout aloud for joy. There will I make the horn of David to bud, &c.
Tf all, not only inaugurations of persons, but dedications even of inanimate things to some extraordinary use, hath been usually attended with especial significations of joy and festival solemnity ; with great reason the consecration of a person to so high and sacred a function, as that of a Christ- ian bishop, (that is, of a prince, or principal pastor
* Henry the Seventh’s Chapel, July 4, 1663, at the Bishop of Man his consecration.
486 A Consecration Sermon.
SERM. in God’s church,) requires most peculiar testimo- ~ nies of our gratulation and content: the face of things ought then to be serene and cheerful: the thoughts or men benign and favourable: the words comfortable and auspicious, that are uttered upon such occasion. And that ours at present should be such, the subject, as well as the season, of our discourse doth require; words few, but pregnant, and affording ample matter for our best affections to work upon: and which more particularly will engage us, both to a hearty thankfulness for past pees and to a confident expectation of future blessings; while they acquaint us with the ancient exhibition of a gracious promise, remind us of the faithful performance thereof hitherto, and assure us of its ceriair accomplishment for the future. The occasion whereof was this: King David, moved by a devout inclination to promote God’s honour, and benefit the church, had vowed to build a magnifi- cent temple, imploring God’s propitious concur- rence with, and approbation of, his design. Where- upon Almighty God not only declares his accept- ance of that pious resolution, but rewards it with a bountiful promise, consisting of two parts; one conditional, relating to David’s children and pos- terity, that they, in an uninterrupted succession, should for ever enjoy the royal dignity, in case they did constantly persist in observing his cove- nant, and the testimonies that he should teach them; the other more absolute, that, however, what he chiefly intended concerning God’s estab- lished worship and the perpetual welfare of the church, God would have an especial care that it should fully and certainly be accomplished : that
A Consecration Sermon. 487
he would for ever fix his residence in Sion; that he SERM. would protect and prosper it, and all that did belong thereto; especially those that did most need his favour and assistance, the poor, the priests, and the saints, (or Gentle ones’.) This is briefly the importance of the general promise, wherein is com- prehended that particular one whereon we are to treat: and in which we may observe,
1 The Promiser, J.
2 The persons who are especially concerned in the promise, Her priests.
3 The thing promised, Clothing with salva- tion.
I. Isay, the Promiser, J: that is, the Lord; the most true, the most constant, the most power- ful God; most true and sincere in the declaration of his purpose, most constant and immutable in the prosecution, most powerful and uncontrollable in the perfect execution thereof: Whose words are Ps. xxxiii. right, and all whose works are done in truth: Who iexxix. 34. will not break his covenant, nor alter the thing that is gone out of his lips: Whose counsel shall stand, Isai. xivi. and who will do all his pleasure. These glorious *” attributes and perfections of his, so often cele- brated in holy writ, do ground our reliance upon all God’s promises, and do oblige us, notwithstand- ing the greatest improbabilities or difficulties ob- jected, to believe the infallible performance of this.
II. The persons whom the promise mainly regards, Her priests. Priests, that is, persons peculiarly devoted to, and employed in, sacred matters ; aril ca expressly from the Poor,
b DN
488 A Consecration Sermon.
SERM. (that is, other meek and humble persons;) and
< .
Contra 2 Chron. Vil. 21.
2 Chron. vii. 16.
from the Saints, (that is, all other good and reli- gious men.) And, Her priests; that is, the priests of Sion: of that Sion which The Lord hath chosen; which He hath desired for his permanent habita- tion ; which he hath resolved to Rest and reside in
Jor ever. Whence it plainly enough follows, that
the priests and pastors of the Christian church are hereby, if not solely, yet principally designed. Which interpretation, because it is in a manner the foundation of our subsequent discourse, and by some it may perhaps not be readily admitted, I shall endeavour further to confirm by these few arguments.
1 Because the covenant here mentioned is not, as to the main parts thereof, of a conditional or temporary nature, but absolute and perpetual; and must therefore be understood to respect the Christ- ian church: (that of the Jews being long since rejected, their temple demolished, their Sion dere- linquished.) For although one particular con- tained therein, concerning the continual succession of David’s posterity in the regal authority over Israel, hath a condition explicitly annexed; (and, consequently, the effects depending upon perform- ance of that condition were contingent and muta- ble;) yet all the rest of this covenant (or promise) is conceived in terms peremptory, and expressly importing perpetuity. Zhis is my rest for ever, sy-y, that is, as the Greek translators render it, Eis aiava aidvos, (In seculum seculi,) that is, to the end of this world; as Eis aiwvas tév aiwvev denotes the end of all worlds, or the most perfect sempi- ternity. And that it doth really in this case de-
A Consecration Sermon. 489
note a proper and unlimited perpetuity, is also —— evident by those explications thereof in the eighty- ———— ninth Psalm, where the very same covenant is, as to some parts thereof, more largely recorded. Once eb ne have I sworn by my holiness, that I will not lie unto” ~* David: his seed shall endure for ever, and his throne as the sun before me: it shall be established for ever as the moon, and as a faithful witness im heaven. No words can express more fully a per- petual duration, or at least one coextended with the duration of the world, than those do. And the prophet Jeremy, referring also to this very covenant, and particularly to this very clause thereof, thus expresses the matter: Thus saith the det, camty Lord; If you can break my covenant of the day, 2 Aas and my covenant of the night, and that there should ™ not be day and night in their season ; then may also my covenant be broken with David my servant, that he should not have a son to reign wpon his throne ; and with the Levites the priests, my ministers. But further,
2 The completion of this individual promise is both by the prophets foretold, and expressed by the evangelists, to appertain to the times of the gospel. Ye heard even now the words. of Jeremy, which are by him applied to those times, when God would cause the Branch of righteousness (that is, Jesus Jer. xxiii. of Nazareth, our blessed Saviour) to grow up unto * David, who should execute judgment and righteous- ness in the land. In those days, saith he further, Ver. 16. shall Judah be saved, and Jerusalem shall dwell safely: and this is the name wherewith she shall be called, (or rather, which he shall be called, as not only the vulgar Latin and the Greek interpreters,
490 A Consecration Sermon.
sERM. but the Chaldee also read it,) THE LORD OUR
XIV) RIGHTEOUSNESS. Likewise in the fifty-fifth Isai. Iv. 3. of Isaiah, God thus invites the Gentiles: Incline
your ear, and come unto me; hear, and your soul shall live: and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David: that is, I will ratify that everlasting covenant, which, in your behalf, I once made with David, and will confer on you those favours which I faithfully promised him ; relating to this very promise also. For both im Solomon’s prayer, which in all probability was indited about the same time, and upon the same occasion with this Psalm, and in the eighty-ninth Psalm, the benefits of the same covenant are called
2Chron. The mercies of David. O Lord God, turn not away
vi. 42.
the fuce of thine anointed, remember the mercies of
Ps. lxxxix. David thy servant, saith Solomon: and, My mercy,
28.
saith God, will I keep with him for evermore, and
Ver. 24. my covenant shall stand fast with him: and, My
faithfulness and my mercy shall be with him; that is, My faithful (or sure) mercy; Td éova ra mora,
Acts xiii. ag the LXX. and St Paul with them in the Acts,
34+
render this place of Isaiah. And in the song of Zachary, we have one passage of this promise cited
Lukei. 68, and applied to the times of the gospel: Blessed be
69, 70.
24
the Lord God of Israel, who hath visited and re- deemed his people; and hath raised up a horn of salvation in the house of his servant David; as he spake by the mouth of his holy prophets : viz. by the mouth of this prophetical Psalmist here, where it is said, There will I make the horn of David to
Ps. bocxix. bul ; and in the parallel Psalm, Jn my name shall
his horn be exalted. To omit those many places where our Saviour, in correspondence to this pro-
A Consecration Sermon. 491
mise, is affirmed to Possess the throne of his father =o
David, and to Rule over the house of Jacob for ever.
Moreover, a oe ae 3 That by the Sion here mentioned is not “°
chiefly meant that material mountain in Judea,
but rather that mystical Rock of divine grace and
evangelical truth, upon which the Christian church,
the only everlasting temple of God, is unmoveably
seated, is very probable, (or rather, manifestly cer-
tain,) by the Prophets’ constant acception thereof
in this sense, when they assign the character of
perpetual durability thereto. As in Isaiah, where
he thus prophesies of the Christian church: The Isi.1x. 14,
sons also of them that afflicted thee shall come bend-*”*”
ing unto thee, and all they that despised thee shall
bow themselves down at the soles of thy feet; and
they shall call thee, The city of the Lord, The Sion
of the Holy One of Israel. Whereas thou hast
been forsaken and hated, so that no man went
through thee ; I will make thee an eternal excellency,
a joy of many generations. Thou shalt also suck
the milk of the Gentiles, and shalt suck the breasts of
kings, &e. And the Prophet Micah, speaking of Mic. iv. r.
The last days, (that is, of the evangelical times,
when The mountain of the house of the Lord should
be established in the top of the mountains,) saith
thus: And I will make her that halted, a remnant ; Ver. 7.
and her that was cast far off, a strong nation: and
the Lord shall reign over them in mount Sion from
henceforth even for ever. And the Prophet Joel,
speaking of the same times, (when God would pour Joel ii. 28;
out his spirit upon all flesh,) hath these words: So iii. 17.
shall ye know, that IT am the Lord your God,
dwelling in Sion, my holy mountain: then shall
SERM.
Heb. xii. 22.
Heb. vi.17.
492 A Consecration Sermon.
Jerusalem be holy, and there shall no strangers pass through her any more. All which places no man can reasonably doubt, and all Christians do firmly consent to respect the Christian church. To which we may add that passage of the author to the Hebrews, But ye are come unto mount Sion, and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Je- rusalem ; that is, to the Christian church.
4 The manner of this covenant’s delivery, and confirmation by the Divine oath, argues the incon- ditionate, irreversible, and perpetual constitution thereof : for to God’s most absolute and immutable decrees this most august and solemn confirmation doth peculiarly agree. So the Apostle to the He- brews seems to intimate: Wherein, saith he, God, willing more abundantly to demonstrate the immu- tability of his counsel, (‘EmdetEat ro dueraOerov ris BovdAys avtov) interposed an oath.
We may therefore, I suppose, upon these grounds, solidly and safely conclude, that this pro- mise doth principally belong, and shall therefore infalhbly be made good, to the Christian priest- hood; to those who, in the Christian church, by offering spiritual sacrifices of praise and thanksgiv- ing, by directing and instructing the people in the knowledge of the evangelical law, by imploring for and pronouncing upon them the divine benedic- tions, do bear analogy with, and supply the room of, the Jewish priesthood.
From which discourse we may, by the way, deduce this corollary: That the title of priest, although it did (as most certainly it doth not) properly and primarily signify a Jewish sacrificer, (or slaughterer of beasts,) doth yet nowise deserve
A Consecration Sermon. 493
that reproach, which is by some, inconsiderately, SERM. XIV
(not to say profanely,) upon that mistaken ground, commonly cast upon it; since the holy scripture itself, we see, doth here, even in that sense (most obnoxious to exception) ascribe it to the Christian pastors. And so likewise doth the Prophet Isaiah ; And I will also take of them for priests and ems Tsai. Ixvi, Levites, saith the Lord: speaking (as the context is plamly declares) of the Gentiles, which should be converted and aggregated to God’s church. And the Prophet Jeremiah: Neither shall the priests the ee Levites want a man before me to offer burnt-offer-- , mgs, and to do sacrifice continually. Which pro- phecy also evidently concerns the same time and state of things, of which the prophet Malachi thus foretells : For, from the rising of the sun to the going Mal.i. 11. down of the same, my name shall be great among the Gentiles; and in every place imcense shall be offered to my name, and a pure offering. It were desirable, therefore, that men would better con- sider, before they entertain such groundless offences, or pass so uncharitable censures upon either words, or persons, or things. But I proceed to the
III. particular, which is the matter of the promise, Clothing with salvation. Where we may observe,
First : that the usual metaphor of being clothed doth in the sacred dialect denote a complete en- dowment with, a plentiful enjoyment of, or an entire application to, that thing, or quality, with which a person is said to be clothed. So is God himself said to be Clothed with majesty and strength, Ps. xciii.v. And David prays, that they might be Clothed with Ps. xxxv.
26; cix shame and dishonour, that did magnify themselves 29.
SERM. XIV
Ezek. xxvi. 16. Ps. cix. 18.
Job xxix. 4.
t Pet. v. 5. Isai. lxi.
10;
dix. 17.
494 A Consecration Sermon.
against him. And in Ezekiel, The princes of the isles, being amazed by the ruin of Tyre, are said to clothe themselves with trembling. And that bitter adversary of David did Clothe himself with cursing, as with a garment. And Job avouched of himself, Ir put on righteousness, and it clothed me ; my judg- ment was a robe and a diadem. And St Peter advises us to Put on, or to be clothed with, humility. Finally, Isaiah introduces our Saviour speaking thus: I will greatly rejoice im the Lord, my soul shall be joyful in my God: for he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation, he hath covered me with the robe of righteousness; as a bridegroom decketh himself with ornaments, and as a bride adorneth herself with her jewels. So that (as by these instances we may discern) to be clothed with salvation is to be perfectly endowed therewith; to be invested with it as with a garment, which wholly encloseth and covereth the body, so that no part is left unguarded and unadorned thereby. Secondly: But now what is that salvation with which the priests of Sion shall be thus clothed? I answer: Salvation, when it is put absolutely, and not conjoined with any particular object, (or term from which,) doth in the Hebrew language pro- perly signify a deliverance from, or remotion of, all sorts of inconvenience; and, consequently, an affluence of all good things; and, in effect, the same which other languages call felicity and pros- perity, or design by terms equivalent to those: the Hebrews having hardly any other word so properly correspondent to those, as this word, salvation. Whence that title of Saviour’, and the God of sal-
© Deus Swr)p sepe Platoni.
A Consecration Sermon. 495
vation, so often attributed to Almighty God, im- SERM.- ports as much as, the Dispenser of all good gifts ; the great Benefactor, Assister, and Protector of men: and to save is promiscuously used for, to relieve the needy, to comfort the sorrowful; to restore the sick to his health, the prisoner to his liberty, the captive to his country; to defend the weak from injury, and the humble from contempt; to deliver the distressed from imminent danger, the innocent from unjust condemnation, the slan- dered from undeserved reproach: in a word, all the effects of God’s goodness and power, the whole work of the Divine providence and beneficence, are hereby expressed.
We will recite one or two of those many places which confirm this notion, Surely his salvation is Ps. ixxxv. nigh them that fear him, that glory may dwell in® our land. His salvation is nigh; that is, his loy- ing care attends upon them, to assist and preserve them; which is thus otherwise expressed: He will Ps. exlv. Sulfil the desire of them that fear him; he will hear i their cry, and will save them. And again, The Ps.cxlix.4. Lord taketh pleasure in his people; he will beautify the meek with salvation: that is, he will, by his good providence, dispose them into a convenient and decent condition of life. And again, Jt zs he Ps.cxliv. that gweth salvation unto kings; that is, by whose r gracious disposal they prosper, and are preserved in dignity, plenty, and safety.
I will not, by citation of places, labour to con- firm so obvious a notion: it may suffice for that purpose, that the supreme accomplishment of all happiness, the enjoyment of perfect bliss in heaven, is, In agreement with this Jewish acception of
496 A Consecration Sermon.
*SERM. the word, most commonly styled salvation. But I
— must add, that, whereas salvation may relate either
to the outward estate of a man’s body, life, and
fortunes, or to the internal dispositions of the
mind ; to our present condition in this world, or
to our future and eternal estate : it doth seem here
(I say not, to exclude the latter altogether, yet)
more directly and principally to respect the former,
viz. that external and temporal welfare, which is
conspicuous and visible in this world. My reason
is, because the other parts of this prophetical pro-
mise do, in their most natural acception, signify
that outward prosperity, wherewith God would
vouchsafe to bless his church: that abundant
benediction of her store, that satisfymg her poor
with bread, that joyful exaltation of her saints,
that clothing her enemies with shame, being
expressions properly denoting a state of external
good weal and comfort; and, in consonance to
them, require that we thus lkewise understand
this phrase; the priests being also questionless
designed to partake in this glorious felicity of the
church. Which is also confirmed by other prophe-
cies of the same tenor and intention : as particu-
larly that in Jeremy concerning the recollection of
Israel, and redemption of the spiritual Sion ; it is
Jer. xxxi. sald, L will satiate the soul of the priests with fat-
= ness, and my people shall be satisfied with my goodness, saith the Lord.
Now, although we may adventure safely to interpret the declarations of the Divine favour according to the most comprehensive sense of which the words are capable, where they are con- ceived; (it bemg the manner of the immensely
A Consecration Sermon. 497
good God, to exceed, rather than to be deficient, — in the performance of his word; and to surpass the expectations he hath raised in us, than any- wise to disappoint them :) yet, however, the least we can imagine here promised to the priests of Sion will comprehend these three things :
1 A free and safe condition of life: that they be not exposed to continual dangers of ruin, of miserable sufferance, or remediless injury : that the benefits of peace, and law, and public protection shall particularly appertain to them ; so that their adversaries (if any they happen to have) shall not be incited, by hope of reward or impunity, to hurt their persons, rifle their goods, disturb their quiet ; but that they shall enjoy good degrees of security, liberty, and tranquillity in this world.
2 A provision of competent subsistence for them: that their condition of life be not wholly necessitous, or very penurious, destitute of conve- nient accommodations, or depending altogether for them upon the arbitrary benevolences of men, which is, at best, but a more plausible kind of beg- gary ; but that they shall be furnished with such reasonable supplies, as are requisite to encourage them in the cheerful performance of their duty.
3 A suitable degree of respect, and so high a station among men, as may commend them to general esteem, and vindicate them from contempt: that they be not reputed among the dregs and refuse of the people; that their persons be not base and despicable, their names made the objects of vulgar obloquy, their functions become prostitute to profane urision; but that some considerable authority, some more than ordinary regard and
B.S. VOL. I. 32
498 A Consecration Sermon.
SERM. veneration accrue unto them from the high rela-
tions which they bear, and from the sacred busi- ness which they manage.
All this at east (according to the most mode- rate interpretation of the phrase) that abundant salvation doth imply, wherewith God hath pro- mised to invest the priests of Sion.
We may therefore presume, or rather not pre- sume, but confidently rely upon, and comfort our- selves in the expectation of, God’s faithful continu- ance to fulfil this promise. We may assure our- selves, that neither the secret envy of them who repine at those encouragements which God’s pro- vidence hath conferred on priests, nor the open malice of those that furiously oppugn their welfare, shall ever prevail to overwhelm them with extreme misery, penury, or disgrace ; since no endeavour of earth or hell can ever be able to reverse this ever- lasting decree of Heaven, or to defeat that irre- sistible power which is engaged to its execution. No inferior force can denude them of that salva- tion, wherewith the Supreme Truth hath promised to clothe them.
Which confidence of ours may be improved, by considering the reasons that might induce Almighty God to resolve, and promise thus favourably in behalf of his priests. (For, though we cannot penetrate the incomprehensible depths of the divine counsel, nor should ever peremptorily conclude concerning the determinate reasons of his actions : yet, when the wisdom of his proceedings doth clearly approve itself to our understandings, we ought readily to acknowledge it, and humbly to praise him for it.) Now the reasons why divine
A Consecration Sermon. 499
Providence should undertake to preserve the priest- SERM. hood in safety, to procure for them liberal mainte- Tela nance, and to raise them above a state of scorn and infamy, may be especially these three :
t It concerns God’s honour.
2 The good of the church requires so.
3 Equity and the reason of the case exacts it.
In prosecuting which heads of discourse, I shall not seem to you, I hope, to transgress the rules of modesty or decency. There be certain seasons, wherein, confessedly, it is not only excusable, but expedient also, to commend one’s self; as when a man is falsely accused, or unjustly afflicted. And with greater reason sometime, men are allowed to praise the country where they were born and bred, the family to which they are allied, the society to which they are more especially related. And if, at this time, I assume the like liberty, the occasion, I hope, will apologize for me. It becomes not me to be an adviser, much less a reprover, in this audience: may I therefore, with your favourable permission, presume to be a commender, or, if you please, a pleader for the welfare of this sacred order, although myself an unworthy and inconsi- derable member thereof. I say therefore,
I. God’s honour is concerned in the safe, com- fortable, and honourable estate of his priests ; and that upon account of those manifold relations, whereby they stand allied, appropriated, and de- voted to himself.
They are in a peculiar manner his servants. The servant of the Lord, saith St Paul, must not 2 Tim. ii.
: 24. strive, but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach. The servant of the Lord; who’s that? are not all men
J2—2
500 A Consecration Sermon.
aE God’s servants? is not he Lord of all? Yes; but —a Christian priest, such as Timothy was, is by way of excellency so styled. All men owe subjection, obedience, and homage to God: but the priests Joel ii. 17. are (his “Yanpéra, his Aectovpyot) his ministers, So hie officers, his immediate attendants, his domes- wx" ties, as it were, and menial servants; that ap- proach his person, that tread the courts of his house, that wear his proper badges, that are em- ployed in his particular business. And is it then for God’s honour, to suffer them to be abused, to want convenient sustenance, to live in a mean and disgraceful condition? Would it not redound to the discredit of an earthly prince, to permit, that the attendants on his person, the officers of his court, the executors of his decrees, should have the least injury offered them, should fare scantly or coarsely, should appear in a sordid garb? Are they not therefore, by especial privileges, guarded from such inconveniences? And shall the great King and Lord of all the world be deemed less provident for, less indulgent (not to say less just) unto his servants? servants, I say, and those not of the lowest rank, nor appointed to the vilest drudgeries ; but such as are employed in the most honourable charges, and are intrusted with his
most especial concernments. Tit. i. 7. They are his stewards. A bishop, saith St Paul, must be blameless, as the steward of God. If the 1 Tim. ii. church be Oikos Oeov, God's house, or family, as it Cor. iv.r. is called, and the priests the Oirovéno, the stewards of that house, the comptrollers of that family; it is Matt.xxiv. surely no mean station they obtain therein. The 1Cor. iv.1. distribution of his bread, (the bread of life, his holy
A Consecration Sermon. 501
word,) and the dispensation of his most precious SERM. goods, (the holy mysteries,) are committed to their ———~ care and prudence. Who then, saith our Saviour, a xi.
is that faithful and wise steward, whom his Lord *
shall make ruler over his household, to give them
their portion of meat in due season? Who but the
priests, who are therefore styled both IIpocorares, 3 t Tim. v.
‘H-yovpevor, KuBeprycess, (Presidents, Guides, Rulers,) Heb. xiii.
and Toméves, (Feeders, or Pastors,) of the church. ; Cor. di.
Yea, they are Oixodduo: also, the builders of that # Eph. iv. house, founding it by initial conversion, rearing it ' by continued instruction, covering and finishing it by sacramental obsignation of divine grace. As @ 1 ©or- iii wise architect, saith St Paul, I have laid the foun- dation, and another builds wpon it.
They are Ocod cvvepyot, Cooperators with God ; 1 Cor. ii. that manage his business, and drive on his designs: ” the solicitors of his affairs, the masters of his re- quests: his Kypuxes, Heralds, that publish his decrees, eat denounce his judgments, proclaim his pardons and 1. acts of grace unto his subjects; that blazon his titles, and defend his rightful authority in the world: yea, his ministers of state; the ministers (I say, absit nvidia) of his most glorious spiritual kingdom ; (which is peculiarly denominated the kingdom of God;) the orderly administration of which, its advancement, its preservation, and its enlargement, are especially commended to their diligence and fidelity.
They are, lastly, God’s ambassadors, delegated Mal. ii. 7. by him to treat of peace, and solicit a fair corre- spondence between heaven and earth. Now then, 2 Cor. v. saith St Paul, we are ambassadors for Christ, as*~ though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in
SERM. RLY’,
John xiii. 20. Matt.x.40; XXV. 40.
502 A Consecration Sermon.
Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God. As though God did beseech you by us: see, they manage God’s concernments, and in a manner represent his per- son. At least, if the apostles were more properly God’s ambassadors, the present ministers of Re- ligion are his agents, and residents here among men, designed to pursue the same negociations commenced by them. Now you know by the Law of Nations, and common consent of all men, all manner of security, good entertainment, and civil respect hath been ever acknowledged due to am- bassadors, and public ministers: their employment hath been esteemed honourable, their persons held sacred and inviolable; and whatsoever discourtesy hath been shewed unto, or outrage committed upon them, hath been interpreted done to him from whom they derive their commission, whose person they represent. And so truly the bad usage of God’s priests, if not directly and immediately, does yet really and truly, according to moral esti- mation, terminate on God himself, and reflect on his honour, and prejudice his Religion; a due regard to which cannot be maintained, without propor- tionable respect to the ministers thereof. The basest of the people may serve to be priests to Jeroboam’s calves, but not become the ministry of the God of Israel.
Do we not see the reverence of civil govern- ment upheld more by the specious circumstances, than by the real necessity thereof; by the magni- ficent retinue, and splendid ornaments of princely dignity, than by the eminent benefits of peace and
justice springing thence? Shall not (not only the
greatest inward worth, but) the highest nobility, if
_ — Se
A Consecration Sermon. 503
basely attired, badly attended, slenderly accommo- SERM. dated, pass unregarded, yea disregarded by us? esi men being generally either unable to discern, or unwilling to acknowledge excellency divested of sensible lustre. Religion therefore must be well habited, or it will be ill respected: the priests must
wear a comely (if not a costly) livery, or God their master’s reputation will be impaired in popular fancy.
Consider David’s reasoning; Lo, I dwell an a ' Chron. house of cedars, but the ark of the covenant of the Lord remaineth under curtains ; and compare such discourse therewith as this; and judge candidly, whether they have not some parity: Lo, my attend- ants are clad with the finest purple, God’s ministers are covered with the coarsest sackcloth; my people surfeit with dainties, his servants pine away for scarcity; my courtiers are respectfully saluted, his priests scornfully derided ; no man dare offend mine, every one may trample on his officers.
And lest we should imagine God himself alto- gether void of such resentments, or such compari- sons impertinent, consider that disdainful expres- sion of his; If ye offer the blind for sacrifice, is tt Mal. i. 8. not evil? and if ye offer the lame and sick, is tt not evil? Offer tt now to thy governor; will he be pleased with thee, or accept thy person? south the Lord of hosts. The same testimonies of respect that we shew our governors, God, it seems, expects from us in all kinds, and may reasonably much greater.
Nor is it a matter of slight consideration, how plentiful provision, in the policy devised and consti- tuted by God himself, was made for the priests ;
SERM. SEV.
Deut. XVHE. I; 2.
Deut. xvii. 8-12.
504 A Consecration Sermon.
how God assumes the immediate patronage of
- them, and appropriates the matter of their suste-
nance unto himself. Zhe priests, saith the Law, the Levites, and all the tribe of Levi, shall have no part nor inheritance with Israel: they shall eat the offerings of the Lord made by fire, and his inherit- ance. Therefore shall they have no inheritance among their brethren: the Lord is their inheritance. So that then, it seems, no man could withhold any part of the priests’ maintenance, without sacrilegi- ous encroachment on God’s own right, and robbing him of his due: (which is the greatest security of an estate imaginable.) How likewise (next to the prince) the highest dignity and authority was then conferred on the priests: to them the interpretation of law, to them the decision of doubtful cases did appertain; with severe injunctions to comply with their determinations. See how the business is in- culcated. Jf there arise a matter too hard for thee, between blood and blood, between plea and plea, between stroke and stroke, being matters of controversy within thy gates; then shalt thou arise and get thee up into the place which the Lord thy God shall choose: and thou shalt come unto the priests the Levites, and unto the judge that shall be in those days, and inquire; and they shall shew thee the sentence of judgment. And thou shalt do according to the sentence which they of that place, which the Lord shall choose, shall shew thee; and thou shalt observe to do according to all that they inform thee. According to the sentence of the law which they shall teach thee, and according to the judgment which they shall tell thee, thou shalt do: thou shalt not decline from the sentence, which they
A Consecration Sermon. 505
shall shew thee, to the right hand, nor to the left. ee And the man that will do presumptuously, and will not hearken to the priest, that standeth to minister
there before the Lord thy God, even that man shall
die, and thou shalt put away evil from Israel. Observe with how eminent a power God then thought fit to endow his priests",
And though we are not in all cases obliged punc- tually to follow those political prescriptions; yet is the reason of them perpetual, and the example venerable: especially since the custom of all times, and the reason of all the world, doth in a sort con- spire to back it.
The first priest we meet with in scripture is Gen. xiv. Melchizedek; a king also; and such a one, as the’ Sie patriarch pebat, (a prince also himself, and, what is somewhat more, just then a conqueror,) in the midst of his triumphal heights, was not ashamed to acknowledge his superior, to honour him with a tribute of his spoils, and to receive a benediction from him. The next (if I mistake not) Gen. xi. is Potipherah, the priest of On, whose daughter * was not thought by the king of Egypt an unequal match for Joseph, his chief favourite, and the next in dignity to himself in that flourishing kingdom. (Though such an alliance would perhaps be thought derogatory to the worships of our days.) The third Exod. ii. is Revel, or Jethro, priest of Midian, the father- . in-law likewise of the illustrious Moses; a man as of approved wisdom, so doubtless of considerable
qd Kat yap enénrat mavtav, kai Sixactal trav dudicBynroupéver, Kat ko\agral Tov KaTeyvaopevey of iepeis éeraxOnoay, saith Josephus. (Con. Apion. Lib. 1. cap. 21. Opp. Tom. 1. p. 485.] The priests were constituted supervisors of all things, and judges of controversies, and punishers of offences.
506 A Consecration Sermon.
SERM. dignity too. And the next to him (in order of
XIV.
Deut. XXxXill. §.
story) is the venerable Aaron, no meaner a man, than the brother of him who was King in Jeshurun. Thus all nations, wise and ignorant, civil and bar- barous, were by one common instinct (as it were) of natural reason prompted, by conferring extraor- dinary privileges of honour and convenience on their priests, to express their reverence of the Deity, and their affection to religion’.
I will not ransack the closets of antiquity, nor with needless ostentation produce the Egyptian Hierophantee, the Persian Magi, the Gaulish Druids, the Caliphs, and Muftis of other nations, to shew what pre-eminences of respect they enjoyed, what powerful sway they bore in their respective coun- tries‘; how the most weighty affairs, both of peace and war, were commonly directed by their oracular dictates. It shall suffice to observe, that the gal- lant Romans, (whose devout zeal to religion Poly- bius® himself, no especial friend of theirs, could not forbear to admire and applaud,) I say, that the most wise and valiant Romans did set so high a value upon the priestly order, that if their principal magistrates (the Preetors and Consuls themselves) did casually meet with one of Vesta’s priests, they caused immediately those dreadful rods, the ensigns of their authority, to submit"; and they themselves
© Ovre yap yewpydy, ore Bavavooy iepéa xataoraréov’ tnd yap Tav wodtrav mperee Tysacba Tors Oecvs.—Aristot. Pol. vu. 9. [9.]
Porph. epi Awox. (de Abstin.) Lib. 1v. § 16. Cees. de Bell. Gal. Lib. v1. [eap. 13.]
8 [Lib. vr. 56, 7.)
Ildvra ta mpaypata “Pwopaios eis tov Ocdy avyyero.—Plut. in Marcello. [Opp. Tom. tv. p. 546. Ed. Steph.)
h M. A. Sen. Controy. [Lib. 1. p. 94. Ed. Var. Amstel. 1672.]
A Consecration Sermon. 507
respectfully gave place, as if they meant to confess SERM.
those priests in a manner their betters. Nor did sinh they among them of the most noble extraction, and of the highest dignity in the commonwealth, (even after many glorious exploits achieved by them,) scornfully disdain, but did rather ambitiously affect to be admitted into the college of priests: insomuch that, after the dissolution of the Republic, the Em- perors thought good to assume the Pontifical dig- nity to themselves, supposing the office too honour- able, the title too magnificent for a subject. For they wisely, it seems, and honestly adjudged it no debasement of their quality, no diminution to their personal excellency, to be employed in the service of the immortal gods; whom they acknowledged the patrons of their country, the protectors of their safety: nor that they less deserved of the public, who rightly ordered their religious devotions, than they who prudently advised in the senate, or fought valiantly in the field: for that the good success of public undertakings did as much, or more, depend upon the favourable disposition of divine Provi- dence, as upon the careful endeavour of human industry.
I cannot forbear to allege that so grave and pertinent speech of Cicero, which is the exordium of his oration ad Pontifices: Cum multa divinitus, pontifices, a mayoribus nostris inventa atque instituta sunt; tum mhil preclarius, quam quod vos eosdem et religionibus deorum immortalium, et summe rei- publice preesse voluerunt: ut amplissini et claris- simi cives rempublicam bene gerendo; pontifices religiones sapienter interpretando, rempublicam conservarent. A wholesome and politic institution
SERM. ELY.
508 A Consecration Sermon.
he thought it, conducible to the public good and safety, that the civil and sacred authority should be united in the same persons; that it was as well for the interest of the state, as for the credit of Religion, that the priests should be men of honour, or (which is all one) honourable men priests.
All which evinces plainly, that it is in no wise the result of a generous heart, (for what nation ever produced so many brave spirits as that?) but rather proceeds from an inconsiderate delicacy of humour, (or from a profane haughtiness of mind,) to loathe, as now men do, and despise that em- ployment, which in its own nature is of all most noble and most beneficial to mankind. For if to be a courtier in a particular country is’of all others the most honourable relation; and to wait upon a mortal king is accounted a most worthy function: to be peculiarly God’s servant, and in religious ad- dresses immediately to attend on him, must conse- quently be the most excellent preferment in the world, which is God’s kingdom’. And if to sup- ply a man’s bodily needs, to restore his liberty, to save his life, be works of generous beneficence; how much more is it so, by good conduct and in- struction of men, to adorn their souls with virtue, to free them from the bondage of sin, to rescue them from eternal ruin?
Our magnanimous ancestors, who erected as well trophies of their invincible courage abroad, as
' Ttane plus decet hominis, quam Dei famulum nominari? ac terreni, quam ccelestis Regis dici Officialem, altioris ducitur digni- tatis? Qui clero militiam, forum anteponit Ecclesiz ; divinis pro- fecto humana, ccelestibus preferre terrena conyincitur.—Bern, Epist. txxviu. [Opp. Tom. 1. col. 82 B.]
A Consecration Sermon. 509
monuments of their incomparable piety at home, SERM. : XIV. and equally by both did purchase immortal renown to their ingrateful posterity, (for not to imitate good example is the greatest ingratitude,) they, I say, were otherwise disposed; to whose honest devotion we owe those handsome privileges, and those competent revenues, which the priesthood . still enjoys; and which are so maligned by this untoward age, not less degenerate in spirit than corrupt in manners: when all wisdom, and virtue, and religion, are almost in most places grown ridi- culous: when the serious use of reason is become (in vulgar opinion) the most impertinent and insig- nificant thing in the world: when innocence is reputed a mere defect of wit and weakness of judg- ment; integrity, a fond pertinacity of humour; con- stancy of mind and gravity of demeanour, a kind of sullen morosity or uncouth affectation of singu- larity; and all strict practice of Christian duty in- curs the imputation of some new-found opprobrious name, one or other. No wonder then, when Re- ligion itself hath so much decayed in its love and esteem, if the priests, its professed guardians, do partake in its fortune. Nor is it to be feared, but that, when the predominant vanities of the age are somewhat decocted, and men grow weary of their own inconvenient follies; whenever (not a fierce zeal for some whimsical model, or some paradoxical opinion, but) a sober esteem of, and a cordial affec- tion to virtue and genuine piety do begin to revive in the breasts of men; the love and reverence of the clergy will return. For it will be ever true, what was once said, (though dictated only from the reason and experience of a heathen,) Qu bona
510 A Consecration Sermon.
SERM. fide Deos colit, amat et sacerdotes*; He that sin-
XIV. ; cerely worships God, will heartily love his priests. But not to insist longer on this reason.
II. The good of the church requires, that the priesthood be well protected, well provided for, and well regarded. That men be converted from iniquity, induced to the sincere practice of virtue, is the chief good of the church, that to which the favour of God is annexed, and upon which the sal- vation of souls doth rely. And this good mainly depends, partly upon the due execution of the priestly office, partly upon the fit disposition of the people to comply therewith: and to both those effects, the comfortable estate of the priesthood is conducible and requisite. The priest must be capa- ble to instruct with advantage, and the people dis- posed to learn with readiness: he must lead, and they follow cheerfully in the paths of righteousness. Which alacrity how can he be master of, whose mind, care, and grief, the inseparable companions of a needy estate, do continually distract and discom- pose? whose spirit is dejected with constant regret and frequent disappointments? Can he be free and expedite in the discharge of his duty, who is perplexed with the difficulties, and encumbered with the varieties of secular business, such as the exigences of a narrow condition do necessarily in- duce? No; few there be that, with Epictetus, can philosophate in slavery; or, like Cleanthes, can draw water all the day, and study most of the night.
The priests are bound, (for the propagation of truth and right, and for the reclaiming of men from error and sin, that is, for the most important
* Statius. Epist. Dedic. in v. Lib. Sylvarum.
A Consecration Sermon. 511
good of the church,) as the apostles are often SERM.
related to have done, HappyowaecOa, To speak all ——
out, (or to use an unconfined liberty of speech ;) to ee
exhort to the practice of virtue, as our Saviour Babes “5
did, Mer’ éfoustas, With license and authority; to {><
deter from vice, as St Paul enjoins Titus, Mera 32. | sh Lie tii Gs
naons emtayns, With an all-commanding and in-
perious strain; and, (as those faithful brethren did,
encouraged by St Paul’s example,) Torugv apoBws Phil. i. 14.
Aadew tov oyov, To dare undauntedly to utter the
word of truth: they are obliged to deal impartially
with all, to flatter no man: to admonish, yea, and
(with prudence, seasonably) to reprove the greatest
of men: not to respect the persons of the rich, nor
to dread the faces of the most terrible among men.
And how shall this necessary courage be engen-
dered, be cherished, be preserved, in the breast of
him who grovels upon the ground, and crouches
under the depressing loads of want and disgrace’?
What engines are able to raise the spirits of men
above the ordinary fountains from which they
spring, their fortunes? What props can sustain
them at that due pitch, destitute of solid strength,
wealth, and respect? With what face shall a pitiful
underling encounter the solemn looks of an op-
pressing grandee? With what hope of success, in
his forlorn habit, shall he adventure to check the
: Plurima sunt, que
Non audent homines pertusa dicere lena.
Juven. Sat. v. [131.] Aids Tot mpds avoABin, Odpros dé mpos dB.
Hes. [Op. et Di. 319.] IIpos dmavra Seddv eotw 6 wévns mpaypara, Kal mavtas avtov xatadpoveiv trodapBaver.
Menand. [‘AdcAdou. p. 7. Ed. Meineke. ]
512 A Consecration Sermon.
SERM. vicious extravagances of a ruffling gallant? Will
‘he dare to contradict the opinion, or to disallow
the practice, of that wealthy or this powerful neigh-
bour, by whose alms, it may be, he is relieved, and supported by his favour?
But admit it possible a man may be both ex- tremely indigent and sufficiently resolute: (that is, strong without food, and fat by digesting the thin air:) with what regard then, shall his free and faithful advice be entertained? Shall not his mo- derate confidence be accounted impudence; his open sincerity of speech be styled unmannerly pre- sumption; his minding others of their duty ad- judged a forgetfulness of his own condition, or a disorderly transgressing the due limits thereof: if he be not ashamed of the truth, will not the truth be ashamed of him? Shall he not prejudice more by the meanness of his garb, than further by the force of his reason, that good cause which he maintains? Will men respect his words, whose person they despise? Will they be willingly coun- selled or patiently reproved by him, whom they esteem, yea, whom they plainly see, so much their inferior? No: the same words, which proceed from the mouths of men in eminent dignity, are not the same when they are uttered by those of base de- gree™, Weak and ineffectual are the most eloquent harangues of beggarly orators; obscure, like them- selves, and unobserved, the most notable dictates of poor, mercenary pedants. The authority of the
* al e TS & d&l@pa, xiv Kaxads A€yns TO adv , , 4 ~~ > > ¢ | Ileicets Adyos yap &k 7 adogovvrav iav , ? “ / eh > 4 Ld Kak trav Soxotvrwy aitds ov ravrov abeve..
Eurip. Hee. [293.]
A Consecration Sermon. 513
speaker doth usually more incline, than the weight == of the matter. It was the observation of the wise ———— son of Sirach: When a rich man slips, he hath es Be. many helpers; he speaketh things not to be spoken, and yet men justify him: the poor man miscarried, and they further rebuked him; he spake discreetly, and yet could have no place. When a rich man speaketh, every man holdeth his tongue; and his words they extol to the clouds®: but if the poor man speak, they say, Who is this? and if he stumble, they will help to overthrow him. And Solomon himself notes the same: Zhe poor man’s wisdom is Heciee: 2 despised, and his words are not heard. Not only those that swell with pride and swim in plenty, but even the meanest of the people, will be apt to contemn his instructions, whom they perceive in few or no circumstances of life to excel them. If the preacher's condition be not, as well as his pul- pit, somewhat elevated above the lowest station, few will hear him, fewer mind his words, very few obey him. Job’s case deserves well to be con- sidered. While he flourished in wealth and repu- tation all men attended to his counsel, and admired his discourse. The princes, saith he, refrained J°> xxix. talking, and laid their hand on their mouth: the 21 22. nobles held their peace, and their tongue cleaved to the roof of their mouth. When the ear heard me, then it blessed me; and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me. Unto me men gave ear, and waited, and kept silence at my counsel. After my words they spake not again, and my speech dropped upon them. So officiously attentive were all men
: KadXtora Movody péeyyerar mAovtay avnp.
(Eurip. Frag. Incert. |
B.S. VOL. I. 33
514 A Consecration Sermon.
SERM. to Job in his prosperity. But when the scale was XIV. turned, and he became depressed in estate, no man minded either him or his discourse, except it were ey to despise and scorn both. But now, saith he, they that are younger than I have me in derision, whose fathers I would have disdained to have set with the dogs of my flock. I am their song, yea, I am their by-word. They abhor me, they fly far from me, and spare not to spit in my face; because he hath loosed my cord, and afflicted me°®. If Job, a per- = fae who so equally and moderately, yea, so hum- ix bly, and courteously, and bountifully used his prosperity, as we find he did, was notwithstanding in his adversity so generally slighted and abhorred ; what shall their lot be who never enjoyed those advantages? what regard shall their wholesome advice find? what efficacy their most pathetical ex- hortations obtain? what passion their faint breath raise in men’s benumbed hearts? No more, cer- tainly, than their mean condition shall procure among men either of friendship or esteem.
We see therefore, how Almighty God, that he might conciliate credit unto, and infuse a persua- sive energy into the words of his prophets and apostles, was pleased to dignify them with extraor- dinary gifts of foretelling future events and doing miraculous works: their doctrine, it seems, (though of itself most reasonable and plausible,) being not sufficient to convince the hearers, without some remarkable excellency in the teachers, challenging the people’s awful regard, and exciting their atten- tion. Otherwise how pitifully scant a draught those
° Prov. xiv. 20. The poor is hated even of his own neighbour : but the rich hath many friends.
A Consecration Sermon. 515
poor fishers of men had caught by the common SERM. allurements only of innocent life and rational dis- course, I leave you to imagine. And where such extraordinary commendations are wanting, is it not reasonable that the need of them should be supplied by ordinary and probable expedients?
I might further add, how a necessitous and despicable estate doth commonly not only disturb the minds and deject the spirits of men, but dis- tempereth also their souls, and vitiateth their manners; rendering them not only sad and anxi- ous, slavish and timorous, but greedy also and covetous, peevish and mutinous, rude and igno- rant; engages them in sordid company, and tempts them to unworthy courses. From which one cause how scandalous effects, and how prejudicial to the church’s both honour and safety, have proceeded, I need not for to say, since woful experience too loudly proclaims it.
I might add, moreover, that the priests do con- fer to the good of the state; which is secured and advanced by the sincere instruction of men in duties of obedience, justice, and fidelity; and by mainte- nance of good conscience among men. So that, if things be rightly considered, it will be hard to find a better commonwealth’s man, than a good min- ister.
Seeing therefore the good of the church, upon various accounts, 1s so much concerned in the priests’ encouragement, welfare, and respect, it is very fitting they should have them. Which con- sideration I conclude with that serious admonition of the Apostle to the Hebrews, wherein the sub- stance of what hath been spoken on this point is
d3d—2
SERM.
Heb, xiii. 17.
516 A Consecration Sermon.
contained: Obey your rulers (or guides,) and sub- nut to them: for they watch for your souls, as they that are to gwe an account; that they may do it with joy, and not with complaint, My orevaovtes : Sor this is unprofitable for you, ‘Advotredes yap vatv tovro: that is, Mor this pays no taxes, quits no scores, turns to no account, is nowise advantageous for you ; but rather (for there is a Meiwors in those words) is hurtful and detrimental to you. But further,
III. Common equity, and the reason of the case exacts, that safety, competent subsistence, and fitting respect be allowed to the priests. If you consider their personal qualities; who, I pray, do, commonly, better deserve those advantages than they? Those qualities, I say, which result from a liberal, a sober, a modest education in the schools of wisdom, and under the influences of good disci- pline. If birth (that is, at best, an imaginary relation to the gallantry of an ancestor) entitle men to honour; if the cheap favours of fortune be so highly prized and admired; if riches (that is, the happy results of industry in trivial matters) do easily purchase respect: what may not they pre- tend to, whose constant (and not always unsuccess- ful) endeavour it hath been to deserve well, to cultivate their minds, and regulate their manners?
True worth, indeed, is not confined to any par- ticular order of men; yet I should wrong none, by saying it is no where more plentifully to be found than in this’. What is it that doth advance men’s nature, that adorns their minds, that commends their persons to especial regard? Is it knowledge?
P Vide Orig. contra Cels. Lib. mr. p. 129.
A Consecration Sermon. 517
The priests lips preserve it; their discourse doth diffuse it. Is it virtue? Whence have more or greater examples thereof proceeded than from them? Is it piety? It is their proper business: it hath been always, in some measure, their care to promote it. That ignorance and barbarity, disso- luteness and irreligion, have not long since, like a deluge, overspread the face of the world, none, I suppose, will be so unjust as to deny, in greatest part, due to their vigilant endeavours. Even those improvements of wit and eloquence, which are employed to their disgrace and disadvantage, must be acknowledged originally derived from them.
Faults they have had, and will always have; for they are men, and subject to the common imper- fections of mortal nature: but that, perhaps, less and fewer than any other distinct sort of men; that as it is their duty, so it hath been their practice, to excel in virtue; and that they have commonly, in effect, made good St Ambrose’s words, Debet pre- ponderare vita sacerdotis, sicut preponderat gra- tia’, were not difficult to demonstrate, if seemly to make comparisons, or to insist upon so invidious a subject. Nor, were they greater than ever really they have been, or than ever malice could mis- represent them, should it be therefore equal, that the miscarriages of some should derogate from the reputation, or prejudice the welfare of the whole order.
But to wave this plea; consider their employ- ment. Is there any office more laborious, more vexatious than theirs; accompanied with more wearisome toil, more solicitous care, more tedious
4 [Epist. px. Opp. Tom. 1. col. 1037 p.]
SERM. XIV.
Mal. ii. 7.
518 A Consecration Sermon.
. attendance? They are deservedly called Watch-
men, being constrained to stand always on the
* guard, to be always wakeful, attentive, and ready
to warn the people of approaching dangers: and
. Shepherds likewise, being forced to endure the
various hardships of that uneasy life, the inconve- niences of all weathers, the nipping frosts and sweltry heats, and all diversities of irksome travail ; they must feed, they must guide, they must de- fend; they must seek the lost, and reduce the straying sheep. What assiduity of study, what earnest contention of soul are they obliged to use, in the continual instruction, exhortation, and repre- hension of the people; in rectifying their judg- ments, satisfying their scruples, removing their prejudices, bearing their infirmities, and sympa- thizing with their afflictions? It is they that are engaged, with all their might, to withstand the prevailing encroachments of iniquity, to stop the progress of pernicious errors, to detect the false pretences of impostors, to confute the fallacies of sophisters, to repel the assaults of all adversaries to the truth; yea, if need be, to expose, not only their dearest contents of life, but even their lives them- selves, in the defence thereof.
Eusebius reports thus of Maximinus: Tovs rév EKKANoLOV apyovTas Lovous, Ws aiTlous THs KATA TO evary- ryéAtov dvoackaXlas, avapeia Bat TpooTaT Tet. He com- manded that only the governors of the church (that is, the bishops) should be slaughtered, as the authors of the growth and prevalence of evangelical doc- trine’. Neither was it a singular practice of that bloody tyrant; but, as a thing of course, it con-
¥ (Hist. Eccl. vr. 28. Tom. 1. p. 293.]
A Consecration Sermon. 519
stantly follows, that wherever righteousness and oe truth are violently impugned, the priests are sure to taste deepest of that bitter cup; that their goods be, in the first place, sequestered and spoiled, their reputation stained, their persons misused, their lives sacrificed to the persecutor’s outrageous malice.
Is it not reasonable then, and equal, that they, who, for the service of God and benefit of the church, undergo such difficulties, and are objected to so great hazards, should be sustained, should be refreshed by proportionable encouragements? Is it not barbarous usage, to expect so hard duties from them, to impose such heavy burdens on them, and yet to grudge any suitable comforts, any satisfactory rewards to them ? Good king Hezekiah surely was not so minded, of whom it is said, He commanded 2 Chron. the people that dwelt in Jerusalem to give the por- gem tion of the priests and Levites, that they might be encouraged in the law of the Lord: that is, they might be heartened to study, to teach, to perform the duties required of them by the divine law.
And St Paul thus rationally expostulates in the priests behalf: Who ever goeth to war at his own + ie charges? who planteth a vineyard, and eateth not fom, xv. of the fruit thereof? or who feedeth a flock, and eat-*
eth not of the milk of the flock? If we have sown
unto you spiritual things, is it a great thing if we
shall reap your carnal things? Is it a great thing ?
Do you think much of it? If you do, you are un- reasonable, you are unjust, you are ingrateful.
And otherwhere, he thus very emphatically admo- nishes: We beseech you, brethren, to mind them 1 Thess. v. which labour among you, and preside over you'” **
SERM. XIV,
1 Tim. v. 17.
520 A Consecration Sermon.
(IIpoictapmevous vuav) in the Lord, and that admo- nish you; and to esteem them more than exceed- ingly (Yrép é« mepiccov) in love, for their work (or, for their office) sake: (so” Epyov frequently signifies in such cases.) And again: Let the elders (or priests, Ot mpecrButepa,) which rule well, be counted worthy of double honour, (or of double recom- pense: So Tiuy also imports.) Priests, as so, for their office sake, have honour and reward due to them ; which, according to the good management of that office, are proportionably to be augmented and multiplied.
But further yet, abstracting from both their personal worth and the merit of their service, con- sider their condition in this world, and see whether it doth not in equity challenge some reasonable provision to be made for them. Are they not, by the nature of their profession, secluded from all ordinary means of temporal advancement ? Be not those usual inlets of wealth, the court, the camp, and the exchange, shut upon them, yea, barred against them, by those insuperable obstacles of law and custom? Can they grow rich by trade, or famous by feats of arms? May they plead for others? It is well if they be allowed to do it for themselves before equal judges. Yet are they not men, endued with human passions and _ resent- ments? Are they not citizens, partaking in the common interests of the weal public? Are they not sensible of the inconveniences, and capable of enjoying the benefits of this life? Are they not equally obliged, and would they not be glad, as well as others, to be in a capacity to requite cour- tesies, to help relations, to gratify friends, to relieve
A Consecration Sermon. 521
the poor, to express respectively their humanity
and their gratitude? Skill they not to use the.
goods of fortune (or rather the gifts of Providence) with as much discretion, as much sobriety, as much honour, as others? Compare things righteously, and let reason judge ; let experience be examined ; let those eternal monuments of their piety, their charity, their hospitality, declare and_ testify. Shall, lastly, the fruits of painful study, the im- provement of hopeful parts, the flower of vigorous age and strength spent in the public service, tend only hither, to put a man into a state of struggling with extreme contempt and penury? If this be not, what I pray you, is monstrous iniquity ?
Since therefore it appears (upon so many seve- ral scores) reasonable, that Almighty God should undertake the protection and assert the honour of his priests, we may not only praise the goodness, but approve also the wisdom of this promise, and by the contemplation thereof strengthen our faith in reliance thereon. ‘To which purpose one consi- deration more may very much conduce, and withal may provoke our gratitude to celebrate his truth and faithfulness in making good, as well as his goodness and wisdom in making, this promise ; viz. the considering how continually hitherto God hath been pleased effectually to clothe his priests with salvation, to provide abundantly for their safety, their accommodation, their respect in this world, and to deliver them from the opposite in- conveniences.
If we reflect our thoughts on the first ages of Christianity, (not more dismal for suffering than glorious for piety,) it is admirable to see how sin-
SERM. sory:
522 A Consecration Sermon.
cerely and passionately the Christian people did then love their priests and pastors ; how liberally, out of their slender stock and the shipwrecks of their spoiled fortunes, they contributed to their maintenance ; what exceeding veneration they bore them ; with what incredible alacrity they submitted to the most severe disciplines enjoined by them ; how willingly they followed them, though leading into the jaws of death and cruel torture: so that, although it was then necessary for the Christian priests to undergo the greatest hardships, accord- ing to the design of Christian religion, (which was to be propagated, not by terror of power, nor by politic artifice, but by the invincible faith, resolu- tion, and patience, of the professors and teachers thereof ;) yet never more may they have seemed to thrive and prosper, than in that juncture of time, when they enjoyed the universal good-will and applause of good people, when they uncon- strainedly embraced affliction for righteousness’ sake, and acquired thereby the certain fruition of a more excellent salvation.
But in the succeeding times, when Christianity, breaking out of the clouds of persecution, began to shine over all with brightest lustre; of the glo- rious and happy fruits of that illustrious triumph none did partake more fully, than they who had sustained the hardest brunts of the foregoing con- flict, and had been the principal causes of the success. ‘Then the joyful acclamations of the faith- ful people resounded in the praise of their victo- rious champions: then did the Emperors them- selves, with arms outstretched and hearts enlarged, with affection embrace the authors of their happy
A Consecration Sermon. 523
conversion : then all laws prejudicial to their wel- SERM. fare were rescinded, and new ones were substi- tuted, abundantly providing for their security, honest livelihood, and due reverence ; which, in progress of time, not in the Roman empire only, but in all other nations, (that afterwards did enter- tain Christianity,) were nowise impaired, but were rather ampliated and fortified by the pious favour of princes : the barbarous Goths, and Vandals, and Lombards, being no sooner endued with any tinc- ture of civility, or any sense of Religion, than possessed with a hearty reverence of their bishops and priests.
And ever since, (which is not to be imputed, as some rashly, if not impiously aver, to the preva- lence of Antichristian iniquity, but rather to the providence of divine Benignity ; ever since, I say,) till the late commotions and alterations in Chris- tendom, they have been the guardians of others’ safety, not themselves deprived of protection; have abounded with wealth, rather than wanted suste- nance ; have been the objects of envy, more than of contempt. Princes have loved and cherished them, have relied upon their advice, and intrusted them with their highest concernments. Nobles have not been ashamed to yield them place. The sacerdotal robe hath been often dyed with purple ; and the sons of mighty monarchs have not thought themselves degraded by entering into their order, And if, in some particular places, (before or since those changes) their condition hath not been so high and plentiful, yet hath it been (almost ever) tolerable ; the countenance of authority and the respect of the people beg in good degree vouch-
524 A Consecration Sermon.
safed them. Even in those churches, which till
-this day groan under the oppression of infidel
princes, the priests (by the free permission of those princes) retain their jurisdiction in a manner as ereat as ever ; and withal enjoy a maintenance not altogether inconsiderable.
So favourable hitherto hath God been unto his priests, so faithful to his promise: which doth oblige us to thank him; which may encourage us to hope in him; which may arm us with confi- dence against the present ill-will of those that wish, and against the practices of those that design our ruin,
It is true, this promise is not affixed to all parts of time, to all particularities of place, to all determinate circumstances of things. The priests may, now and then, here and there, in this or that, suffer highly ; they may be ejected, be plundered, be degraded, as experience hath shewed us. But they may be also soon restored, repossessed, re- advanced, and (I had almost said) revenged too, as the like experience doth assure us. It is not im- possible, I confess, we may relapse into the same, or into a more calamitous estate; the obstinate disaffections of men threaten it, and our own mis- carriages more dangerously: yet the most offen- sive of these (which many honest men dislike, and most men exclaim against) have been in as bitter terms complained of, in almost the first ages. ‘ In- hiant possessionibus, praedia eaxcolunt, auro inecu- bant, emunt venduntque, questur per omnia student,’ said a devout writer of ecclesiastical history* about 1300 years ago. And so much no man (without
* Sulp. Sev. [Hist, Sacr. Lib. 1. cap. 23, p. 24.)
A Consecration Sermon. 525
extreme uncharitableness and falsehood) can in so SERM. XIV.
general terms impute to the present clergy: not-
withstanding which, God did continue to vouch-
safe his protection to them. They were some-
times, (by the inundations of barbarous people,)
and we may again, (by national concussions,) be
severely chastised for our faults: yet were not
they, nor shall we be (at least every where and for
ever) utterly rejected. God may visit our trans- Ps. lxxxix. > ote - 3%, 33; 34-
gressions with the rod, and our imiquity with stripes:
nevertheless his lovingkindness will he not utterly
take from us, nor suffer his faithfulness to ful. His
covenant he will not break, nor alter the thing that
as gone out of his lips. God may for a time hide
his face from us ; but he will not for ever turn his
back upon us: the honour of the priesthood may
for a while be overclouded in some part of the
world; but shall never totally be eclipsed, nor
swallowed up in a perpetual night. While God
continues his residence in Sion, and defends his
church against The gates of hell and powers of Batis Xt
darkness ; while religion retains any sway in the ©
hearts of men, and truth possesses any room upon
earth ; the priests shall not be left destitute and
naked, but everlastingly be clothed with salvation.
Which that it may (to the glory of God and good
of his church) more surely come to pass, let us con-
vert this promise into a prayer, and say with Solo-
mon, Now therefore arise, O Lord God, thou and 2 Chron.
the ark of thy strength: let thy priests, O Lord“ *”
God, be clothed with salvation, and let thy saints
rejoice in goodness. Amen.
SERMON XV.
NOT TO OFFEND IN WORD AN EVIDENCE OF A HIGH PITCH OF VIRTUE.
James III. 2. If any man offend not in word, the same ts a perfect man.
SERM, HIS sentence stands at the head of a discourse concerning the tongue, (that doubtful engine of good and evil,) wherein how excellent benefits, and how grievous mischiefs, it, as rightly or per- versely wielded, is apt to produce, how it is both a sweet instrument of all goodness, and a sharp weapon of all iniquity, is positively laid down, and by fit comparisons illustrated. But secluding all relation to the context, the words may well be ° considered singly by themselves: and as such they instruct us, asserting a certain truth ; they direct us, implying a good duty. They assert that man to be perfect, who offends not in speech ; and they consequently imply, that we should strive to avoid Deut.xviii. Offending therein : for to be perfect, and to go on Tike vi. to perfection, are precepts, the observance whereof Matt.v.48; 8 INcumbent on us. We shall first briefly explain Gor .,, the assertion, and then declare its truth; after- rt. wards we shall press somewhat couched in the duty. To offend originally signifies to impinge*, that
” >’ , * El tis €v Ady@ ov mratet.
Not to offend in Word de. 527
is, to stumble, or hit dangerously upon somewhat gel lying cross our way, so as ther eby to be cast down, or at least to be disordered in our posture, and stopt in our progress : whence it is well transferred to denote our being, through any incident tempta- tion, brought into sin, whereby a man is thrown down, or bowed from his upright state, and inter- rupted from prosecuting a steady course of piety and virtue. By an usual and apposite manner of speaking, our tenor of life is called a way, our Ps. xxxvii. conversation walking, our actions steps, our ob-°”” serving good laws uprightness, our transgression of them tripping, faltering, falling.
By not offending in word, we may easily then conceive to be understood such a constant restraint, and such a careful guidance of our tongue, that it doth not transgress the rules prescribed unto it by divine law, or by good reason ; that it thwarteth not the natural ends and proper uses for which it was framed, to which it is fitted; such as, chiefly, are promoting God’s glory, our neighbour's benefit, and our own true welfare.
By a perfect man is meant a person accom- James i. 4. plished and complete in goodness, one of singular worth and integrity, a brave and excellent man, who, as to the continual tenor of his life, is free from all notorious defects and heinous faults ; like David, Fulfilling all God’s will, and having respect Acta xii to all God's commandments ; like Zachary and Eli- ; Ps. rs zabeth, Walking in all the commandments and? . ¢ ordinances of the Lord blameless. Thus was Noah, Gen.vi.9; thus was Abraham, thus was Job perfect. This is Tee the notion of perfection in holy scripture: not an absolute exemption from all blemish of soul, or blame in life; for such a perfection is inconsistent
528 Not to offend in Word
SERM. with the nature and state of man here, where none _—— with modesty or with truth can say, I have made Prvexs-9: my heart clean, I am pure from my sin ; where every Job ix. 20.man must confess with Job, Jf I justify myself,
mine own mouth shall condemn me; of I say, I am Eccles. vii. perfect, it shall prove me perverse. For, There is a not, as the Preacher assures, a just man upon earth, James iii. that doeth good, and sinneth not; and, In many i things we offend all, is our Apostle’s assertion im- mediately preceding my text ; which words may serve to expound these. In many things, saith he, we offend all; that is, there is no man absolutely perfect : but If any man offend not in word, (that is, if a man constantly govern his tongue well,) that man is perfect; perfect in such a kind and degree as human frailty doth admit; he is emi- nently good; he may be reasonably presumed upright and blameless in all the course of his prac- tice ; Able, as it follows, to bridle the whole body, that is, qualified to order all his actions justly and wisely. So that in effect the words import this ; that a constant governance of our speech, accord- ing to duty and reason, is a high instance and a special argument of a throughly sincere and solid goodness.
The truth of which aphorism may from several -considerations appear.
1 A good governance of speech is a strong evidence of a good mind; of a mind pure from vicious desires, calm from disorderly passions, void of dishonest intentions. for since speech is a child of thought, which the mind always travaileth and teemeth with’, and which after its birth is
> A fool travaileth with a word, as a woman in labour of a child.—Ecclus. xix. 11.
an Evidence of a high Pitch of Virtue. 529
wont in features to resemble its parent ; since every gee man naturally is ambitious to propagate his con- ceits, and without a painful force cannot smother his resentments ; since, especially, bad affections, like stum or poison, are impetuous and turgid, so agitating all the spirits, and so swelling the heart, that it cannot easily compose or contain them ; since a distempered constitution of mind, as of body, is wont to weaken the retentive faculty, and to force an evacuation of bad humours ; since he, that wanteth the principal wisdom of well order- ing his thoughts and mastering his passions, can hardly be conceived so prudent, as long to refrain, or to regulate their dependence, speech ; consider- ing these things, I say, it is scarce possible, that he, which commonly thinks ill, should constantly either be well silent, or speak well. To conceal fire, to check lightning, to confine a whirlwind, may per- haps be no less feasible, than to keep within due compass the exorbitant motions of a soul, wherein reason hath lost its command, so that Qua data porta’, where the next passage occurs, they should not rush forth, and vent themselves. A vain mind naturally will bubble forth or fly out in frothy expressions; wrath burning in the breast will flame out, or at least smoke through the mouth ; rancorous imposthumes of spite and malice will at length discharge purulent matter; lust, boiling within, will soon foam out in lewd discourse. If the fountain itself is polluted, or infected, how can the streams be clear or wholesome? JZow can ye, yfatt. xii. being evil, speak good things? saith our Lord ; for ** 3 from the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh. © [Virg. Ain. 1. 83.] B.S. VOL. I. o4
SERM.
=<
Ps, xxxix. a
1 Pet. iii. 4.
530 Not to offend in Word
A good man, addeth he, out of the good treasure of
"the heart bringeth forth good things; and an evil
man out of the evil treasure bringeth forth evil things: ’ExBdddeu rovnpa, He casteth forth ul things, as a fountain doth its waters by a natural and necessary ebullition. It is true, that in some par- ticular cases, or at some times, a foul heart may be disguised by fair words, or covered by demure reservedness: shame, or fear, or crafty design, may often repress the declaration of ill thoughts and purposes. But such fits of dissimulation can- not hold ; men cannot abide quiet under so violent constraints ; the intestine jars, or unkindly truces, between heart and tongue (those natural friends) cannot be perpetual, or very durable : no man can hold his breath long, or live without evaporating through his mouth those steams of passion which arise from flesh and blood. My heart was hot within me, while I was musing the fire burned ; then spake I with my tongue, saith David, express- ing the difficulty of obstructing the eruption of our affections into language. Hence it is, that speech is commonly judged the truest character of the mind‘, and the surest test of inward worth; as that which discloseth The hidden man of the heart, which unlocketh the closets of the breast, which draws the soul out of her dark recesses into open light and view, which rendereth our thoughts visible, and our intentions palpable. Hence, Lo- quere, ut te videam, Speak, that I may see you, or know what kind of man you are, is a saying which all men, at first meeting, do in their hearts direct
1 ‘Avdpds xapakrip ék Adyou yvapiterat. [Menand. Sentent. Sing. 26. Ed. Meineke. ]
an Evidence of a high Pitch of Virtue. 531
one to another: neither commonly doth any man SEEM. require more to ground a judgment upon, concern- ———— ing the worth or ability of another, than oppor- tunity of hearing him to discourse for a competent time: yea, often before a man hath spoken ten words, his mind is caught, and a formal sentence is passed upon it. Such a strict affinity and connec- tion do all men suppose between thoughts and words.
2 From hence, that the use of speech is itself a great ingredient into our practice, and hath a very general influence upon whatever we do, may be inferred, that whoever governeth it well, can- not also but well order his whole life. The extent of speech must needs be vast, since it is nearly commensurate to thought itself, which it ever closely traceth, widely ranging through all the immense variety of objects; so that men almost as often speak incogitantly, as they think silently. Speech is indeed the rudder that steereth human affairs, the spring that setteth the wheels of action on going; the hands work, the feet walk, all the members, and all the senses act by its direction and impulse; yea, most thoughts are begotten, and most affections stirred up thereby: it is itself most of our employment, and what we do beside it, is however guided and moved by it. It is the pro- fession and trade of many, it is the practice of all men, to be in a manner continually talking. The chief and most considerable sort of men manage all their concernments merely by words; by uaa princes rule their subjects, generals command their armies, senators deliberate and debate about the
34—2
SERM. XV.
532 Not to offend in Word
ereat matters of state; by them advocates plead causes, and judges decide them; divines perform their offices, and minister their instructions; mer- chants strike up their bargains, and drive on all their traftick. Whatever almost, great or small, is done in the court or in the hall, in the church or at the exchange, in the school or in the shop, it is the tongue alone that doeth it: it is the force of this little machine that turneth all the human world about. It is indeed the use of this strange organ which rendereth human life, beyond the sim- ple life of other creatures, so exceedingly various and compounded ; which creates such a multiplicity of business, and which transacts it; while by it we communicate our secret conceptions, transfusing them into others; while therewith we instruct and advise one another; while we consult about what is to be done, contest about right, dispute about truth; while the whole business of conversation, of commerce, of government, and administration of justice, of learning, and of religion, is managed thereby; yea, while it stoppeth the gaps of time, and filleth up the wide intervals of business, our recreations and divertisements (the which do con- stitute a great portion of our life) mainly consist- ing therein, so that, m comparison thereof, the execution of what we determine, and all other action do take up small room: and even all that usually dependeth upon foregoing speech, which persuadeth, or counselleth, or commandeth it. Whence the province of speech being so very large, it being so universally concerned, either immedi- ately as the matter, or by consequence as the
an Evidence of a high Pitch of Virtue. 533
source of our actions, he, that constantly govern- SERM. eth it well, may justly be esteemed to live very i excellently.
3 To govern the tongue well is a matter of ex- ceeding difficulty, requiring not only hearty good- ness, but great judgment and art, together with much vigilance and circumspection; whence the doing it argues a high pitch of virtue. For, since the tongue is a very loose and versatile engine, which the least breath of thought doth stir, and set on going any way, it cannot but need much attention to keep it, either in a steady rest, or in a right motion. Since numberless swarms of things roving in the fancy do thence incessantly obtrude themselves upon the tongue, very much application of mind and great judgment are requisite to select out of them those few which are good and fit, rejecting all that is bad and improper to be spoken. Since continually temptations occur, provoking or alluring to miscarriage in this kind, (for beside in- ternal propensions and commotions of soul, every object we behold, every company we are engaged in, every accident befalling us, doth suggest some- what inviting thereto; the condition of our neigh- bour moving us, if high, to flatter, if low, to insult; our own fortune prompting, 1f prosperous, to boast, if cross, to murmur; any action drawing from us, if it pleaseth us, fond admiration, if it disliketh, harsh censure: since, I say, we are thus at every turn obnoxious to speak amiss,) it must be matter of huge skill and caution, of mighty industry and resolution to decline it. We for that purpose need to imitate that earnest and watchful care of the holy Psalmist, which he thus expresseth; I have, ps. xvii. 3.
534 Not to offend in Word
saith he, purposed that my mouth shall not offend :
-and, I said, saith he again, J will take heed to my
ways, that I sin not with my tongue; I will keep my mouth with a bridle, while the wicked is before me. And thus to maintain a constant guard over his heart and ways, thus in consequence thereof to curb and rule his speech well, must assuredly be the mark of a very good person, Especially con- sidering, that,
4 Irregular speech hath commonly divers more advantages for it, and fewer checks upon it, than other bad practice hath. A man is apt, I mean, to speak ill with less dissatisfaction and regret from within; he may do it with less control and less hazard from without, than he can act ill. Bad actions are gross and bulky, taking up much time, and having much force spent on them, whence men easily observe and consider them in themselves and others: but ill words are subtile and transient, soon born, and as soon deceased ; whence men rashly utter them, without much heed before them, or much reflection after them. Bad actions have also usually visible effects immediately consequent on them: but words operate insensibly and at dist- ance; so that men hardly discern what will follow them, or what they have effected. There are also frequent occasions of speaking ill, upon presump- tion of secrecy, and thence of indisturbance and impunity; yea, doing so is often entertained with complacence, and encouraged with applause: the vilest abuses of speech (even blasphemy, treason, and slander themselves) may be safely whispered into ears, which will receive them with plea- sure and commendation. Bad language also in
an Evidence of a high Pitch of Virtue. 535
most cases is neither strictly prohibited, nor se- sae verely chastised by human laws, as bad action is, —— Whence ordinarily the guilt of this misbehaviour
seems little or none; and persons much practising
it, both in their own conceit, and in the opinion of others, do often pass for innocent. Men indeed
here will hardly discern any rule, or acknowledge
any obligation: the tongue they deem is free, and
any words may be dispensed with: it is sufficient”
if they abstain from doing gross wrong or mis-
chief, they have a right and liberty to say any thing: Our lips are our own; who ts Lord over Ps. xii. 4. us? so are Men commonly prone to say, with those
in the Psalm. Hence whosoever, notwithstanding
such encouragements to offend herein, and so few restraints from it, doth yet carefully forbear it, governing his tongue according to rules of duty
and reason, may justly be reputed a very good
man, Furthermore,
5 Whereas most of the enormities, the mis- chiefs, and the troubles, whereby the souls of men are defiled, their minds discomposed, and their lives disquieted, are the fruits of ill-governed speech; it being that chiefly which perverteth jus- tice, which soweth dissensions, which raiseth all bad passions and animosities, which embfoileth the world in seditions and factions, by which men wrong and abuse, deceive and seduce, defame and disgrace one another, whereby consequently innu- merable vexations and disturbances are created among men; he that by well governing his speech preserveth himself from the guilt, disengageth his mind and life from the inconveniences of all such evils, (from the discreet and honest management
536 Not to offend in Word
SERM. thereof enjoying both innocence and peace,) must __ necessarily be, as a very wise and happy, so a very good and worthy person.
6 His tongue also, so ruled, cannot but produce very good fruits of honour to God, of benefit to our neighbour, of comfort to himself: it will be sweet and pleasant, it will be wholesome and useful ; endearing conversation, cementing peaceful society ; breeding and nourishing love, instructing and edi- Prov. xii. fying, or cheering and comforting the hearers. His ToGex. 00s 5 5 > xv. 4; xii, Congue ts health; His mouth is a well and tree of A cores ‘life; His lips disperse knowledge; He shall be xxly. 26. sotisfied with good by the fruit of his mouth.
Every man shall kiss his ips. Such, as the Wise Man telleth us, are the effects of innocent, sober, and well-ordered discourse; the which do much commend their author, and declare the excellent virtue of that tree, from which such fruits do orow.
7 Lastly, the observation, how unusual this practice is in any good degree, may strongly assure the excellency thereof. For, the rarer, espe- cially in morals, any good thing is, the more noble and worthy it is; that rarity arguing somewhat of peculiar difficulty in the attainment or the achieve- ment thereof. Nothing is more obvious to com- mon experience, than that persons, who in the rest of their demeanour and dealings appear blameless, yea, who, in regard to other points of duty, would seem nice and precise, are extremely peccant in this kind. We may see divers, otherwise much restraining and much denying themselves, who yet indulge themselves a strange licentiousness im speaking whatever their humour or their passion
an Evidence of a high Pitch of Virtue. 537
dictates. Many, in other respects harmless, (who SERM. would not for any thing smite or slay folks,) we may observe with their tongue to commit horrible outrages upon any man that comes in their way. Frequently persons, very punctual in their deal- ings, are very unjust in their language, cheating and robbing their neighbour of his reputation by en- vious detraction and hard censure. They, who abhor shedding a man’s blood, will yet, without any scruple or remorse, by calumnious tales and virulent reproaches, assassinate his credit, and murder his good name, although to him perhaps far more dear and precious than his life. Com- monly such, as are greatly staunch in other enjoy- ments of pleasure, are enormously intemperate in speaking, and very incontinent of their tongue: men, in all other parts of morality rigorously sober, are often in this very wild and dissolute. Yea, not seldom we may observe, that even mighty pre- tenders to godliness, and zealous practisers of de- votion, cannot forbear speaking things plainly ‘repugnant to God’s law, and very prejudicial to his honour. Thus it is observable to be now; and thus we may suppose that it always hath been. So of his time St Hierome, (or rather St Paulinus, in his excellent Epistle to Celantia) testifies: Such a lust (saith he, concerning the ill governance of speech) of this evil hath invaded the minds of men, that even those, who have far receded from other vices, do yet fall into this, as into the last snare of the Devil’. So it appears, that among all sorts of good
© Tanta hujus mali libido mentes hominum invasit, ut etiam qui procul ab aliis vitiis recesserunt, in istud tamen, quasi in ex-
538 Not to offend in Word
ae practice, the strict governance of the tongue is least ordinary, and consequently, that it is most admir- able and excellent. And this is all I shall say for confirmation of the point asserted.
Now then, as it is our duty to aim at perfection, or to endeavour the attainment of integrity in heart and life, so we should especially labour to govern our tongue, and guard it from offence. To which purpose it is requisite, that we should well under- stand and consider the nature of those several of- fences to which speech is liable, together with the special pravity, deformity, and inconvenience of each: for, did we know and weigh them, we should not surely either like or dare to incur them,
The offences of speech are many and various in kind; so many as there be of thought and of action, unto which they do run parallel: accordingly they well may be distinguished from the difference of objects which they do specially respect. Whence, 1 some of them are committed agamst God, and confront piety; 2 others against our neighbour, and violate justice, or charity, or peace; 3 others against ourselves, infringing sobriety, discretion, or modesty; or, 4 some are of a more general and abstracted nature, rambling through all mat- ters, and crossing all the heads of duty. It is true, that in most, or in all offences of speech, there is a complication of impiety, iniquity, and imprudence; for that by all sorts of ill speaking we sin against God, and break his commandment; we injure our neighbour, at least by contagion
tremum diaboli laqueum, incidant.—[Inter Opp. Hieron. Ep. cix. Tom. ty. p. ii. col. 816.)
an Evidence of a high Pitch of Virtue. 539
and bad example; we abuse ourselves, contracting saa guilt, and exposing ourselves to punishment: also ——~— the general vices of speech (unadvisedness and vanity) do constantly adhere to every bad word:
yet commonly each evil speech hath a more direct
and immediate aspect upon some one of those ob-
jects, (God, our neighbour, or ourselves,) and is peculiarly repugnant to one of those capital virtues
(piety, charity, and sobriety) unto which all our
duty is reduced. Now, according to this distinction,
I should, if time would give leave, describe and dissuade particularly all these sorts of offence: but
(since I must be respectful to patience, and careful myself not to offend in speech) I shall confine the
rest of my present discourse to the first sort, the offences against piety; and even of them I shall (waving the rest) only touch two or three, insinu-
ating some reasons why we should eschew them.
These are,
I. Speaking blasphemously against God, or ps, reproachfully concerning religion, or to the disgrace **“" of piety, with intent to subvert men’s faith in God, Numb. or to impair their reverence of him. There hath Job xxxiv. been a race of men (and would to God that race *’ were not even till now continued) concerning whom the Psalmist said, They speak loftily, they ps. xxiii. set their mouth against the heavens; who, like the * 9% proud Sennacherib, Lift wp their eyes, and exalt Isai. their voice against the Holy One of Israel; who, 7 Chron.” with the profane Antiochus, Speak marvellous 5%" 1” things against the God of gods. This of all impie- 3° ties is the most prodigiously gigantic, the most signal practice of enmity towards God, and down- right waging of war against heaven. Of all
SERM. Ve
Tsai.liv.17.
540 Not to offend in Word
weapons formed against God, the tongue most notoriously doth impugn him; for we cannot reach heaven with our hands, or immediately assault God by our actions: other ill practice indeed obliquely, or by consequence dishonoureth God, and defameth goodness; but profane discourse is directly levelled at them, and doth immediately touch them, as its formal objects. Now doing thus argueth an ex- tremity both of folly and naughtiness: for, he that doeth it, either believeth the existence of God, and the truth of religion; or he distrusts them. If he doth believe them, what a desperate madness is it in him, advisedly to invite certain mischief to his home, and pull down heaviest vengeance on his own head, by opposing the irresistible power, and provoking the inflexible justice of God! What an abominable villany and baseness is it thus to abuse God’s immense goodness and mercy, offering such despite to the Author of his being, and free Donor of all the good he enjoys! What a monstrous con- spiracy is it of stupidity and perverseness in him, thus wilfully to defy his own welfare, to forfeit all capacity of happiness; to precipitate and plunge himself into a double hell, that of bitter remorse here, that of endless pain hereafter! But if he, that reproacheth God and Religion, be supposed dis- trustful of their being and reality, neither so is he excusable from like degrees of folly and pravity: for, beside the wild extravagance of such disbelief, against legions of cogent arguments and pregnant testimonies, against all the voice of nature and faith of history, against the settled judgment of wise and sober persons who have studied and con- sidered the point, against the current tradition of
an Evidence of a high Pitch of Virtue. 541
all ages, and general consent of mankind; all which SEEM. to withstand, no less demonstrateth high indiscre- ———— tion than arrogance; beside also the palpable silli- ness which he displays, in causelessly (or for no other cause than soothing a fantastic humour) drawing upon himself the anger and hatred of all men who are concerned for the interests of their religion, thrusting himself into great dangers and mischiefs thence imminent to him, both from pri- vate zeal and public law; beside, I say, these evi- dent follies, there is an unsufferable insolence and horrible malice apparent in this practice; for it is no less than the height of insolence, thus to affront mankind in matters of highest consideration, and deepest resentment with it; not only thwarting its common notions, but vilifying the chief objects of its highest respect and affection, of its main care and concernment; so making the fiercest invasion that can be on its credit, and charging it with greatest fondness. Who can endure that He, whom he apprehends to be his grand Parent, his best Friend and Benefactor, his great Patron and Sovereign, should in downright terms be defamed or disparaged? Who can patiently bear that, wherein he placeth his utmost hopes and supreme felicity, to be expressly shghted or scorned? Who can take the offermg to do this, otherwise than for a most injurious reflection upon his judgment and his practice? If he cannot believe in God, he may let them alone who do: if he will not practise Re- ligion, he may forbear to persecute it. He cannot pretend any zeal; it is therefore only pride that moves him to disturb us. So may every man, with all the reason in the world, complain against the
542 Not to offend in Word
profane talker. Seeing also it is most evident, that hearty reverence of God, and a conscientious regard to Religion, do produce great benefits to mankind, being indeed the main supports of com- mon honesty and sobriety, the sole curbs, effectually restraining men from unjust fraud and violence, from brutish lusts and passions; since apparently Religion prescribeth the best rules, and imposeth the strongest engagements to the performance of those actions, whereby not only men’s private wel- fare is promoted, and ordinary conversation is sweetened, and common life is adorned, but also whereby public order and peace are maintained ; since, as Cicero with good reason judged, Piety being removed, it is probable that justice uself (of all virtues the best guarded and fortified by human power) could not subsist, no faith could be secured, no society could be preserved among men‘; it being manifestly vain to fancy, that assuredly without religious conscience any one will be a good subject, a true friend, or an honest man; or that any other consideration can induce men to prefer duty to their prince, the prosperity of their country, fidelity toward their friends or neighbours, before their own present interests and pleasure: since, I say, the credit of Religion is so very beneficial and use- ful to mankind, it is plain, that he must be exceed- ingly spiteful and malicious, who shall, by profane discourse, endeavour to supplant or shake it. He, that speaketh against God’s providence, hath as- suredly a pique at goodness, and would not have
f Taud scio an, pietate adversus Deos sublata, fides etiam, et societas generis humani, et una excellentissima virtus, justitia, tol- latur.—Cic. [de Nat. Deor. 1. 2, 4.]
an Evidence of a high Pitch of Virtue. 548
it predominant in the hearts of men. He, that ae disparages Religion, doth certainly take his aim against virtue, and would not have it practised in the world: his meaning plainly is, to effect, if he can, that men should live like beasts in foul impu- rities, or like fiends in mischievous iniquities. Such an one, therefore, is not to be taken asa simple em- bracer of error, but as a spiteful designer against common good. For indeed, were any man assured (as none can upon so much as probable grounds think it) that Religion had been only devised by men, as a supplemental aid to reason® and force, (drawing them, whom the one could not persuade, nor the other compel, to the practice of things con- ducible to the public weal;) that it were merely an implement of policy, or a knack to make people loyal to their prince, upright in their dealings, sober in their conversations, moderate in their pas- sions, virtuous in all their doings; it were yet a most barbarous naughtiness and inhumanity in him to assay the overthrow thereof, with the de- feating so excellent purposes: he, that should at- tempt it, justly would deserve to be reputed an enemy to the welfare of mankind, to be treated as a pestilent disturber of the world.
II. Another like offence against piety is, to speak loosely and wantonly about holy things, (things nearly related to God or to Religion,) to make such things the matter of sport and mockery, to play and trifle with them. But of this I shall have occasion to speak in another discourse.
Tit. Another grand offence against piety is,
§ Ut quos ratio non posset, eos ad officium religio duceret.— Id.{?]
SERM.
Matt. v. 34, 37-
James v. 12.
544 Not to offend in Word
rash and vain swearing in common discourse; an offence which now strangely reigns and rages in the world, passing about in a specious garb and under glorious titles, as a genteel and graceful qua- lity, a mark of fine breeding, and a point of high gallantry. Who, forsooth, now is the brave spark and complete gentleman, but he that hath the skill , and confidence (O heavens! how mean a skill! how mad a confidence!) to lard every sentence with an oath or a curse; making bold at every turn to salute God, fetching him down from heaven to avouch any idle prattle, to second any giddy pas- sion, to concern himself in any trivial affair of his; yea, calling and challenging the Almighty to damn and destroy him! But somewhat to repress these fond conceits and vile practices, let us, I pray, con- sider,
1 That swearing thus is most expressly and strictly prohibited to us. I say unto you, Swear not at all: but let your conversation be, Yea, yea; Nay, nay; for whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil: so our Lord forbids it. But above all things, my brethren, swear not—lest you enter into condemnation: so doth St James warn against it. And is it not then prodigious, that in Christendom any man should affect to break laws so plain and so severe; that it should pass here, not only for a tolerable, but even for a commendable practice, to violate so manifest and so important a duty; that so directly to thwart our Lord himself should be a thing not in use only, but in credit and request among Christians? What more palpable affront could be offered to our Religion, and to all that is sacred among us? For what respect or force can
an Evidence of a high Pitch of Virtue. 545
we imagine reserved to religion, while a practice so poe Gakepatable opposite Pesto, in a high degree, is so current and prevalent?
2 Again, according to the very nature and reason of things, it is evidently an intolerable pro- faneness, thus unadvisedly to make addresses and appeals to God, invoking his testimony, and de- manding his judgment about trifles; far more such, than it were a high presumption and encroach- ment upon the majesty of a prince, on every petty occasion to break into his presence, and to assail his ears, dragoing him to hear and determine con- cerning it. Whence the very light of nature con- demns this practice, and even heathens have loudly declared against it, as derogatory to the reverence of the Deity, and unsuitable to the gravity of a worthy man.
3 Swearing indeed is, by our holy Oracles, worthily represented to us, as an especial piece of worship and devotion toward God; wherein, duly performed, we piously acknowledge his chief attri- butes and singular prerogatives: (His being every where present, and conscious of all we say or do; his goodness and fidelity, in favouring truth and protecting right; his justice, im rewarding veracity and equity, in avenging falsehood and iniquity; his being the supreme Lord of all persons, and last Judge in all causes; to signify and avow these things to God’s glory, swearing was instituted, and naturally serveth:) wherefore, as all other acts of devotion, so this grand one especially should never be performed without all serious consideration and humble reverence; the cause should be certainly just and true, the matter worthy and weighty, the
B.8. VOL. I. 30
546 Not to offend in Word
SERM. manner grave and solemn, the mind framed to
earnest attention, and furnished with devout affec-
tions. Those conditions are always carefully to
be observed, which the prophet intimates when
Jer. iv.2- he chargeth thus; Thou shalt swear, The Lord
liveth, in truth, in judgment, and in righteousness.
It is therefore horrible mockery and profanation
of a most sacred ordinance, when men presume
to use it without any care or consideration, with-
out any respect or awe, upon any slight or vain occasion. |
4 The doing so is also very prejudicial to
human society; for the decision of right, the secu-
rity of government, and the preservation of peace,
do much depend upon an awful regard to oaths;
and therefore upon their being only used in due
manner and season: the same do greatly suffer by
the contempt or disregard of them, and conse-
quently by their common and careless use. They
are the surest bonds by which the consciences of
men are tied to the attestation of truth and observ-
ance of faith; the which, as by rare and reverent
use they are kept firm and fast, so by frequent and
negligent application of them (by their prostitution
to every light and toyish matter) they are quite
dissolved, or much slackened. Whence the public
seems much concerned, that this enormity should
be retrenched. For, if oaths generally become
cheap and vile, what will that of allegiance signify ?
If men are wont to dally with swearing every
where, can they be expected to be strict and seri-
ous therein at the bar, or in the church? Will
they regard the testimony of God, or dread his
judgment, in one place, or at one time, whenas
an Evidence of a high Pitch of Virtue. 547
every where continually (upon any, upon no occa- pg sion) they dare to confront and contemn them ?
5 This way of swearing is also a very uncivil and unmannerly practice. It is, not only a gross rudeness toward the main body of men, who justly reverence the name of God, and loathe such abuses thereof; not only an insolent defiance to the com- mon profession and law of our country, which dis- allows and condemns it; but it is very odious and offensive to any particular society, if at least there be one sober person therein: for, to any such person (who retains a sense of goodness, or is any- wise concerned for God’s honour) no language or behaviour can be more diseustful; nothing can more grate the ears or fret the heart of such an one, than this kind of talk: to give him the lie were a compliment, to spit in his face were an obligation, in comparison thereto. Wherefore it is a wonder, that any person, having in him a spark of ingenuity, or at all pretending to good manners, should find in his heart or deign to use it.
6 This practice also much derogateth from the credit of him that useth it, rendering the truth of whatever he says, in reason and justice, suspected. For, he that is so void of conscience as to swear vainly, what can engage him to speak truly? He, that is so loose in one such point of obedience to God and reason, what should we conceive him in regard to another?
7 It can be surely no wrong to distrust him, since he implies himself not to be, even in his own opinion, a credible person; since he judges not his own bare affirmation to deserve belief. For why, if he takes his word to be competently good, doth
548 Not to offend in Word
seRM. he back it with such asseverations? Why, unpro- *“"_ voked, calls he God to witness, if he thinks his own honesty sufficient to assure the truth of what he says’? An honest man, methinks, should scorn thus to invalidate his own credit, or to detract from the authority of his word, which should stand firm upon itself, and not want an oath to sup-
port it.
8 To excuse this, the swearer must be forced to confess another ugly fault in speaking, that is, impertinence, or using of waste and insignificant words; to be charged wherewith, he is indeed how- ever unavoidably liable. For oaths, as they pass commonly, are mere excrescences of speech’, which do nothing else but encumber and deform it: they embellish discourse, just as a wen or a scab does beautify a face; as a spot or a patch do adorn a garment. For to what purpose, I pray, is God's name haled into our idle talk? Why should we so often mention him, when we never mean any thing about him? Into every sentence to foist a dog, or a horse, would altogether be as proper and perti- nent. These superfluous words signify nothing, but that the speaker little skilleth the use of speech, or the rule of conversation, but meaneth to prate any thing without wit or judgment; that his fancy is very beggarly, and craves the aid of any imper- tinency to relieve it. One would think, that a man of sense should grutch to lend his ears, or incline his attention, to such putid stuff; that, without
h Tantus in te sit veri amor, ut quicquid dixeris, juratum putes.—Hier. {(Paulinus) ad Celant. Ep. cix. Opp. Tom. Iv. p. ii. col. 817.]
' TIpds dvanAjpoow d6yov.—Hierocles. [in Aur. Carm. Com. p. 38.]
an Evidence of a high Pitch of Virtue. 549
nauseating, he should not endure to see men lavish time, find squander breath so frivolously.
9 In fine, this offence is particularly most inexcusable, in that it scarce hath any temptation to it, or bringeth with it any advantage; so that it is unaccountable, what (beside mere vanity or per- verseness) should dispose men thereto. It grati- fieth no sense, it yieldeth no profit, it procureth no honour, for the sound of it is not very melodious, nor, surely, was any man ever preferred for it, or got an estate thereby; it rather, to any good ear, maketh a horrid and jarring noise, it rather pro- duceth displeasure, damage, and disgrace. Where- fore, of all dealers in sin, the swearer is apparently the silliest, and maketh the worst bargains for him- self; for he sinneth gratis, and, like those in the Prophet, selleth his soul for nothing. An epicure hath some reason, and an extortioner is a man of wisdom, if compared to him; for they enjoy some pleasure, or acquire some gain here, in lieu of their salvation hereafter. But he offends heaven, and abandons happiness, he knows not why, nor for what; a fond humour possesses him, he inconsider- ately follows a herd of fops, he affects to play the ape; that is all he can say for himself. Let me be pardoned, if just indignation against a wickedness so contemptible, so heinous, and so senseless, and withal so notorious, and so rife among us, doth extort from me language somewhat tart and vehe- ment.
If men would then but a little consider things, surely this scurvy fashion would be soon discarded, much fitter for the scum of the people, than for the flower of the gentry; yea rather, much below any
i
Isai. lii. 3.
550 Not to offend in Word
SERM. man endued with a scrap of reason, not to say with —_a orain of Religion. Could we bethink ourselves, certainly modest, sober, and pertinent discourse, would appear far more generous and manly, than such wild hectornmg God Almighty, such rude insulting over the received laws, such ruffianly swaggering against sobriety and goodness. If gentlemen would regard the virtues of their ances- tors, (that gallant courage, that solid wisdom, that noble courtesy, which first advanced their families, and severed them from the vulgar,) this degenerate wantonness and dirtiness of speech would return to the dunghill, or rather (which God grant) would
be quite banished from the world.
Finally, as to this whole point, about not offending, in our speech, against piety, we should consider, that, as we ourselves, with all our mem- bers and powers, were chiefly designed and framed to serve and glorify our Maker; (it being withal the greatest perfection of our nature, and the noblest privilege thereof so to do;) so, especially, our tongue and speaking faculty were given us, to declare our admiration and reverence of him, to express our love and gratitude toward him, to cele- brate his praises, to acknowledge his benefits, to promote his honour and service. This, consequently, is the most proper and worthy use thereof; from this it becomes in effect what the Psalmist so often
Ps. xvi. 9; terms it, our Glory, and The best member we have ; vii.8; as that, whereby we far excel all creatures here “™" below; that, whereby we consort with the blessed angels above, in distinct utterance of praise to our Creator. Wherefore applying it to any impious discourse, (tending anywise to the dishonour of
an Evidence of a high Pitch of Virtue. 551
God, or disparagement of Religion,) is a most unna- SERM. tural abuse thereof, and a vile ingratitude toward him that gave it to us. From which, and from all other offences, God in his mercy preserve us all, through Jesus Christ our Lord, unto whom for ever, with heart and tongue, let us strive to render all glory and praise. Amen.
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