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LIBEAEY 


OF  THE 


Theological  Seminary 

PRINCETON,   N.  J. 

Case,_$gu^  Division   <L^~ 

BX  5037    .B32   1845  v.l 
Barrow,   Isaac,  1630-lfa//. 
The  works  of  Isaac  Barrow 


T  H  E    W  O  R  K  S 

OF 

DR.    ISAAC  ^ARRO  W. 

WITH 

SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  HIS  LIFE, 
IMARY  OF  EACH    DISCOURSE,   NOTES,  j 
BY  THE  REV.  T.  S.  HUGHES,  B.  D. 
VOL.  I. 
LONDON : 

1..I1VTED  AND  PUBLISHED  BY  A.  J.  VALPV,  M.A. 

-AVI)   SOLD   BY   ALL  BOOKSELLERS. 

1830. 


1 


TO 

THE  RIGHT  REVEREND 

HERBERT 
LORD  BISHOP  OF  PETERBOROUGH, 

AND 

lady    Margaret's    professor    of    divinity  jn 
the  university  of  cambridge, 

THESE  VOLUMES, 

CONTAINING 

THE  SERMONS  OF  DR.  ISAAC  BARROW, 

ARE  DEDICATED  BY   THE  EDITOR; 
NOT  ONLY  FROM  MOTIVES  OF  PERSONAL  RESPECT  AND 
GRATITUDE, 

BUT  BECAUSE  NO  NAME  IN  THE  PRESENT  TIMES 
CAN   WITH    MORE  PROPRIETY    BE    PREFIXED    TO  THE 

WRITINGS  OF  SO  GREAT  A  MAN, 
THAN  THAT  OF  A  PRELATE  WHO  FORMS  A  REMARKABLE 
PARALLEL  WITH  HIM  IN  THE  COMBINED 

ACQUIREMENTS  OF 
LITERATURE,  SCIENCE,  AND  THEOLOGY. 


Digitized  by 

the  Internet  Archive 

in  2014 

https://archive.org/details/worksofdrisaacba01barr_0 


PRINCE  TOH 


THEQLQGIC&Ii, 


*^rvvvw'< 

CONTENTS 


THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


Biographical  Memoir  of  Dr.  Isaac  Ba 


SERMONS. 

I.  — The  Pleasantness  of  Religion. 

Proverbs  III.  17. — Her  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness, 
and  all  her  paths  are  peace  1 

II.  —  The  Profitableness  of  Godliness. 

i  Timothy  iv.  8.  ■ — But  godliness  is  profitable  for 

all  things.  22 

III.  — The  Profitableness  of  Godliness. 

i  Timothy  iv.  8.  •  But  godliness  is  profitable  for 

all  things  47 


IV. — The  Reward  of  honoring  God. 

1  Samuel  11.  30.— For  them  that  honor  me  I  will 
honor  74 


vi 


CONTENTS. 


TAC.ll 

V.  — Upright  walking  sure  walking. 

Proverbs  x.  9. — He  that  walketh  uprightly,  walketh 

surely  1021 

VI.  — Of  the  duty  of  Prayer. 

i  Thessalonians  v.  17. — Pray  without  ceasing.        .  123 

VII.  — Of  the  duty  of  Prayer. 

i  Thessalonians  v.  17. — Pray  without  ceasing.        .  140 

VIII.  — Of  the  duty  of  Thanksgiving. 

Ephesians  v.  20. — Giving  thanks  always  for  all  things 
unto  God  162  ^ 

IX.  — Of  the  duty  of  Thanksgiving. 

Ephesians  v.  20. — Giving  thanks  always  for  all  things 
unto  God.  187 

X.  — On  the  King's  happy  return. 

i  Timothy  ii.  1.  2. — 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.     .........  219 

XI.  — On  the  Gunpowder-Treason. 

Psalm  lxiv.  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   252 

XII.  — A  Consecration  Sermon. 

Psalm  cxxxii.  16. — I  will  also  clothe  her  priests  with 
salvation.  284 


CONTENTS.  vji 

IMCE 

XIII. — Not  to  offend  in  word  an  evidence  of  a  high  pitch  of 
virtue. 

James  III.  2. — If  any  man  offend  not  in  word,  he  is  a 


perfect  man  321 

XIV.  — Against  foolish  talking  and  jesting. 

Ephesians  v.  4.  Nor  foolish  talking,  nor  jesting, 

which  are  not  convenient.  344 

XV.  — Against  rash  and  vain  swearing. 

James  v.  12. — But  above  all  things,  my  brethren,  swear 
not.  373 

XVI.  — Of  evil-speaking  in  general. 

Titus  III.  2.  To  speak  evil  of  no  man.        .       .  401 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


Thk  Publisher  begs  leave  to  acquaint  his  Subscribers, 
that  the  future  Numbers  of  this  Edition  will  be  enriched 
with  some  hitherto  unpublished  Sermons  of  Dr.  Barrow. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR 

OF 

DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


In  the  life  of  a  scholar  who  has  escaped  the  trammels 
of  public  employment,  and  shunned  the  turbulence  of 
party  faction,  it  cannot  be  expected  that  very  numerous 
incidents  should  be  found,  to  exercise  the  writer's  judg- 
ment, or  excite  the  reader's  curiosity  :  yet  neither  of  them 
will  have  reason  to  complain,  provided  the  excellence  of 
the  subject  compensates  for  the  deficience  of  interest,  and 
the  spirit  of  emulation  can  be  awakened,  though  curiosity 
may  remain  unsatisfied ;  in  short,  if  they  be  led,  as  in  the 
present  instance,  to  the  retrospect  of  splendid  talents, 
great  learning,  and  various  acquirements,  uniformly  ex- 
erted in  the  cause  of  virtue  and  for  the  good  of  society. 
It  is  matter  of  surprise  that  some  such  considerations  as 
these  should  never  have  induced  any  one,  qualified  for  the 
undertaking,  to  collect  more  extensive  information,  and  to 
compose  a  more  complete  biography,  than  has  yet  appeared, 
of  the  illustrious  person  who  is  the  subject  of  our  present 
memoir  :  the  task  was  strongly  recommended,  soon  after 
BAR.  VOL.  I.  b 


X 


BIOGRAPHICAL*  MEMOIR  OF 


his  decease,  by  those  who  best  knew  his  worth ;  but  their 
suggestions  were  unheeded,  until  his  contemporaries  fol- 
lowed him  to  the  silent  grave ;  and  little  is  known  of 
Isaac  Barrow  beyond  what  is  contained  in  a  slight  sketch 
drawn  up  by  one  of  his  executors,*  and  prefixed  to  the 
first  edition  of  his  works :  fortunately  however  his  own 
writings,  particularly  those  whose  Latin  dress  has  too  long 
kept  them  from  general  investigation,  contain  much  accurate 
and  authentic  information  respecting  their  author,  fur- 
nishing us  with  as  clear  an  insight  into  his  character,  as 
those  of  any  writer  who  has  not  expressly  left  memorials 
of  his  own  life.  On  these  genuine  and  important  docu- 
ments therefore,  aided  by  some  additional  information 
collected  in  a  general  course  of  reading,  the  Editor  must 
rely,  whilst  he  endeavors  to  do  more  justice  than  has 
hitherto  been  done,  to  one  of  the  greatest  names  that  adorn 
our  annals. 

At  a  very  eventful  period,  when  the  political  horizon 
began  to  darken  with  those  storms  which  shook  the  foun- 
dation both  of  church  and  state,  this  great  man  was  born 
in  the  metropolis,  in  the  mouth  of  October,  1630.f  He 

*  Abraham  Hill,  Esq.  Dr.  Ward  added  some  new  details,  and 
corrected  some  errors  :  see  the  biography  of  Barrow,  in  his  Lives  of 
the  Professors  of  Gresham  College.  The  short  account  introduced 
by  Dr.  Pope  into  his  life  of  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury  is  to  be  received 
with  some  caution. 

1  This  is  Mr.  A.  Elill's  account.  Dr.  Pope  in  his  life  of  Seth, 
LomI  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  p.  129,  says  that  this  date  is  not  right; 
lor  he  had  often  heard  Dr.  Barrow  himself  say,  that  he  was  born  on 
the  29th  of  February,  which  could  not  be  in  1630,  that  not  being  a 
leap-year:  the  college  register  however  of  Peter  House,  where  he 
was  entered  as  annum  agens  clccimvm  qvartum,  shows  that  Mr.  Hill  is 
not  far  from  the  truth  at  any  rate.   See  Ward's  Lives,  p.  157. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


XI 


was  descended  from  worthy  parents  in  a  very  respectable 
station  of  life,  his  father  Thomas  Barrow  being  a  citizen 
of  London  in  good  repute,  and  his  uncle  Isaac  elevated  to 
the  episcopal  see  of  St.  Asaph.  His  grandfather,  Isaac 
Barrow,  Esq.  resided  at  Spiney  Abbey  in  Cambridgeshire, 
where  he  was  for  the  term  of  forty  years  in  the  commis- 
sion for  the  peace.  This  Tsaac  was  a  son  of  Philip 
Barrogh,  (for  the  name  is  differently  spelt,)  who  published 
"  A  Method  of  Physic,"  and  who  had  a  brother,  also  named 
Isaac,  a  doctor  in  medicine,  and  a  considerable  benefactor 
to  Trinity  College,  where  he  had  been  tutor  to  Robert 
Cecil,  Earl  of  Salisbury,  Lord  High  Treasurer  of  England. 

This  is  all  that  is  recorded  of  Barrow's  family  by  the 
father's  side :  his  mother  was  Ann,  daughter  of  William 
Buggin,  Esq.  of  North  Cray,  in  Kent,  of  whose  tender 
care  he  was  deprived  at  the  early  age  of  four  years.  His 
first  school  was  that  of  the  Charter  House,  where  he  con- 
tinued but  two  or  three  years,  and  made  very  little  pro- 
gress in  his  learning  ;  for  he  exhibited  no  precocity  of 
intellect,  no  docility  or  appetite  for  study,  but  rather  a 
great  fondness  for  games  and  sports,  especially  such  as 
produced  quarrels  and  fighting  amongst  his  schoolfellows. 
This  sort  of  conduct  gave  his  father  very  little  hope  that 
he  would  shine  in  the  profession  of  a  scholar,  for  which  he 
designed  him,  and  as  little  expectation  of  that  comfort  and 
satisfaction  which  he  afterwards  experienced  from  his  son's 
dutiful  and  pious  disposition  :  whence  he  often  expressed 
a  solemn  wish,  that  if  it  should  please  God  to  take  away 
any  of  his  children,  Isaac  might  be  the  one  selected. 
"So  vain  a  thing,"  says  Mr.  Hill,  "is  man's  judgment ; 
so  unfit  is  our  providence  to  guide  our  own  affairs."  In 
truth  we  should  always  be  cautious  before  we  condemn  or 


xii  BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 

neglect  a  youth,  on  account  of  the  early  errors  and  irre- 
gularities into  which  he  may  fall :  such  extravagances  are 
not  always  sure  indications  of  depravity ;  since  they  may 
arise  from  high  natural  endowments,  engrafted  on  an  ar- 
dent disposition  unimproved  or  misdirected  ;  they  should 
be  regarded  therefore  with  tender  solicitude,  and  subjected 
to  restraint  by  a  skilful  and  experienced  hand. 

His  father  took  the  best  preliminary  step  possible  to 
correct  young  Barrow's  propensities,  by  removing  him 
from  the  scenes  of  his  early  habits,  and  placing  him  at 
Felsted  in  Essex,  where  he  seems  to  have  met  with  an 
excellent  instructor  and  guide  ;*  and  it  proves  no  inconsi- 
derable knowlege  of  human  nature  in  the  master,  that, 
when  his  young  pupil's  good  qualities  and  great  abilities 
began  to  show  themselves,  he  appointed  him  to  be  a  little 
tutor,  (according  to  his  biographer's  expression,)  to  the 
Lord  Viscount  Fairfax  of  Emely  in  Ireland  :  yet  though 
all  inclination  to  quarrelling  was  thus  subdued  in  the  young 
man,  an  undaunted  courage,  both  physical  and  moral,  still 
remained  in  after-life;  of  which  some  instances  will  be 
recorded  hereafter,  and  one  may  find  a  place  here.  Being 
sparing  of  sleep  and  a  very  early  riser,  he  one  morning 
went  out  of  a  friend's  house  before  the  family  were  up, 
when  a  large  and  fierce  mastiff,  that  was  unchained  during 
the  night,  attacked  him  with  great  ferocity ;  Barrow 
however  caught  the  savage  animal  by  the  throat,  and  after 
a  long  struggle  bore  him  to  the  ground  :  there  whilst  he 
held  him,  he  considered  w  ith  himself  what  he  had  better 
do  in  the  exigency  of  the  case  :  once  he  had  a  mind  to 

*  I  am  informed  by  a  friend,  who  is  himself  a  distinguished  orna- 
ment of  Felsled  school,  that  Hie  name  of  this  master  was  Martin 
Holheach. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


All) 


kill  him,  but  soon  rejected  that  expedient,  thinking  it 
would  be  an  unjust  action,  as  the  dog  only  did  his  duty, 
and  he  himself  was  in  fault  for  rambling  out  of  his  lodging 
before  day-light.  At  length  he  called  out  so  loud  that  he 
awoke  the  people  of  the  house,  who  rose  and  parted  the 
combatants,  Barrow  having  suffered  no  hurt  beyond  the 
straining  of  his  wrists. 

During  his  residence  at  Felsted,  he  was  admitted  a 
pensioner  of  Peter  House,*  which  was  Bishop  Barrow's 
College  ;  but  when  he  was  fit  to  be  removed  to  the  Univer- 
sity in  February  1645,  his  destination  was  changed  to  the 
noble  foundation  of  Trinity,  his  uncle,  together  with  Mr. 
Seth  Ward,  Peter  Gunning,  and  John  Barwick,  having 
been  ejected  from  his  college  the  year  before,  for 
writing  against  the  Covenant.f  At  this  time  his  father 
was  with  the  king  at  Oxford,  having  suffered  so  much 
from  his  adherence  to  the  royal  cause,  that  he  could  not 
have  supported  his  son  at  college  without  assistance  from 
one  of  those  great  and  benevolent  characters  that  shed  a 
lustre  on  the  age  in  which  they  live.  The  generous  friend 
who  thus  held  out  the  hand  of  encouragement  to  our 
young  scholar  was  the  celebrated  Dr.  Henry  Hammond, 
himself  a  sufferer  in  the  cause  of  loyalty,  who  took  this 
method  of  restoring  sound  learning,  piety,  and  disci- 
pline, to  the  established  church.  At  the  death  of  that 
eminent  and  good  man  in  1660,  Barrow  testified  his  gra- 
titude in  an  epitaph  consecrated  to  his  memory,  which  I 
have  inserted  in  the  margin,  not  only  as  a  specimen  of  the 
exuberant  fertility  of  his  style  in  Latin  composition,  but 
because  it  has  been  thought  to  describe  with  great  accu- 

*  Dec.  15th,  1643. 

t  Life  of  Dr.  John  Barwick,  p.  36. 


xiv  BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 

racy  the  writer's  character,  as  well  as  that  of  his  friend.* 
The  time  of  his  undergraduateship  was  spent  in  the  dili- 

*  LEGE,  LUGE,  DISCE. 
Ne  le  pr*tergressum  poeniteat,  siste  pedem  hie  et  animum,  Viator. 
Etenim,  Hie  jacet  H.  Hammond,  S.  T.  D.  Theologorum  sui  sajculi 
coryphaeus.  Literatorum  princeps.  Anglic*  genfis  deens.  Ec- 
clesi*  columen.  Veritatis  assertor  peritissimus.  Pad's  culfor  de- 
votissimus.  Ordinis  fautor  studiosissimus.  Antiquitalis  genuin* 
fidissimus  intcrpres,  et  propugnator  acerrimus.  Sanctitatis  magis- 
ter  pr*stantissimus.  Omnibus  oinamentis  inslructissimus.  Philo- 
sophus  solide  acutus,  dilucide  subtilis.  Orator  inafiTectate  politus, 
nervose  copiosus.  Disputator  vehemens,  extra  acerbitafeni.  Egre- 
gius  criticus,  absque  superbia  tamen  aut  supereilio.  Lectionis  in- 
finit*  sed  exquisite  digest*.  Maximi  ingenii,  rnajoris  judicii,  con- 
summataR  eruditionis  cum  pari  modestia,  tantis  dotibus  usus  prae- 
clarissime.  De  ecclesia,  princi|)e,  patria  optime  meritus.  Utrius- 
que  tabulae  legum  praeco,  observator,  vindex.  Ecclesia?  Anglican* 
ensis  et  cljpeus;  quam  a  falsi  schismatis  labe  purgavit,  a  \eri  con- 
tagio  munivit ;  Romanis  hostibtis,  ct  perfugis  sectariis  fusis,  fugatis. 
Sincerae  doctrin*  radio  veteres  tenebras  pseudo  catholicas  dispu- 
lit,  nova  lamina  Anti-Catholica  extinxit.  Presbvteranam  parita- 
tem  prostravit.  Fanaticam  licentiam  coercuit.  Temporum  iniqoi- 
tatem  expugnavit  scriptis  victricibus,  patientia  tiiumphali.  Eccle- 
siastici  ordinis  jurisque  vindex  fortissimus,  ac  felicissimus.  Litur- 
gi*  patronus  consultissimus.  Theologicorum  doginatum  scrutator 
scdulus.  Difficultatum  enodator  accuratus.  Veritatum  explorator 
sagax.  Novum  Testamentum,  et  Psalterium  Davidicum,  lucu- 
lenta  paraphrasi,  eximio  commeutario,  sancto  exemplo  illnstravit. 
Calamo  scripsit,  vita  edidit  practicum  catechismum.  Christian* 
fortitudinis,  patienti*,  mansuetudiuis  illustre  exemplar.  Mentis 
insigni  prudentia,  invicta  constantia,  candore  illibato,  solertia  inde- 
fessa  mirabilis.  Morum  integrilate  spectabilis,  gravitate  venerabi- 
Jis,  comitate  amabilis.  Summa  pietate  in  Deum  ;  extrema  fide  in 
principem  ;  pi  opensa  charitate  in  omnes  conspicims.  Vir  scholas- 
ticus,  tlieologus,  plane  incomparabilis,  onini  epitheto  major,  quoli- 
bet  elogio  potior.    Meruit  haberi  martyr  assiduus  pro  ecclesia  cu- 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


XV 


gent  prosecution  of  his  studies ;  and  though  he  was  at  this 
important  period  of  his  life  emancipated  from  the  restraint 
of  paternal  admonition,  he  showed  that  he  needed  it  not, 
by  the  purity  of  his  conduct,  and  the  attention  which  he 
paid  to  his  religious  and  moral  duties. 

In  the  year  lt>43,  the  famous  Covenant  had  been  rati- 
fied between  England  and  Scotland  ;  which,  whilst  it  pre- 
tended to  secure  the  privileges  of  parliament,  the  liberties 
of  the  nation,  and  the  king's  authority,  openly  avowed  the 
overthrow  of  prelacy  and  of  the  established  church.  This 
covenant,  having  been  taken  by  the  members  of  both 
Houses,  was  inforced,  not  only  in  the  city  of  London  and 
many  other  parts  of  the  kingdom,  but  with  peculiar  rigor 
in  the  two  universities,  where  many  conscientious  indivi- 
duals, masters,  fellows,  and  students,  were  ejected  from 
their  several  stations  on  their  refusal  to  submit  to  its 
terms.  The  loyalty  of  Barrow  led  him  steadfastly  to 
rejeet  this  oath,  though  he  carried  himself  with  such  general 
fairness,  candor,  and  prudence,  that  he  gained  friends 
where  he  might  least  have  expected  them :  among  these 
was  Dr.  Hill,  Master  of  the  College,  who  had  been  ap- 
pointed by  the  parliament  in  the  place  of  Dr.  Comber, 
ejected  for  his  adherence  to  the  royal  cause.    This  gen- 


ris  et  vigiliis  confectus.  Occidit  diei  nostri  Lucifer  anno  1GGU  s;i- 
lutis  partae,  primo  Regis  restituti,  pallia;  liberata;,  ecclesiae  iristati- 
ratae;  quae  a  se  strenue  promota,  et  ardenter  conctipita  praesagiit 
animo,  sed  oculo  non  adspectavit,  in  hoc  felicissirne  infelix. — Vade. 
Cogita,  Imitare. 

Nec  magnum  tamen  Hammondum  satis  ulla  loquanttir 

Saxa,  nec  a  morsu  temporis  ulla  tegant. 
Clarius  ostcndit  scriptis  se  illustribus,  illo 
Digna  sui  tantum  sunt  monumenta  libri. 


XVI 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


tleman,  meeting  Barrow  one  day  in  the  court,  is  said  to 
have  laid  his  hand  on  his  head,  and  thus  to  have  addressed 
him  :  "  Thou  art  a  good  lad  ;  'tis  a  pity  thou  art  a  cava- 
lier." Also  at  another  time,  when  the  youth  had  made  a 
public  oration  on  the  anniversary  of  the  5th  of  November, 
and  had  celebrated  former  times  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
reflect  on  the  present,  the  Master  screened  him  from  the 
resentment  of  some  amongst  the  fellows,  who  were  pro- 
voked even  to  move  for  his  expulsion,  silencing  them  with 
a  striking  testimony  to  the  excellence  of  his  character;  and 
probably  not  without  some  misgiving  of  his  own  conscience  : 
"  Barrow,"  said  he,  "  is  a  better  man  than  any  of  us." 

A  few  years  afterwards  the  Engagement,  another  oath 
very  obnoxious  to  the  royalists,  was  instituted  by  the  pre- 
vailing party,  requiring  all  persons  to  profess  true  alle- 
giance to  the  government,  as  then  established  without 
King  or  House  of  Lords ;  whilst  they  who  refused  it  were 
declared  incapable  of  holding  any  office  in  church  or  state. 
Barrow  was  probably  induced  by  considerations  like  those, 
which  determined  Sir  Matthew  Hale  and  many  other  emi- 
nent conscientious  individuals,  to  acknowlege  an  unjust 
but  prevailing  power :  he  accordingly  signed  the  Engage- 
ment; but  soon  afterwards  repenting  of  what  he  had  done, 
he  went  back  to  the  commissioners,  declared  his  dissatis- 
faction, and  got  his  name  erased  from  the  list;  continu- 
ing ever  after,  amidst  all  the  tergiversations  of  party-men 
and  the  seductions  of  self-interest,  to  move  in  the  straitfor- 
ward  course  of  honor  and  loyalty.  In  1647  he  was  chosen 
a  scholar  of  the  house. 

With  respect  to  the  junior  members  of  the  college,  his 
contemporaries,  he  is  reported  to  have  been  very  ready  in 
giving  the  assistance  of  his  superior  talents  to  those  who 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


XVII 


needed  it;  though  in  return  for  many  exercises,  both  ii\ 
prose  and  verse,  he  never  received  any  recompense,  except 
one  pair  of  gloves.  The  same  disinterestedness  seems  to 
have  accompanied  him  through  life;  for  he  never  but 
twice  obtained  any  pecuniary  emolument  from  the  excel- 
lent and  laborious  sermons,  which  he  was  willing  to  deliver 
on  all  occasions. 

At  a  time  when  the  studies  of  our  universities  were 
confined  within  much  narrower  limits  than  at  present, 
when  the  intellectual  powers  were  cramped,  and  the  pro- 
gress of  knowlege  retarded,  by  the  remains  of  that  scho- 
lastic philosophy  which  neglected  experiment  for  hypo- 
thesis, and  dwelt  on  distinctions  of  matter,  form,  and  es- 
sence, too  nice  to  be  understood,  Barrow  set  a  worthy 
example  of  breaking  through  the  trammels  of  prejudice, 
into  the  regions  of  true  and  legitimate  science.  Disgusted 
with  what  was  falsely  called  the  Aristotelian  philosophy, 
he  turned  his  attention  to  the  writings  of  Lord  Bacon, 
Galileo,  Descartes,  and  other  great  writers  of  the  preced- 
ing age  ;  and  though  he  was  afterwards  obliged  to  reject 
some  notions  thence  obtained,*  yet  by  this  course  he  ac- 
quired general  habits  of  sound  reasoning,  and  enlightened 
views  on  the  subject  of  education.  Nor  did  he  cultivate 
the  abstruse  sciences  only  ;  for  he  exercised  his  powers  of 
imagination  by  poetry,  refined  his  taste  by  a  diligent  read- 
ing of  the  classic  authors,  improved  his  judgment  and  phi- 
losophy by  the  study  of  history,  ethics,  and  legislation, 
whilst  he  laid  the  foundation  of  those  eminent  theological 
acquirements,  which  crowned  his  labors,  as  they  have  se- 

*  la  his  Opuscula  is  a  long  Thesis  intitled,  "  Cartesiana  Hypo- 
thesis de  Materia  et  Motu  haud  satisfacit  pra:cipuis  Naturae  Phae- 
nomenis.   In  Comitiis  1652." 


xviii 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


cured  his  fame.  He  had,  as  was  said  of  another  extra- 
ordinary individual,  "that  general  curiosity,  to  which  no 
kind  of  knowlege  is  indifferent  or  superfluous :"  he  was 
aware  how  all  the  objects  of  human  intellect  combine  to- 
gether, and  what  mutual  light  is  shed  from  truth  to  truth  : 
he  knew  that  mental,  like  corporeal  vigor,  is  maintained 
and  increased  by  exercise;  and  that  a  superior  mind  is 
aided,  not  oppressed,  by  the  various  stores  of  literary  at- 
tainment :  above  all,  he  never  looked  on  his  studies  in 
the  light  of  a  selfish  amusement,  but  pursued  them  from 
the  highest  motives,  the  advancement  of  virtue,  and  the 
melioration  of  society. 

Such  appear  to  have  been  the  sentiments  and  pursuits 
of  Barrow  in  the  early  stages  of  his  academical  life  ;  nor 
to  these  did  he  ever  prove  false  in  his  future  brilliant 
career.  In  1648  he  took  the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Arts ; 
but  as  the  names  in  this  and  several  succeeding  years  are 
arranged,  in  the  University  Register,  according  to  colleges, 
without  any  regard  to  the  order  of  merit,  it  is  impossible 
to  determine  his  place  on  the  tripos  :  had  such  order  been 
then  established,  there  can  be  little  doubt  where  the  name 
of  Newton's  great  precursor  would  have  appeared.  The 
following  is  the  recorded  account  of  his  introduction  to 
mathematical  studies.  Reading  Scaliger  on  Eusebius,  he 
soon  perceived  the  dependence  of  chronology  on  astronomy: 
this  put  him  on  the  study  of  Ptolemy's  Almagest ;  but 
finding  that  book  and  all  astronomical  calculations  to  be 
founded  on  geometry,  he  applied  himself  to  Euclid's  Ele- 
ments, of  which  he  published  a  new  and  improved  edition : 
from  thence  he  proceeded  to  the  demonstration  of  the  other 
ancient  mathematicians,  having  as  an  associate  in  these 
invigorating  studies,  the  celebrated  naturalist  John  Ray,  a 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


xix 


man  of  the  same  honest  independent  spirit  as  himself,*  to 
whom  he  was  ever  afterwards  united  in  the  strictest  bonds 
of  friendship. 

It  would  be  gratifying  to  know  who  were  the  other  in- 
timate companions  of  his  youth  ;  but  we  are  informed  by 
his  biographer  that  he  had  few,  except  in  his  own  college  : 
of  this  we  may  be  certain,  that  none  but  the  studious  and 
the  good  were  the  associates  of  Isaac  Barrow.  There 
can  be  little  doubt  but  that  his  friendship  with  the  learned 
and  amiable  Tillotson,  at  this  time  a  student  of  Clare 
Hall,  was  thus  early  formed,  as  well  as  that  with  Abraham 
Hill,  one  of  his  executors,  and  his  brief  biographer;  and 
though  the  intimacy  was  of  a  later  date,  and  Barrow  ap- 
pears in  the  light  of  a  patron  as  well  as  that  of  a  friend,  we 
may  perhaps  insert  in  this  list  the  name  of  him  who  stands 
highest  in  the  annals  of  scientific  fame,  the  immortal  New- 
ton. Such  was  Barrow's  regard  for  that  great  man,  that  he 
not  only  fostered  and  encouraged  bis  rising  genius,  but  by  his 
disinterested  generosity  gave  occasion  for  the  display  of  his 
matured  excellence,  when  he  resigned  to  him  the  mathe- 
matical chair  in  1(^9.  Yet  such  was  his  impartiality,  that 
when,  as  Master  of  the  College,  he  had  to  decide  on  the 
merits  of  Newton  and  Mr.  Robert  Uvedale,  who  were 
candidates  for  a  lay-fellowship,  he  preferred  Mr.  Uve- 
dale as  senior  of  the  two,  when  he  found  them  equal  in  lite- 
rary attainments.f 


*  In  1662,  Ray,  being  unwilling  to  comply  with  the  act  of  uni- 
formity, resigned  his  fellowship,  though  the  college  strongly  urged 
him  to  retain  it.  Barrow  was  a  decided,  conscientious,  orthodox 
member  of  the  establishment;  but  this  difference  of  principles 
created  no  other  difference  between  those  great  and  good  men. 

t  Hutcltins's  Dorsetshire,  vol.  ii.  p.  504.  2nd  edit. 


XX 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


When  the  time  came  that  Barrow  could  be  chosen 
fellow,  he  obtained  that  distinction  solely  by  his  great 
merit;  since  nothing-  else  could  have  recommended  him 
to  his  ei>  ;  tors,  whose  political  opinions  were  generally  ad- 
verse to  his  own  :  his  case  affords  but  an  example  of  that 
strict  impartiality  which  seems  ever  to  have  distinguished 
the  rulers  of  this  noble  college,  when  left  to  the  free  ex- 
ercise of  their  elective  rights.  In  1651  he  commenced 
Master  of  Arts;  and  from  a  Latin  speech  preserved  in  his 
Opnscola,  it  appears  that  he  executed  the  office  of  Mode- 
rator that  same  year.*  In  the  speech  alluded  to,  which 
is  a  very  remarkable  specimen  of  mature  judgment,  as  well 
as  of  various  and  extensive  scholarship,  in  so  young  a 
man,  iu;  gives  many  admirable  instructions  both  to  young 
and  ol  !  .  indignantly  reprehends  the  vices  and  follies  of  a 
dissolulc  :ige ;  indicates  the  best  remedies;  and  recom- 
mends the  noblest  objects  of  study;  but  in  particular  he 
inveighs  \ith  caustic  severity  against  that  licentiousness 
which,  in  the  place  of  wit,  seems  to  have  tainted  the 
speecbt  of  his  predecessors  in  the  schools;  insomuch  that 
custom  d(  nanded  of  him  to  undertake,  as  it  were,  the 
combined  character  of  Ulysses  and  Thersites,  of  Demo- 
critus  and  Heraclitns;  or  on  the  same  stage  to  act  the 
part  of  Cato  and  of  Roscius.  Barrow  however,  after  a 
severe  objurgation  of  his  audience,  who  stood  gaping  for 
their  accustomed  jests,  refuses  to  become  a  buffoon  for 
their  amusement,  or  a  pandar  to  their  depraved  taste; 

*  The  title  of  this  speech  is  "  Oratio  Modla:  in  Auspiciis  termini 
Apr.  30,  1651."  In  this  case  he  must  have  been  Moderator  immedi- 
ately after  be  had  incepted,  and  hefore  he  was  created  M.A.  or  he 
was  created  by  a  special  jracc,  which  was  not  an  uncommon  thing 
in  those  days. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


xxi 


whilst  with  great  naivete  and  candor  he  professes  himself 
ready  to  indulge  in  that  cheerful  festive  humor  which 
made  him  the  delight  and  ornament  of  society.  Mud  si 
verum  sit,  quod  fama  loquitur,  stomachos  vestros  solidi 
omnis  cibi  pertasos,  et  dapium  Rhetoricarum  nauseam, 
et  salubrioris  Philosophic  gravedinem  usque  adeo  inva- 
sisse,  ut  prater  futilia  queedam  bellaria,  et  putidissirna 
nugarum  fercula  palato  vestro  nihil  sapiat ;  nt  ipsa  sa- 
pientia,  nisi  insipida,  neque  Veritas,  nisi  jocis  condita, 
neque  ratio,  nisi  ridiculo  tincta ;  mala  profeclo  sorte  ego 
vobis  coquus  sum  datus,  ad  ilium  inaniiim  deliciarum 
apparatum  neque  ingenio  factus,  neque  studio  insti- 
tutus  Innocentes  jocos,  tempestivos  sales,  libe- 
rates facetias,  (ita  me  Musa  omnes  et  Gratia  ament ) 
nemo  est  usquam  qui  me  sincerius  diligat,  nemo  qui  te- 
tricam  Mam  et  inanem  plerumque  austeritatem  vehemen- 
tius  detestetur* 

About  this  time  he  seems  to  have  applied  himself  with 
considerable  diligence  to  Latin  versification ;  but  the 
subjects  selected  for  the  exercise  of  his  muse  were,  ac- 
cording to  the  taste  of  the  age,  better  adapted  to  scholas- 
tic disputation  than  to  the  divine  art  of  poesy.f  Con- 
ceiving also  that  the  times  were  unpropitious  to  men  of  his 
opinion  in  the  affairs  of  church  and  state,  he  designed  to 
follow  the  profession  of  medicine ;  accordingly  for  some 
years  he  bent  the  course  of  his  studies  that  way,  making 
great  progress  in  the  sciences  of  botany,  chemistry,  and 
anatomy.  But  after  mature  deliberation  with  himself,  and 
frequent  conference  with  his  worthy  uncle  the  Bishop  of  St. 
Asaph,  he  determined  to  make  divinity  the  end  and  aim 


*  Opuscula,  p.  136. 

t  See  his  Opuscula,  pp.  248—267. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


of  all  his  labors;  conceiving  himself  bound  to  this  by  the 
oath  which  he  had  taken  when  elected  to  a  fellowship. 
Henceforward  he  never  lost  sight  of  this  principle  of 
action;  and  whether  he  dwelt  with  congenial  spirits  in  the 
Academic  groves,  or  with  the  barbaric  spoilers  of  the  By- 
zantine throne,  we  find  him  still  engaged  in  theological 
inquiries,  and  imbibing  sacred  eloquence  from  the  works 
of  departed  sages. 

With  regard  to  the  character  which  he  established  for 
himself  amongst  his  contemporaries,  nothing  more  amia- 
ble can  well  be  imagined.  He  seems  to  have  had  no  ene- 
mies:  all  respected  his  manly  independence ;  admired  his 
integrity  and  urbanity;  enjoyed  the  sunshine  of  his  bene- 
volent temper,  and  the  enlivening  eloquence  of  his  dis- 
course;  whilst  they  were  improved  by  the  facility  with 
which  he  communicated  to  them  the  riches  of  his  well- 
stored  mind,  and  by  the  instructive  comments  which  he 
used  to  make,  as  well  on  the  importance  as  on  the  truth  of 
questions  under  discussion.*  This  combination  of  amiable 
and  exalted  qualities  was  the  talisman  which  preserved  him 
safe  in  all  the  conflicts  of  those  disordered  times;  which 
rendered  him  beloved  by  all  his  associates  whilst  he  was 
their  equal,  and  unenvied  when  he  became  their  superior. 

Barrow's  tutor  during  his  undergraduateship  had  been 
the  celebrated  Dr.  Duport,  Greek  professor,  and  after- 
wards Dean  of  Peterborough  ;  who,  as  one  of  his  learned 
successors  in  both  these  pieces  of  preferment,  has  well  ob- 
served.f  appears  to  have  been  the  main  instrument  by  which 
literature  was  upheld  in  the  seventeenth  century  ;  and  who, 

*  See  his  biography  by  Mr.  A.  Hill.  Works  vol.  i.  fol.  edit, 
t  Dr.  Monk,  now  Bishop  of  Glocester.    See  his  Memoir  of 
Duport  in  the  Alu.seum  Criticum,  vol.  ii,  p.  672. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


XXllI 


though  seldom  named  and  little  known  at  present,  en- 
joyed an  almost  transcendent  reputation  for  a  great  length 
of  time  amongst  his  contemporaries,  as  well  as  in  the  gene- 
ration which  immediately  succeeded.  This  eminent  scho- 
lar, though  ejected  from  his  prebendal  stall  at  Lincoln, 
and  his  archdeaconry  of  Stowe,  for  refusing  the  Covenant, 
was  yet  suffered  to  retain  his  professorship,  the  duties  of 
which  he  continued  to  discharge  before  a  large  audience 
during  all  the  troubles  and  commotions  of  the  civil  war  : 
but  even  this  piece  of  well-merited  preferment  was  taken 
from  him  in  1654  by  the  commissioners  of  University 
reform,  who  rejected  from  all  offices,  at  discretion,  such 
members  as  refused  subscription  to  the  Engagement. 
According  to  Mr.  A.  Hill's  account,  Duport  resigned  the 
professorial  chair,  and  recommended  his  favorite  pupil 
Barrow  for  his  successor,  who  justified  his  tutor's  good 
opinion  of  him  by  a  very  able  probationary  exercise,  though 
he  failed  of  success,  through  an  opinion  among  the  electors 
that  he  was  inclined  to  Arminianism.  It  is  stated  however 
on  better  authority,*  that  the  commissioners  themselves 
conferred  the  office  on  Ralph  Widdrington,  fellow  of 
Christ's  College, f  whose  literary  merits  would  probably 
not  have  had  so  much  weight  with  those  worthies,  as  his 
relationship  to  Sir  Thomas  Widdrington,  Commissioner  of 
the  Great  Seal,  and  Speaker  of  Cromwell's  Parliament. 

Disappointed  in  this  object  of  honorable  ambition,  and 
wishing  to  escape  from  the  fanaticism  which  reigned  in  his 
own  country,  Barro-w  projected  a  scheme  of  foreign  travel ; 
nor  can  we  wonder  that  a  person  with  so  cultivated  a 

*  .Memoir  of  Dupoi  t  in  Mus.  Crit.  vol.  ii.  p.  680. 
t  Ho  ba<i  been  appointed  ii)  a  .similar  manner  Public  Orator  three 
years  previous  to  this  event. 


xxiv  BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 

mind  should  be  anxious  to  improve  his  knowlege  of  books 
by  experience  of  the  world  ;  or  that  he  should  pant  to 
survey  the  triumphs  of  modern  art,  and  to  traverse  those 
delightful  scenes  where  the  Spirit  of  antiquity  still  seems 
to  linger. 

Accordingly  in  the  month  of  June*  1655,  after  having 
sold  his  books  to  provide  means  for  his  voyage,  he  left 
England,  and  proceeded  in  the  first  instance  to  Paris  : 
there  he  found  his  father,  at  the  court  of  his  exiled  sover- 
eign, and  made  him  a  seasonable  present  out  of  his  slender 
viaticum.  Soon  after  his  arrival  he  dispatched  a  long 
letter  to  his  college.f  in  which  he  gives  an  amusing  and 
instructive  account  of  his  journey,  as  well  as  of  those 
objects  which  particularly  interested  him  in  the  French 
capital. 

After  a  poetical  though  somewhat  confused  exordium, 
he  prays  that  the  Goddess  of  Health  may  wing  her  flight  to 
his  beloved  Alma  Mater,  in  some  flowing  lines,  which 
contain  a  curious  compliment  to  the  sedgy  Cam,  as  well  as 
to  the  regal  Seine.  % 

The  vessel  in  which  he  left  his  native  shores  seems  to 
have  been  scarcely  sea-worthy ;  a  wretched  bark,  more 
like  a  witch's  sieve  than  an  English  packet. 

*  See  Ward's  Lives  of  the  Gresham  Professors,  p.  168. 
^  It  is  a  Latin  letter,  the  first  part  written  in  hexameters,  the 
second  in  prose  :  he  calls  it  '  Epistolae  intntrpov  pariter  ac  afihpou 
quoddam  rudimentum.' 

I  Ad  doctos  pontes,  tumidis  guos  alluit  actr 
Camus  aquis  ;  Camus,  quo  non  dilectior  alter 
Rivulus  Aonides  conspergit  rore  puellas, 
(Nec  veteres  olim  qui  praeterfluxit  Atbenas, 
Nec  qui  Parisiis  prtsbet  mudo  balnea  Musis,') 
Carpat  iter. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


XXV 


— Thesea  puppis  rugosior,  Argus 
Quae  numerare  annos,  Argique  foramina  posset; 
Ignibus  cxponi  quam  sa?vis  dignior  undis. 

Accordingly  old  Nereus,  in  pity  or  contempt,  indulges  the 
crew  with  a  calm,  which  operates  with  terrible  effect  on 
the  stomach  of  our  fresh-water  sailor;  though  he  revives 
at  sight  of  the  lofty  cliffs  of  Normandy,  iu  which  fine 
province  he  first  sets  foot  on  a  foreign  soil. 

The  vessel  enters  that  port,  into  which,  as  Barrow  ob- 
serves, the  great  Henry  IV.  ran  his  bark  when  almost  ship- 
wrecked in  the  waves  of  political  commotion ;  alluding  to 
that  great  monarch's  flight  to  Dieppe,  as  a  last  place  of 
refuge  in  1589,  when  he  won  the  hearts  of  its  citizens  by 
his  frank  and  manly  address  to  them  : — "  Mes  amis,  point  de 
ceremonie ;  je  ne  demande  que  vos  cceurs,  bon  pain,  bon  vin, 
et  bon  visage  d'hotes."  Nor  was  it  long  before  he  who  came 
a  suppliant  returned  a  conqueror,  having  gloriously  de- 
feated the  army  of  the  League,  in  the  plain  of  Arques, 
when  its  commander  the  Duke  de  Mayenne  retreated 
from  forces  ten  times  less  than  his  own  in  numerical 
strength.*  Henry  then  rebuilt  the  castle  of  Dieppe,  and 
conferred  honorable  titles  on  the  city — parvam  titulis 
Diepam  regalibus  auxit. 

When  our  traveller  lands,  he  is  astonished  at  the  crowd 
of  women  in  the  streets,  and  supposes  that  Henry,  who 
was  a  great  lover  of  the  sex,  was  not  unwilling  to  trust  his 
fortune  to  such   partisans:   he  notices,  however,  their 

*  Henry's  speech  before  this  battle  to  his  prisoner  the  Count  de 
Belin,  when  asked  by  the  latter  how  he  could  hope  to  resist  >o 
powerful  an  army  with  so  small  a  force,  is  very  characteristic  of  him. 
"  Ajoutez  aux  troupes  que  vous  voyez,  mon  bon  droit,  et  vous  ne 
douterez  plus  de  quel  cote  sera  la  victoire." 


xxvi 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


general  want  of  beauty,*  as  well  as  their  very  irascible 
disposition ;  which  is  not  at  all  surprising,  since  the  fish- 
market  of  Dieppe  rivals  our  Billingsgate,  and  the  nymphs 
of  such  districts  claim  a  right,  from  time  immemorial,  to 
the  free  exercise  of  temper  and  tongue.  The  French 
ladies  however  seem  to  have  been  at  this  time  desirous  of 
extending  their  privileges;  for  he  is  witness  of  a  desperate 
attack  which  they  made  on  the  hotel  of  the  unfortunate 
collector  of  customs,  after  having  loaded  their  aprons  on 
the  beach  with  weapons  such  as  those  which  Telamonian 
Ajax  hurled  at  his  antagonist  Hector. 

Dieppe  does  not  present  now  the  same  features  which 
Barrow  saw  and  admired  ;  for  it  was  utterly  destroyed  by 
the  English  in  the  memorable  bombardment  of  1694,  with 
the  exception  of  the  fine  church  of  St.  Jacques,  that  of 
St.  Remi,  and  the  castle,  which  stands  on  an  eminence  at 
the  western  extremity  of  the  town.  The  adjacent  country, 
however,  does  not  seem  to  have  changed  its  appearance, 
since  our  traveller  described  its  broad  roads  and  fertile 
fields,  with  rows  of  apple-trees  for  lines  of  demarcation, 
the  ruddy  color  of  whose  pendulous  fruit  inflames  the 
bosom  and  invites  the  hand  of  the  passenger. — Ha  sata 
pracingimt,  ha  compita  cuncta  corona. 

After  curiously  describing  the  turning-lathe,  he  adverts 
to  that  exquisite  manufacture  in  ivory  for  which  the  place 
is  still  celebrated,  and  which  owes  its  origin  to  the  first 
Christian  settlement  on  the  coast  of  Senegal,  which  was  made 
by  the  mariners  of  Dieppe.f    Numidicum  vertunt  ebur  in 


*  Sed  (|uum  mille  vides,  non  est  gpectabilis  UDa. 
t  It  was  possibly  (says  Dr.  Dibdin  in  his  very  amusing  tour)  under 
the  bold  excursion  of  such  distinguished  navigators  aud  captains  as 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


XXVll 


miracula  rerun.  Thence  he  digresses  to  the  numerous 
monastic  orders,  whom  he  lashes  with  great  severity  of 
sarcasm. 

Going  to  St.  Jacques,  he  finds  all  his  bile  moved  by  the 
absurdities  of  the  popish  mass,  by  the  decorations  of  the 
altars,  by  the  vestments  of  the  priests,  and  by  the  frauds  of 
superstition  practised  in  the  nineteen  little  chapels,  which 
stand  round  the  body  of  that  church,  "  as  chickens  surround 
the  mother  hen."  He  is  horrified  at  the  degrading  mum- 
meries and  pageants  exhibited  in  the  religious  festivals  ; 
but  his  fiercest  anger  is  poured  out  against  the  idolatrous 
act  of  transubstantiation  ;  and  probably  the  idea  then  first 
entered  his  mind  of  writing  that  treatise  against  papal 
supremacy,  which  is  sufficient  to  carry  his  name  down 
to  the  latest  posterity.  In  the  mean  time  he  gives  vent  to 
his  indignation  in  the  following  lines  : 

Quod  nisi  jam  tantis  reverentia  dcbita  rebus 
Injiceret  Alusaj  taciturni  fraena  pudoris, 
Porrigit  immcnsum  justa  indignatio  campum, 
Quo  tumidum  pectus  conceptas  explicet  iras  ; 
Quum  reputat  quali  male  sanus  fronte  sacerdos 
Mirifico  tribns  evnlgatis  ore  susnrris 
Se  jactat  fecisse  Deum,  factumque  vorasse. 


PARMENTIER,  Dusmesnil,  and  the  great  merchant  Ango,  in  the 
16lli  and  17th  centuries,  that  the  ivory  trade  attained  its  highest 
pitch  of  prosperity.  The  establishments  of  the  Dieppois  in  Guinea 
necessarily  facilitated  the  means  of  improving  this  branch  of  com- 
merce. Walpole  in  his  Aneed.  of  Painting,  v.  iii.  p.  262,  makes 
honorable  mention  of  Le  Marchand,  a  native  of  Dieppe,  who  worked 
very  successfully  for  several  years  in  London.  Evelyn,  who  visited 
Dieppe  in  1644,  observes  that  it  then  "abounded  with  workmen 
who  made  and  sold  curiosities  of  ivory  and  tortoise-shell,  and  what- 
ever the  East  Indies  afforded  for  cabinets  and  purcelan,  &c." — Bib- 
liographical Tour,  v.  i.  p.  18. 


xxviii 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


On  his  journey  towards  Rouen  he  dilates  on  the  excel- 
lence and  cheapness  of  the  Norman  cider ;  nor  does  he  for- 
get to  indulge  in  reflexions  on  the  romantic  history  of  Wil- 
liam the  Conqueror,  who  breathed  his  last  in  this  splendid 
and  populous  capital  of  the  province  : 

 sed  ejus 

Abrupit  stamen  medium  objice  villa  superbo 
Illustris  quam  tota  vocat  provincia  matrem  : 
Magna  satis,  tectis  pulchra,  instructissima  vitas 
Subsidiis,  populi  locuples,  uberrima  gazis, 
Quels  dives  tellus,  queis  ditius  affluit  aeqnor  ; 
Quas  ibi  per  Sequanae  vicina  volumina  Nereus 
Deponit,  dulcisque  tributa  remunerat  undae. 

Indeed,  he  must  be  a  dull  traveller  who  can  behold  with- 
out emotion  the  magnificent  approach  to  this  noble  city, 
lying,  with  its  rich  Gothic  towers  and  spires,  embosomed 
in  picturesque  hills,  and  smiling  over  its  broad  and  tributary 
stream. 

Our  traveller's  attention  is  first  directed  to  the  ruins  of 
a  magnificent  stone  bridge,  (once  consisting  of  thirteen 
arches,  built  by  the  Empress  Maud,  daughter  of  Henry 
I.  king  of  England  ;)  and  next  to  its  ingeniously-con- 
structed substitute  of  massive  timber,  placed  over  nineteen 
barges,  the  undulatory  motion  of  which,  and  its  rise  or  fall 
with  the  tide  are  thus  described  : 

 quern  non  excisi  cautibus  orbes 

Sustentant,  curvis  nec  ligneus  ordo  columnis 
Subjicitur  stabili  fundamine  ;  puppibus  omnis 
Incumbit,  variisque  incerla;  legibus  undae 
Obsequitur;  nunc  elatus  torrente  superbo 
Assurgit,  mox  deprimitur  cum  gurgite  manco  :  &c. 

Leaving  the  banks  of  the  Seine,  he  enters  the  pictu- 
resque old  town  which  even  now  carries  the  traveller  back, 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


xxix 


and  places  him  amongst  the  habitations  of  men  who  existed 
in  the  sixteenth  century,  unprofaned  by  modern  improve- 
ments. 

Here  his  eye  is  attracted  by  the  splendid  mansions  of  the 
archbishop  and  the  nobility  ;  by  the  fine  market-place,  lau- 
titiasque  fori  grandes  luxusque  macelli ;  and  by  that  curi- 
ous specimen  of  Gothic  architecture,  which  holds  a  middle 
station  between  ecclesiastic  and  domestic,  the  far-famed 
Palais  de  Justice,  Heylin,  who  also  saw  the  building  in 
perfection,  thus  describes  its  grand  hall :  "  it  is  so  gallantly 
and  richly  built,  that  I  must  needs  confess  it  surpasseth  all 
that  ever  I  saw  in  my  life.  The  palace  of  the  Louvre  hath 
nothing  in  it  comparable ;  the  ceiling  is  all  inlaid  with 
gold,  yet  doth  the  workmanship  exceed  the  matter :"  and 
Barrow's  account  corresponds  with  the  foregoing,  when  he 
speaks  of  the 

praeclara  palatia  Legum, 
Coelatas  auro  cameras,  serpentia  muris 
Lilia,  qua  vario  celebratur  curia  coetu. 

From  hence  he  proceeds  to  the  churches,  amongst  which 
that  glory  of  Gothic  architecture,  St.  Ouen,*  stands  pre- 
eminent, though  he  leaves  it  undescribed,  attracted  by  the 

*  The  lightness,  the  elegance,  the  beautiful  proportions,  and  the 
appropriate  ornaments,  of  this  church  are,  as  far  as  my  experience 
goes,  quite  unrivalled.  To  omit  its  magnificent  rose-windows,  its 
airy  columns,  and  its  finely-vaulted  roof,  it  has  one  feature  peculiar 
to  itself,  which  covers  the  architect  with  glory.  I  allude  to  the  fine 
open  gallery  which  runs  round  the  whole  church,  nave  transepts 
and  choir,  in  place  of  a  triforium,  and  which  allows  an  unusual  al- 
titude to  the  noble  windows,  whose  painted  glass  is  seen  through 
the  tracery.  The  length  of  this  church  in  French  feet  is  416;  that 
of  the  transepts  130:  its  breadtli  is  78,  and  the  height  of  the  vaulted 
roof  100.    The  central  tower  is  240  feet  high. 


XXX 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


superior  external  magnificence  of  the  cathedral  and  its 
ambitious  spire,  which  will  not  suffer  itself  to  be  so  neg- 
lected : — 

—  nec  de  se  sinit  ambitiosa  taceri 
Qua?  sola  ex  tribns  a  trunco  surgeutibus  uno 
Eminet,  alquc  impellit  acuta  cuspide  nubes.* 

In  describing  the  ornaments  and  fine  monuments  in  this 
edifice,  he  falls  into  the  common  error  of  supposing  most 
of  them  to  have  been  executed  whilst  the  English  had  pos- 
session of  the  province ;  and  when  he  notices  this  as  the 
burial-place  of  the  Regent  Duke  of  Bedford,  who  must  be 
consigned  to  eternal  infamy  as  the  base  murderer  of  the 
heroic  Joan  of  Arc,  he  notices  also  the  high-minded 
answer  of  Louis  XI.  who,  when  he  was  counselled  by 
envious  persons  to  deface  the  tomb  of  his  antagonist,  used 

*  This  lower,  which  tell  a  few  years  since  by  a  conflagration,  was 
380  French  feet  in  height.  The  length  of  the  cathedral  is  408  feet, 
its  breadth  83,  and  the  height  of  its  vaulted  roof  84.  Its  great  w  es- 
tern front  is  perhaps  the  most  gorgeous  facade  that  any  church  pos- 
sesses, uniting  vastness  and  variety  of  outline,  with  richness  of 
ornament,  and  picturesque  effect,  to  a  marvellous  degree  :  its  highest 
point  of  elevation  is  about  250  feet,  and  its  breadth  180:  ils  two 
flanking  towers  are  noble  structures,  particularly  that  at  the  S.W. 
corner,  which  almost  rivals  the  central  tower  of  St.  Ouen  in  height 
and  richness  of  decoration :  it  is  sometimes  called  the  tour  de 
lieurre,  from  the  impost  on  that  article  granted  for  its  erection,  or 
tour  d'Amboise,  from  the  distinguished  prelate  under  whom  it  w  as 
begun  and  finished,  and  who  placed  therein  his  enormous  bell:  the 
three  deep  porches  and  pediments  of  this  facade  are  filled  with  in- 
numerable statues  of  popes,  emperors,  kiugs,  cardinals,  bishops, 
&c.  Probably  the  north  and  south  porches  of  this  cathedral  are 
equally  unrivalled  ;  but  its  interior  is  as  inferior  to  that  of  St.  Oucn 
as  St.  Paul's  is  to  St.  Peter's. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


xxxi 


these  princely  words  :  "  What  honor  shall  it  be  for  us,  or 
you,  to  break  this  monument,  and  to  pull  out  of  the  ground 
the  bones  of  him,  whom  in  his  life-time  neither  my  father 
nor  his  progenitors,  with  all  their  puissance,  were  once 
able  to  make  fly  a  foot  backward  ?  who  by  his  strength, 
policy,  and  wit,  kept  them  all  out  of  the  principal  domi- 
nions of  France,  and  out  of  this  noble  duchy  of  Normandy  ? 
Wherefore  I  say  first,  God  save,  his  soul!  and  let  his  body 
now  lie  in  rest,  which,  when  he  was  alive,  could  have  dis- 
quieted the  proudest  of  us  all.  And  for  this  tomb,  I 
assure  you  it  is  not  so  worthy  or  convenient  as  his  honor 
and  acts  have  deserved."* 

Herois  monumenta  rapi,  manesque  lacessi 
Tranquillos  (magnis  terrentur  scilicet  umbris 
Degeneris  animae)  vana  exoptantibns  ira, 
Rex  eliam  f'ato  oppressae  virtutis  amicus 
Abnuit,  et  qui  se  potuit  defendere  vivus, 
Judice  me,  dixit,  meruit  post  fata  quietem. 

Yet  the  tomb,  after  all,  had  disappeared,  and  Barrow 
was  disappointed  in  his  search  for  it: — lumulum  spes  irrita 
qu&rit.  He  was  not  aware  that  the  French  Calvinists,  who 
were  quite  as  malignant  as  the  English  Puritans,  destroyed 
it  in  their  merciless  attacks  on  ecclesiastical  architecture 

*  Sandford,  Ed.  1707.  p.  315.  "Tbere  is  a  curious  chapter,"  says 
Dr.  Dibdin,  "  in  Pommeraye's '  Histoire  de  PEglise  Catli.  de  Rouen,' 
p.  203,  respecting  this  duke's  taking  the  habit  of  a  canon  of  the 
cathedral,  attending  with  his  first  wife,  Anne  of  Burgundy,  and 
throwing  himself  on  the  liberality  and  kindness  of  the  monks,  to  be 
received  by  them  as  one  of  their  order."  This  almost  matches  the 
act  of  Lady  Margaret  foundress  of  St.  John's  Coll.  Camb.,  who 
made  herself  a  vestal,  and  took  the  vows,  in  her  old  age,  and  after 
having  had  three  husbands. 


xxxu 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


in  the  sixteenth  century,  when,  besides  other  atrocities, 
they  disinterred  the  bodies  of  St.  Ouen,  St.  Nicaise,  and 
St.  Remi,  burned  them  in  the  very  church,  and  scattered 
their  ashes  to  the  winds. 

But  though  Barrow  is  unable  to  discover  the  sepulcre 
of  his  countryman,*  he  sees  and  describes  with  admiration 
the  sumptuous  monument  erected  to  the  great  minister 
Cardinal  d'Amboise,  by  his  nephew,  who  succeeded  him  in 
the  archbishopric  of  Rouen.  The  labor  of  seven  years  was 
expended  on  this  superb  work  ; 

Qua  merito  minor  Ambosius  sul>  marmore  clausus 

Conspicuo  perituri  oblivia  nominis  arcet. 

Marmora  quid  loquor  ?  hunc  resonabit  buccina  major, 

Et  spisso  clamorc  per  aethera  differet  altnm 

Immani  vocis  certamine  Georgius  ingens  : 

Cujus  in  cloquium  si  vastam  impellere  molem 

Vis  bominum  posset,  Gangetidis  incola  ripae 

Ultimas  audiret  perculsa  menle  sonantem  ; 

Exaudiret  lotus  et  obsurdesceret  orbis  : 

Concussas  notare  domos,  fragilesque  fenestras 

Dissultare,  feros  flaius  regnare  videres. 

Is  posset  clamor  cunctas  perrumpere  sphseras,  &c. 


*  On  a  lozenge  behind  the  altar  is  the  following  inscription  : 
AD  DEXTRUM  ALTARIS  LATUS 
JACET 

JOHANNES  DUX  BEDFORDI 
NOR.MANNLE  PROREX 
OBIIT  ANNO 
MCCCCXXXV. 
In  a  chapel  of  this  cathedral  is  the  tomb  of  Rollo,  first  duke  of 
Normandy,  and  in  one  opposite  is  that  of  his  son  William  Long- 
sword  :  the  effigies  of  both  are  still  preserved.    The  tombs  that 
once  adorned  the  choir,  those  of  Charles  V.  of  France,  of  Richard 
Coeur-de-Lion  (whose  heart  was  buried  here),  and  of  William  son 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


XXXlll 


Few  readers  probably  would  guess  the  instrument  which 
Barrow  here  declares  so  fit  to  carry  the  fame  of  his  hero 
over  all  the  realms  of  earth  and  air :  be  it  then  known 
that  in  these  sonorous  verses  he  alludes  to  an  enormous 
bell,  the  largest  ever  suspended  in  frame-work,  with  which 
the  Cardinal  adorned  his  tower,  and  which  was  called  after 
its  donor's  name,  Georges  d'Amboise,  like  our  Tom  of 
Lincoln.  It  was  cast  in  1501  by  one  Jean  le  Masson, 
who  is  said  to  have  died  with  joy  at  his  success  in  the 
attempt,  not  living  to  hear  its  sound  when  it  was  first 
swung  in  1502  by  sixteen  sturdy  ringers.*  Its  diameter 
at  the  base  was  30  feet,  and  its  weight  33,000  pounds ; 
that  of  its  clapper  being  1838  pounds,  which  occasioned  its 
fracture,  when  it  was  rung  in  1786  on  the  occasion  of  Louis 
XVIth's  paying  a  visit  to  Rouen.f 

Quitting  with  reluctance  this  monster  of  sound,  which 
he  has  celebrated  in  notes  deep-mouthed  as  its  own,  our 
traveller  resumes  his  journey  along  the  beautiful  banks  of 
the  Seine,  studded  with  woody  isles,  in  the  direction  of 
Paris.  As  he  proceeds  southward,  he  remarks,  what  is 
still  observable,  the  appearance  and  gradual  increase  of 
vines,  succeeding  to  the  apple-trees  of  Lower  Normandy. 

of  Geoffrey  Plantagenet,  were  removed  in  1736,  as  interfering  with 
the  works  then  going  forward:  they  have  since  been  destroyed; 
but  there  still  remains  a  beautiful  monument  erected  to  the  Duke 
de  Breze,  grand  Seneschal  of  Normandy,  by  his  celebrated  but 
faithless  spouse,  Diana  of  Poitiers. 
*  Pommeraye,  p.  50. 

+  This  clapper  is  said  to  be  still  preserved  ;  but  the  bell  itself 
was  taken  down  at  the  Revolution,  and  melted  for  the  purpose  of 
casting  cannon. 


BAR. 


VOL.  I. 


C 


xxxiv 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


Sic  dum  pomiferis  celeres  excedimus  arvis, 
Persequimurque  diem  medium,  fontesque  caloruro, 
Obrepit  Bacchus  sensim,  parceque  trementes 
Exerit  in  limbos  inimici  frig-oris  nlnas: 
Mox  tepidi  afllafu  factus  fidentior  Austri 
Deusius  objec(at  vineta  feracia  :  &c. 

When  he  enters  the  Elvsian  valley  of  Montmorency, 
whose  fields  glow  with  the  ruddy  purple  of  the  cherry, 
added  to  that  of  the  grape,  Paris,  the  present 'goal  of  his 
desires,  opens  to  view,  and  he  abruptly  closes  the  poetical 
part  of  this  epistle. 

In  the  remaining  portion,  he  modestly  proposes  to  supply 
this  defect  by  the  addition  of  some  bungling  prose.  An 
inspection  however  of  his  composition  will  soon  show  that 
the  character  given  of  it  by  himself  is  not  to  be  relied  on  ; 
for  though  his  rich  and  exuberant  flow  of  genius  does  at 
times  overwhelm  his  taste,  and  judgment,  and  discretion; 
though  he  often  exhibits  sentences  inaccurately  con- 
structed, or  employs  words  of  inferior  latinity,  and  phrases 
not  quite  analogous  to  the  rules  of  syntax  ;  yet  he  has  the 
language  fully  at  command,  dives  into  its  deepest  recesses, 
and,  as  it  were,  exhausts  its  energies  in  the  boundless 
variety  of  his  expressions. 

In  this  part  of  bis  dispatch  from  the  French  capital 
Barrow  discovers  such  a  close  attention  to  passing  events, 
such  a  keen  discrimination  of  character,  and  such  a  remark- 
able insight  into  political  causes  and  effects,  that  it  seems 
probable,  if  he  had  early  addicted  himself  to  such  pursuits, 
he  would  have  made  a  great  statesman,  especially  if  honesty 
and  integrity  be  considered  an  addition  to  pre-eminent 
abilities. 

Very  few  years  before  his  arrival  at  Paris,  Louis  XIV. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


XXXV 


had  been  set  free  from  the  restraints  of  his  minority,  and 
the  troubles  of  civil  war:  the  tranquillity  of  peace,  says 
our  author,  had  succeeded  to  the  din  of  arms  ;  fortune 
favored  the  external  projects  of  the  French  monarch  ;  and 
the  internal  face  of  things  presented  a  smiling-  aspect  to 
the  unreflecting-  observer :  at  court  splendor  and  gallantry 
reigned  triumphant ;  plays,  masquerades,  balls,  feasts,  and 
every  other  species  of  amusement  seemed  to  form  the  chief 
business  of  life ;  and  nothing  of  ill  omen  appeared,  or  was 
expected.    Yet  the  keen  eye  of  Barrow  saw  the  elements 
of  mischief  lurking  beneath  the  deceitful  surface  of  things: 
he  saw,  and  although  the  revolutionary  tempest  may  have 
exploded  later  than  was  anticipated,  he  asks  with  a  kind  of 
prophetic  spirit,  "  what  state  of  affairs  can  be  durable,  which 
is  supported  by  violence  ?    Who  can  preserve  undisturbed 
the  patience  of  a  people  whose  very  bowels  are  unceasingly 
torn  by  the  hooks  of  extortion  ;  where  the  minds  of  the 
lower  ranks  are  exasperated  against  the  nobility,  by  the 
memory  of  past,  and  the  sense  of  present  injuries ;  where 
the  administration  of  law  and  justice  is  not  confided  to 
those  who  are  fitted  for  it  by  integrity  and  legal  knowlege, 
but  where  that  which  ought  to  be  the  reward  of  virtue 
becomes  the  means  of  gain  to  the  avaricious  ;  where  the 
distribution  of  high  offices  in  the  army,  in  the  state,  and 
at  the  court,  is  not  made  with  reference  to  dignity  and 
worth,  but  to  the  price  offered  by  purchasers ;  where  the 
soldiers  who  hazard  limbs  and  life  for  their  country  receive 
words  for  pay,  and  are  happy  when  they  obtain  a  tythe 
of  the  latter ;  where,  in  short,  the  nation  is  kept  within 
the  bounds  of  duty,  not  by  the  attractive  power  of  bene- 
volence towards  their  superiors,  but  by  force  and  the  reins 
of  terror  ?    When  such  a  disgraceful  state  of  things  is 


xxxvi 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


constantly  seen,  talked  of,  and  urged  as  the  means  of  ex- 
citement, what  firm  hope  can  there  be  of  peace ;  what 
lasting  possession  of  tranquillity  V 

He  next  portrays  with  a  masterly  hand  the  character 
and  fortunes  of  that  ambitious  minister,  "  sprung  (as  he 
observes)  from  the  same  country  as  the  giants,"*  and  now 
at  the  head  of  affairs  in  France: — Rerum  potitur  quidam 
Gigantum  patrid  oriundus  ;  qui  ex  obscura  conditionis 
angustiis  tandem  in  ecclesiasticce  purpurcs  amplitudintm 
enixus,  cum  pi-incipibus  regio  sanguine  claris,  fortitudim 
consilio  et  favore  populari  subnixis,  tts^i  Trecore/suv  authori- 
tatis  et  potentia  certare  ausus,  ex  itnpari  congressu 
superior  evasit.  Mox  cum  adversd  fortund  conflictari 
sustinuit,  et  suo  culmine  deturbatus,  fugaius,  hostis 
reipublica  pronunciatus,  reditum  suum  procurare,  amissa 
gubernacula  recuperare,  adversarios  successu  exultantes 
reprimere,  eorumque  quosdam  in  ordinem  redigere,  alios 
ex  arena  abigere  potuit:  nunc  in  authoritatis  sedem  repo- 
situs,  in  ed  stabilius  firmari  videtur :  pracipuos  princi- 
pum  et  nobilium  sibi  affinitate  et  necessitudine  devinxit : 
provinciarum  rectores  ab  ejus  nutu  pendent ;  &c. 

He  then  goes  on  to  expose  that  extraordinary  avarice  of 
the  man,  and  that  system  of  extortion,  which  may  shake 
even  this  Marpesian  rock,  may  move  this  Delos,  itnlvr^oy  irsg 
eoutrav.  As  an  instance  of  the  Cardinal's  peculation,  he 
describes  an  attempt  lately  made  by  bim  to  debase  the 
public  money,  through  the  introduction  of  gold  and  silver 
pieces  called  lilies.  These  not  only  contained  more  alloy, 
but  were  less  in  weight  by  one  sixth  than  the  current  coin 
of  the  realm  :  great  murmurs  were  raised  not  only  by  the 

*  Cardinal  Mazariu,  of  an  ancient  Sicilian  family  transplanted  to 
Rome,  was  born  in  1602;  died  in  1661. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


XXXvii 


common  people,  but  by  commercial  men,  and  by  the  par- 
liament of  Paris,  which  refused  to  ratify  the  king's  edict, 
and  even  began  to  deliberate  about  means  for  redressing  the 
evil.  Louis  however  now  determined  to  restrain  this 
assembly,  which  had  made  many  struggles  for  power  in 
the  beginning  of  his  reign,  within  its  ancient  limits.* 
Having  ordered  them  to  attend  to  their  proper  business, 
and  sent  the  chancellor  to  threaten  them  with  his  vengeance 
unless  they  immediately  registered  his  edict,  he  banished 
five  of  their  counsellors,  and  thus  put  an  end  to  their  oppo- 
sition ;  though  the  quiet  thence  produced  had  a  more  dan- 
gerous appearance  than  the  previous  commotion. 

Barrow  next  turns  to  the  state  of  theological  affairs ; 
giving  a  very  interesting  and  animated  account  of  the 
disputes  then  agitating  the  Sorbonne,  particularly  the  cu- 
rious disputations  and  judicial  proceedings  which  had 
lately  taken  place  between  the  Jesuits  and  Arnauld  the 
celebrated  Jansenist,  when  the  presence  of  a  bigoted 
chancelIor,t  sent  on  the  part  of  the  king,  and  an  enor- 
mous number  of  clamorous  Mendicants  who  filled  the  hall, 
procured  an  unjust  sentence  of  expulsion  against  the  ac- 
cused, and  gave  occasion  to  the  famous  Pascal  for  observing, 
in  his  Provincial  Letters,  "  that  it  was  a  much  easier  thine/ 
to  find  Monks  than  arguments." 

Barrow  augurs  well  for  the  security  of  protestantism  in 
the  realm,  from  a  court  anecdote  at  that  time  in  circula- 

*  Le  Roi  des  V  annee  1655,  etait  venu  au  parlement,  en  grosses 
bottes  etun  fouet  a  la  main,  defendre  les  assemblies  des  chambres, 
et  il  avait  parle  avec  tant  do  chaleur,  que  des  ce  jour  on  previt 
un  changement  total  dans  le  royaume.— Hist,  du  Pari,  de  Paris, 
par  M.  Voltaire,  p.  265. 

t  Seguier. 


XXXviii  BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 

tion.  It  was  said  that  the  Archbishop  of  Thoulouse,  a 
man  of  high  character  for  erudition,  having  lately  arrived 
from  his  province,  had  been  with  the  queen-mother,  Anne 
of  Austria,  and  made  bitter  complaints  against  the  liberty 
accorded  to  members  of  the  reformed  church  there,  whom 
he  dignified  by  the  epithets  of  heretics  and  rebels,  implor- 
ing her  Majesty's  aid  against  their  evil  machinations.  In- 
stead, however,  of  the  reply  which  he  expected,  the  queen 
informed  him  that  better  subjects  did  not  exist  in  all  the 
realm,  and  extolled  their  loyalty  far  above  that  of  their  ac- 
cusers. To  this  opinion  one  of  the  marshals  of  France, 
present  at  the  conference,  warmly  assented,  as  did  the 
king  also  himself,  who  came  in  soon  after  and  learned  the 
subject  of  their  conversation  :  he  added  moreover  his  deter- 
mination of  securing  to  his  protestant  subjects  all  the  li- 
berty which  they  had  obtained  by  the  edicts  of  his  prede- 
cessors. Yet  this  was  the  bigoted  tyrant  who  in  a  few 
years  afterwards  revoked  the  Edict  of  Nantes,  exposed 
these  best  of  subjects  to  the  most  horrible  persecutions, 
and  by  one  execrable  act  of  despotism  forced  thousands 
to  seek  for  liberty  and  life  far  from  the  limits  of  their  na- 
tive land. 

Turning  to  the  subject  of  literature  and  science,  Barrow 
laments  the  present  deficiency  of  talent,  and  can  find  no 
names  worthy  of  being  mentioned  but  those  of  Arnaud 
and  Robervalle.  In  perambulating  the  numerous  colleges, 
he  sees  nothing  eminent  except  their  roofs ;  nothing  con- 
spicuous but  their  walls ;  declaring  that  the  Sorbonne, 
the  College  of  Navarre,  and  that  of  the  Jesuits,  all  put 
together,  would  not  equal  Trinity  either  in  splendor  or  in 
size.  This  leads  him  to  a  pleasing  display  of  affection 
towards  that  beloved  place  of  his  education,  in  comparison 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


xxxix 


with  which  all  the  wonders  that  attract  his  notice  in  fo- 
reign realms  are  considered  as  vile  trash.  Quam  cegre 
a  vobis  divellor!  quam  difficile  jam  alienas  cogitationes 
admitto !  Cras  Italiam,  postridie  Germaniam  cogitem, 
hodie  vestrtz  soli  recordationi  defixus  immorabor  ;  a  vobis 
auspicatus  sum,  in  vobis  desinam.  Suo  prcesidio  Ccelesle 
Numen  vos  protegat,  inqtte  sinus  vestros  copiam,  concor- 
diam,  virtutem,  sapientiam  liberaliter  infundat.  Valete. 

By  another  letter,*  dispatched  from  Constantinople,  we 
learn  that  Barrow,  after  residing  a  few  months  in  Paris, 
proceeded  through  the  south  of  France  to  Genoa,  and  from 
thence  to  Florence,  where  he  made  good  use  of  the  liberty 
granted  him  of  reading  in  the  Grand  Duke's  library,  and 
of  inspecting  10,000  medals,  which  were  under  the  care 
of  Mr.  Fitton,  a  learned  Englishman,  who  had  been  invited 
by  his  Highness  to  take  charge  of  the  collection. 

But  whilst  he  was  thus  eagerly  employed  in  the  pursuit 
of  knowlege,  he  became  so  straitened  in  pecuniary  re- 
sources, that  he  must  have  returned  instantly  to  England, 
had  he  not  been  relieved  from  this  embarrassment  by  Mr. 
Stock,f  a  young  merchant  of  London,  who  generously  sup- 
plied him  with  money  to  prosecute  his  travels. 

From  visiting  Rome,  the  great  object  of  his  ardent  cu- 
riosity, he  was  deterred  by  news  of  the  plague  having 
burst  out  at  Naples,  and  which,  as  he  had  anticipated, 
soon  reached  the  Eternal  City.  In  the  perplexity  caused 
by  this  circumstance,  he  heard  of  an  English  vessel  bound 

*  This  epistle  is  not  published  in  Barrow's  Opuscula,  but  is  in- 
serted in  the  Appendix  to  Ward's  Lives  of  the  Gresham  Pro- 
fessors. 

t  To  this  gentleman  he  afterwards  dedicated  his  edition  of 
Euclid's  Data. 


xl 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


for  Constantinople,  in  the  port  of  Leghorn,  whither  he  im- 
mediately repaired,  and  set  sail  for  the  ancient  capital  of 
the  east. 

The  ship  in  which  he  now  embarked,  and  which  was  very 
superior  to  that  in  which  he  left  the  shores  of  England,  soon 
encountered  a  rough  gale,  the  ludicrous  effects  of  which 
on  the  passengers  at  their  dinner-table  are  well  described  in 
a  copy  of  elegiacs  inserted  among  his  Opuscula. 

He  next  touches  on  the  beautiful  countries  by  which 
they  coasted :  but  an  attack  made  on  them  in  the  Ionian 
Sea,  by  an  Algerine  corsair,  forms  a  long  episode  in  this 
poetic  strain.  The  barbarian  ran  up  boldly  and  grappled 
with  their  vessel,  but  met  with  so  stout  a  resistance, 
that  after  a  desperate  and  long  struggle  he  was  glad  to 
sheer  off,  and  leave  them  to  pursue  their  voyage  as  con- 
querors. 

Nec  tamen  erigiraus  ventis  afflanda  secundis 
Carbasa  suspense  pallida  sigua  fugae. 

Barrow  exhibited  great  intrepidity  in  this  engagement ; 
proving  that,  although  his  quarrelsome  propensities  had 
ceased,  his  courage  did  not  fail  him.  Dreading,  as  he  ob- 
serves, nothing  more  than  slavery,  the  most  terrible  pro- 
spect for  a  noble  mind,  he  stuck  manfully  to  his  gun,  and 
contributed,  no  less  by  his  efforts  than  his  example,  to  the 
admirable  resistance  made  by  the  brave  captain  and  his 
crew.  Dr.  Pope  relates,  that  when  he  asked  him  the 
question,  why  he  did  not  go  down  into  the  hold,  and  leave 
the  defence  of  the  ship  to  those  whom  it  concerned,  his 
reply  was  ;  "  it  concerned  no  one  more  than  myself.  I 
would  rather  have  lost  my  life  than  have  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  those  merciless  infidels."    Hence  there  can  be  no 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


doubt  but  that  his  energetic  lines  to  Liberty  came  warm 
from  the  heart : 

Nos  urit  justum  decus,  indignatio  pungit 
Nobilis,  et  patriae  gloria  sancta  rapit ; 

Almaque  Libertas  vitali  charior  aura  : 

Libertas!  bullit  cor,  animusque  tumet ;  &c. 

In  prosecuting  this  strain,  and  enumerating  all  the  evils 
which  he  would  rather  undergo  than  fall  into  the  hands  of 
the  barbarians,  he  mentions  poverty ;  poverty  worse  even 
than  what  he  then  bore— 

 paupertas  durior  ilia 

Quam  fero. 

And  it  is  no  slight  proof  of  the  spirit,  good  conduct,  and 
resources  of  this  extraordinary  man,  that  he  was  able,  with 
such  limited  means,  to  visit  so  many  distant  countries,  and 
in  such  times. 

After  the  interruption  occasioned  by  this  engagement, 
they  pursue  their  course  near  to  the  little  island  of  Cerigo, 
which  gives  the  poet  an  opportunity  of  adverting  to  the 
ancient  opulence  and  glory  of  Peloponnesus :  they  refit 
their  shattered  vessel  at  Milo,  and  thence  sailing  through 
the  Cyclades,  of  which  the  beautiful  and  now  wretched 
Isle  of  Scio  is  selected  for  a  particular  description, 

Ubertate  soli  rcliquas  cultuque  sorores, 
yEdibus,  ingenio,  moribus  exsuperans  ; 

they  arrive  at  Smyrna,  where  our  traveller  experiences  a 
very  hospitable  reception  from  Mr.  Spencer  Bretton,  the 
English  consul,  whose  excellent  endowments  both  of  mind 
and  body  he  celebrates  not  only  in  the  present  elegy,  but 
in  an  epitaph  composed  at  his  death.    It  would  seem  from 


xlii 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


Barrow's  account,  that  many  relics  of  antiquity,  which  then 
threw  an  interest  over  this  great  commercial  city,  have 
since  perished. 

Nunc  quoque  magnifies  jactas  monumeuta  ruinae, 

Splendoris  testes  relliquiasque  tui ; 
Saxorurn  cumulos,  inscriptaque  marmora  Claris 

Priscorum  titulis,  nominibusque  durum;  &c. 

No  Grecian  city  at  present  exhibits  so  few  remains  of 
ancient  art ! 

On  the  eighth  day  they  again  set  sail,  when  a  poetical 
contribution  is  levied  on  the  islands  in  the  northern  part  of 
the  JEgean,  on  the  shores  of  Troy,  the  Hellespont,  Pro- 
pontis,  and  Bosporus,  until  at  length  the  imperial  seat  of 
the  eastern  Caesars,  usurped  by  Ottoman  barbarians,  comes 
full  into  view. 

 attollunt  septem  fastigia  turres, 

Et  patet  urbs  long*  meta  statuta*  viae. 

At  Constantinople  Barrow  met  with  a  cordial  reception 
from  the  English  ambassador,  Sir  Thomas  Bendish,  and 
from  one  of  the  principal  merchants,  Sir  Jonathan  Dawes  ; 
with  whom  he  afterwards  kept  up  an  intimate  friendship 
and  correspondence.  He  did  not  however  forget  his  col- 
lege, to  the  members  of  which  he  sent  a  long  letter,  to- 
gether with  a  copy  of  hexameters,  consisting  of  near  a 
thousand  verses,  (though  it  is  but  a  fragment,)  on  the  reli- 
gion of  the  Turks. 

*  It  seems  extraordinary  that  Barrow's  own  ear,  certainly  not  an 
unmusical  one,  did  not  lead  him  to  select  the  word  petita  in  this 
passage;  though  the  rule  of  prosody,  forbidding  a  short  vowel  to  re- 
main so  before  *  and  another  consonant,  seems  to  have  been  totally 
unknown  to  him,  as  he  violates  it  in  a  thousand  instances. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW.  xliii 

In  this  letter  he  expresses  great  fear  lest  his  friends 
should  blame  his  long  silence,  declaring  that,  on  his  arrival 
at  the  eastern  capital,  his  principal  consideration  was  to 
determine  what  subject  seemed  most  important,  and  how  he 
might  best  pay  the  debt  which  he  owed  to  his  college.  Ac- 
cordingly he  had  essayed  to  throw  into  elegiacs  the  adven- 
tures of  his  voyage;  and  after  a  short  breathing-time,  had 
attempted  to  versify  the  information  which  he  had  collected 
concerning  the  manners  and  religion  of  the  people  among 
whom  he  was  sojourning.  It  appears,  however,  that  this 
was  not  his  sole  employment,  since  we  find  in  his  Opuscula 
an  epitome  of  the  Mahometan  tenets  in  Latin ;  a  treatise 
on  the  superstition  of  the  Turks,  in  English ;  translated 
lists  of  Turkish  words,  of  Turkish  proverbs,  of  the  offi- 
cers of  the  seraglio,  and  those  of  the  empire  ;  together  with 
an  English  version  of  a  curious  history  written  by  Albert 
Bobovius,  musician  of  the  seraglio,  relating  to  a  conspi- 
racy in  the  harem,  and  the  death  of  the  old  sultana,  grand- 
mother of  the  reigning  emperor.  Nor  did  his  labors  end 
here  :  being  now  in  the  ancient  see  of  St.  Chrysostom,  and 
animated  by  the  religio  loci,  he  diligently  perused  the  whole 
writings  of  that  most  eloquent  of  the  Fathers ;  whence  pro- 
bably he  imbibed  a  portion  of  the  noble  eloquence  which 
pervades  those  discourses  with  which  he  has  enriched  our 
literature,  and  advanced  the  interests  of  religion  :  so  true 
is  the  opinion  of  Longinus,  that  the  sublime  itself  may  be 
propagated,  and  a  kindred  soul  catch  inspiration  from  the 
genius  of  some  mighty  predecessor. 

Barrow  next  describes  to  his  correspondents  the  political 
state  of  the  Ottoman  empire  ;  and  as  he  had  already  drawn 
a  portrait  of  the  French  minister,  he  now  with  equal  ability 
delineates  the  character  of  the  Vizir  Azem,  or  prime 


Xliv  BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 

minister  of  Turkey,  then  acting  as  viceroy  under  the 
reigning  Sultan  Mahomet  IV.  who  had  ascended  the 
throne  very  young  in  1649,  after  his  father,  the  imbecile 
Ibrahim,  had  been  strangled  by  the  rebellious  Janizaries. 
This  vizir  he  describes  as  a  man  of  uncommon  energy, 
though  almost  a  septuagenarian  :  he  had  been  raised,  as  is 
not  unusual  in  Turkey,  from  a  very  low  station  to  the 
second  place  in  the  empire  ;  and  in  the  space  of  two 
years  had,  by  his  wise  counsels  and  great  achievements, 
restored  the  Ottoman  throne  to  its  pristine  strength  and 
glory.  At  this  time  he  had  persuaded  the  Sultan  to  move 
his  head-quarters  to  Adrianople,  in  order  to  carry  on  war 
with  greater  vigor  and  alacrity  against  the  kingdom  of 
Transylvania.  Barrow,  having  previously  enumerated  his 
conquests,  deprecates  the  storm  which  seems  to  hang  over 
Christendom,  and  rejoices  in  the  diversion  which  is  likely 
to  be  made  by  the  great  rebellion  of  Hassan  Pasha  of 
Aleppo,  who  is  up  in  arms  with  a  vast  army,  demanding, 
together  with  many  other  reforms,  the  heads  of  his  ene- 
mies the  vizir  and  mufti,  from  whose  machinations  he  had 
himself  narrowly  escaped. 

With  regard  to  the  Greek  subjects  of  the  Porte,  it  is 
said  that  nothing  new  had  happened  since  the  execution  of 
their  patriarch  in  the  preceding  year;  an  event  which 
bears  a  curious  resemblance  to  that  act  of  fierce  fanaticism 
which  has  occurred  in  our  own  days. 

Parthenius,  like  his  late  unfortunate  successor,  was 
considered  one  of  the  best  men  who  for  a  long  time  had 
occupied  the  patriarchal  throne;  but  he  was  accused  of 
holding  correspondence  with  the  Czar  of  Muscovy,  of 
whom  the  Turks  were  extremely  jealous,  whilst  the  Greeks 
looked  up  to  him  as  the  supporter  of  their  religion,  and 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


Xlv 


the  expected  avenger  of  their  bitter  servitude.  Very  few 
people  considered  the  patriarch  guilty  of  this  crime,  but 
rather  thought  that  it  had  been  forged  against  him  by 
some  persons  anxious  to  supplant  him  in  his  high  office  ; 
since  the  ambition  of  the  Greek  priesthood  is  excessive 
even  in  their  abject  state.  The  vizir  however,  without 
paying  any  attention  to  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  but 
rather  wishing  for  an  example  to  deter  others  from  holding 
communication  with  enemies  of  the  Mahometan  faith, 
ordered  the  unfortunate  prelate  to  be  brought  instantly 
into  a  public  part  of  the  city,  where  he  was  hanged  up  in 
his  pontifical  robes,  and  exposed  for  two  days  to  public 
view. 

The  absurdities  of  the  Greek  religion  are  intentionally 
passed  over  by  our  traveller  ;  but  he  notices  that  gay  and 
festive  disposition,  which  seems  to  have  characterized  the 
nation  in  all  ages.  He  remarks  that  their  festivals  are  the 
only  religious  ordinances  which  they  observe  with  alacrity  ; 
and  under  the  pressure  of  a  most  cruel  slavery  they  retain 
a  cheerful  disposition:  they  sing;  they  dance;  in  a  word, 
they  play  the  Greek  intirely. 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  interesting  letter  he  pleads 
several  excuses  for  having  absented  himself  more  than 
three  years  from  his  college  ;  but  soon  afterwards,  when  he 
had  disposed  his  affairs  properly  for  his  return,  he  pro- 
ceeded by  sea  to  Venice,  where  as  soon  as  he  had  landed, 
the  ship  took  fire,  and  was  consumed  with  all  its  cargo. 
Whether  Barrow  kept  any  journal  of  his  tour,  besides 
the  letters  written  to  his  college,  we  have  no  means  to  de- 
termine :  if  he  did,  we  probably  owe  the  loss  of  it  to  this 
conflagration ;  nor  will  that  loss  appear  inconsiderable  to 
him  who  rightly  estimates  the  man,  his  native  talents,  his 


Xlvi  BIOGRAPHICAL.  MEMOIR  OF 

zeal  for  tuowlege,  his  keen  perception  of  physical  and  mo* 
ral  beauty.  He  was  no  pedant,  who  pored  into  the  dark 
recesses  of  antiquity  until  his  eyes  became  blinded  with 
its  dust;  but  in  him  wisdom  and  learning  were  united, 
and  enthusiasm  was  tempered  with  judgment :  with  such 
a  guide  therefore  it  would  have  been  delightful  to  have 
retraced  at  greater  length  scenes  of  departed  grandeur  or 
of  present  prosperity,  to  have  imbibed  instruction  from  his 
reflexions  on  ages  past,  or  from  his  remarks  on  the  arts, 
literature,  and  manners  of  his  own  day. 

Such  loss  however  must  after  all  be  a  source  only  of 
imaginary  regret:  we  may  feel  real  disappointment  that 
the  letters  which  he  actually  wrote  were  not  composed  in 
his  own  language.  Excellent  as  they  are,  it  can  scarcely 
be  doubted  but  that  his  narrative  would  have  been  at  once 
more  animated  and  comprehensive,  had  he  rejected  the 
Latin  garb  in  which  he  has  dressed  it.  It  is  impossible 
for  a  dead  language  to  give  that  nice  shade  and  color  and 
effect  to  description,  which  genius  loves  to  cast  around  it. 
There  are  many  things  which  it  cannot  express  through  a 
defect  of  phraseology ;  and  it  is  always  accompanied  by  a 
certain  labor  of  compilation  which  cramps  the  imagination, 
and  indisposes  the  mind  to  the  exertion  of  its  faculties.  In 
rejecting  therefore  his  native  tongue,  Barrow  acted  like 
an  enchanter,  who  should  cast  away  his  magic  wand,  when 
he  would  invest  a  scene  with  beauties  not  its  own.  Above 
all  we  may  lament  the  taste  which  led  him  to  compose 
elegiacs  and  hexameters,  when  he  might,  perhaps  in  higher 
and  in  holier  strains,  have  anticipated  that  genius  who 
in  after  ages  departed  from  the  same  walls,  traversed  the 
same  realms,  and  described  the  same  scenes  in  those  splen- 
did stanzas  which  are  his  best  passport  to  immortality. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


xlvii 


The  fault  however  was  more  that  of  the  age  than  of  the 
man.  Milton  himself  fell  into  it,  though  he  soon  saw  the 
propriety  of  stripping  the  stiff  unpliant  drapery  of  antiquity 
from  off  his  young  and  beauteous  muse.  Admirable  as 
his  Latin  poems  are,  who  would  save  them  all  at  the  ex- 
pense even  of  Lycidas,  to  say  nothing  of  the  inimitable 
Comus  ?  Barrow  however  made  ample  amends  for  neg- 
lecting such  poetic  strains  by  the  noble  prose  with  which 
he  has  enriched  our  literature. 

Having  left  Venice,  he  made  the  tour  of  Germany  and 
Holland ;  returning  to  England,  as  he  proposed,  in  1659. 
The  period  being  now  arrived  when  the  fellows  of  Trinity 
are  obliged  by  their  statutes  to  take  holy  orders,  or  to  quit 
the  college,*  Barrow  procured  episcopal  ordination  from 
Bishop  Brownrigg,  and  soon  after  the  Restoration,  in  1660, 
he  was  elected  without  competition  to  the  Greek  pro- 
fessorship, on  the  resignation  of  Mr.  Widdrington.  This 
appointment  was  earnestly  recommended  by  Duport,  who 
had  greater  pleasure  in  promoting  the  fortunes  of  this 
promising  and  favorite  pupil,  than  in  re-occupying  a  chair 
of  which  he  had  been  unjustly  deprived.  In  the  inaugural 
oration  made  by  the  new  professor  on  this  occasion,  he 
takes  occasion  to  celebrate  the  most  illustrious  among  his 
predecessors ;  Erasmus,  Sir  Thomas  Smith,  Sir  John 
Cheke,  Downes,  and  Creighton ;  whilst  he  speaks  of 
Widdrington  himself  in  a  manner  that  may  lead  us  to 
suppose  him  not  unqualified  for  the  offices  to  which  par- 
liamentary interest  alone  seemed  to  have  raised  him.  But 
in  describing  his  beloved  tutor's  character,  disposition,  and 
accomplishments,  Barrow's  genius  seems  to  revel  with 

•  Seven  years  after  the  degree  of  A.M. 


xlviii 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


delight ;  particularly  when  he  contrasts  that  amiable  per- 
son's small  stature  with  his  gigantic  acquirements,  in  so 
playful  and  ingenious  a  manner,  that  I  should  deservedly 
incur  the  learned  reader's  reproaches  if  I  did  not  give  him 
an  opportunity  of  perusing  it  in  the  margin.* 

*  Illustre  vero  agmen  claudat  haud  postremus  merito,  quinausim 
dicere  primus,  ut  qui  nemo  banc  catliedram  aut  tenuit  tamdia,  ant 
tantopere  decoravit,  mini  perpeluo  obsequio  colendus,  nec  vobis 
minus  omni  honore  suspiciendus,  vir  optimus,  el  oculorum  licet 
judicio  renuenti,  eliam  maximus  Duportus.  Exiguo  quippe  cortice 
obvolutus  omnigena;  eruditionis  nucleus,  angusta  capsula  inclusus 
ingens  tbesaurus  lilerarius;  volumine  parvo  comprehensum  quotquot 
suntlinguarum,arliumet  scienliarum  compendium;  tot  Erasmorum, 
Budasorum,  Slepbanorum  accurata  epitome ;  cujusin  modico  corpore 
immensus  animus  habitat, giganteum  versatur  ingenium,  omnes  Athe- 
ns hospitantur,  tota  quanta  quanta  est  Graecia  div  ersatur :  quia  nostra 
plerorumque  ultima  memoria  Atlantem  agens  Graecarum  literarum 
Academiae  decus  bumeris  non  magnis  adeo  quam  validis  sustentavit, 
et  velut  stella  mole  arcta,  virtute  difl'usissima  lucidissimis  radiis  uni- 
versum  mundum  circumfulsit;  a  quo  babel  Anglia  nostra,  ne  aliisgen- 
tibus  literarum  gloria  cedat,  nec  suos  Gallia;  Scaligeros,  Salmasios, 
Patavios,suosveBelgioHeinsios,Grolios,Vossiosquodinvideat.  Quis 
enim  Graecas  lileras  perspexit  inlimius?  quis  Latinas  extulit  purius 
vel  copiosius?  quis  poeticaui  facullatem  felicius  coluit,  et  coelestis 
Musae  diviniores  raplus  heroici  carminis  majestate  propius  adaequa- 
vit ?  quis  tot  unquam  orationes  habuit  concinnas,  lepidas,  eruditas? 
aut  dum  tot  annos,  imo  tot  lustra,  juventutem  Academicam  insti- 
tuit,  adeo  grammaticam  austeritatem  critica  varietate  condivit,  rhe- 
torica  venustate  expolivit,  amoena  urbanitate  temperavit?  Quis 
denique  tam  fideli  opera,  tam  indefesso  labore,  tarn  assidua  dili- 
gentia,  susceptam  provinciam  administravit,  adeoquidem  ut  succes- 
soribus  siiis  tam  insigne  exemplar  sequi  difficile  fecerit,  assequendi 
vero  spem  omnem  prasciderit,  et  ademerit  potestatem  ?  At  quid  ego 
loquacis  linguae  insulsa  teraeritate  tantas  dotes  minuo,  taotis  virtu- 
tibus  detero,  tanta  merita  obfusco,  qua;  (nisi  loci  bujus  et  temporis 
ratio  silcotium  damnaret,  nisi  illius  in  vos  magna  merita,  in  literas 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


xlix 


As  Barrow  began  by  praising  the  modern  professors  of 
Greek  literature,  he  concludes  with  an  eulogy  on  the 
ancient  authors  of  it ;  commenting  also  on  the  obligations 
due  from  the  Latin  writers  to  that  ingenious  people,  "  who 
took  captive  the  fierce  conqueror,  and  introduced  arts  into 
rustic  Latium."  The  only  part  of  his  speech  derogatory  to 
good  taste,  is  that  where  he  seeks  unduly  to  depreciate  his 
own  merits,  when  justly  intitled  to  that  honest  pride 
which  is  due  to  high  deserts.  Yet  did  we  not  know  the 
depth  and  extent  of  Barrow's  acquirements,  we  might  be 
disposed  even  to  credit  his  assertions  on  this  head,  when 
we  find  him  soon  afterwards  complaining  in  the  very  same 
schools,  that  they  had  been  utterly  deserted,  and  his 
lectures  given  to  empty  benches.  "  There  I  sat,"  says  he, 
"in  the  professorial  chair,  like  Prometheus  affixed  to  his 
solitary  rock,  or  muttering  Greek  sentences  to  the  naked 
walls,  like  an  A.ttic  owl  driven  out  from  the  society  of  all 
the  other  birds  in  the  air."*    He  next  hints  at  the  author 


eximia,  in  meipsum  infinita,  etiam  invito  milii  verba  extorsissent,) 
satius  erat  tacita  admiratione  fuisse  veneratum?  Quin  vos  evolvite 
scripta,  recolite  dicta,  quae  aulores  interpretanti,  elucidanti,  confe- 
renti,  quae  praslegenti,  et  peroranti  exciderunt,  iu  memoriam  revo- 
cate,  ut  ex  profectu  vestio  magis  discatis  quam  ab  elogio  meo  tan- 
tum  virum  aestimare,  cui  similem  professorein  multa  vobis  non 
dabunt,  parem  paucissima  invenient,  majorem  nulla  unquam  saecula 
parient,  nulla  peperenint. 

*  A  passage  in  a  letter  of  Arcbbishop  Sancroft,  when  master  of  Ema- 
nuel Coll.,  dated  Jan.  17th,  1663,  will  give  us  some  idea  of  the  low 
state  of  the  litlera  humaniores  about  this  time.  "  It  would  grieve  you" 
(says  he)  "to  hear  of  our  public  examinations;  the  Hebrew  and 
Greek  learning  being  out  of  fashion  every  where,  and  especially  in 
the  other  colleges,  where  we  are  forced  to  seek  our  candidates  for 
fellowships."— D'Oyly's  Life  of  Sancroft,  vol.  i.  p.  128. 


I 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


whom  he  had  selected  for  explanation  by  observing,  "  that 
he  and  his  Sophocles  had  acted  with  an  empty  orchestra : 
that  the  poet  could  not  procure  a  tritagonistes,  nor  a 
chorus  ;  no,  not  even  one  of  boys  :  that  there  was  not  a 
single  person  to  accompany  the  singers,  to  applaud  the 
dancers,  or  to  interrupt  the  speakers;  that  if  by  chance  a 
straggling  freshman,  or  a  shipwrecked  soph  was  driven  by 
wind  or  tide  on  those  desert  shores,  he  peeped  in  per- 
haps, but  when  he  heard  three  words  of  tragic  sound,  he 
took  instantly  to  his  heels  and  ran  away  as  from  the  cave  of 
Polyphemus,  even  as  if  he  were  about  to  be  devoured  by  a 
barbarous  Greek."*  This  may  serve  to  give  the  reader 
some  idea  of  the  state  of  learning  at  this  time  in  the  junior 
part  of  the  university,  as  well  as  of  the  sarcastic  style  of 
this  speech,  which  is  called  an  oratio  sarcasmica,  and  is 
on  many  accounts  worthy  of  attentive  perusal.  In  a  pas- 
sage of  great  beauty,  he  states  the  reasons  which  prompted 
him  to  select  the  tragedies  of  Sophocles  for  the  subject  of 
his  lectures,  and  dilates  on  the  superior  excellence  of  that 
dramatic  poet,  whilst  with  great  energy  and  severe  sarcasm 
he  investigates  the  causes  that  could  produce  so  much 
apathy  in  a  dissolute  and  degenerate  age.  The  next 
question  is ;  whom  shall  he  substitute  for  the  forsaken 
Sophocles?  This  gives  him  an  opportunity  of  briefly 
characterising  the  most  esteemed  Greek  authors,  and  of 
fixing  on  the  great  Stagyrite,  who  then  held  the  literary 
world  in  chains,  and  who  was  probably  at  that  time  neces- 
sary for  obtaining  a  degree.  Superest,  ut  in  unum  Ari- 
stotelem  spes  nostra,  velut  in  sacram  anclioram,  reclinent ; 
ut  ad  Lycaum,  ceu  ad  arcem  Sophia  munitissimam, portum 

*  Our  language  here  fails  in  expressing  the  words,  "  barbarf 

GrcBculo." 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


li 


studii  certissimum,  sanctissimam  aram  discijilinee,  confu- 
giamus.  Accordingly  he  proposes  to  explain  his  exoteric 
writings,  and  to  begin  with  his  rhetoric.  Mr.  A.  Hill 
informs  us  that  some  friend,  that  is  to  himself,  borrowed 
these  Aristotelian  lectures,  and  forgot  to  restore  them. 

Barrow's  friends  hoped  that  he  would  have  been  ad- 
vanced to  preferment  by  the  government  soon  after  the 
Restoration.  It  seems  also  that  he  himself  considered  such 
a  distinction  due  to  the  sacrifices  made  by  his  family,  and 
to  his  own  loyalty  ;  for  the  following  distich,  which  he 
made  on  his  disappointed  hopes,  is  recorded,  though  not 
inserted  in  his  Opuscula:* 

Te  magis  optavit  rediturum,  Carole,  nemo  ; 
Et  sensit  nemo  te  rediissc  minus. 

In  1661  he  proceeded  to  the  degree  of  Bachelor  in 
Divinity,  with  three  others  of  his  college  ;  and  to  this 
period,  in  all  probability,  the  excellent  Oratio  ad  Clerum, 
or  Latin  sermon,  published  in  his  Opuscula,  must  be  re- 
ferred. In  July  next  year  he  was  elected  Gresham  Pro- 
sessor  of  geometry,  principally  at  the  recommendation  of 
Dr.  Wilkins,  who  was  then  master  of  Trinity,  and  after- 
wards Bishop  of  Chester.  In  a  Latin  oration,  delivered 
before  his  lectures,  after  passing  a  splendid  but  just  enco- 
mium on  Sir  Thomas  Gresham,  founder  of  the  college,  he 
proceeds  to  eulogise  in  a  very  handsome  manner  several  of 
its  professors,  dwelling  particularly  on  the  great  Sir  Christo- 


*  He  had  written  an  Alcaic  ode  of  65  stanzas  on  the  king's  return, 
which,  besides  exhibiting  the  general  inaccuracies  of  that  age  in 
metrical  rhythm  and  nicety  of  construction,  betrays  bad  taste  in  the 
unconscionable  length  to  which  it  is  spun  out. 


lii 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


pher  Wren*  among  the  living,  and  his  own  amiable  and 
learned  predecessor,  Mr.  Lawrence  Rooke,  among  the 
departed.  In  this  same  year  he  wrote  an  epithalamium  in 
Greek  verse  on  the  marriage  of  King  Charles  and  Queen 
Catherine ;  moreover,  he  refused  a  living  of  considerable 
value,  because  the  condition  annexed  to  it,  of  teaching  tbe 
patron's  son,  had  too  much  the  appearance  of  a  simoniacal 
contract.  Whilst  he  continued  at  Gresham  College,  he 
not  only  discharged  the  duty  of  his  own  professorship  with 
great  diligence  and  universal  approbation,  but  supplied 
the  place  of  Dr.  Pope  in  the  astronomical  chair  during 
that  gentleman's  absence  abroad.  Among  his  lectures, 
were  some  on  the  projection  of  the  sphere,  and,  as  Mr. 
Sherburne  says.f  prepared  for  the  press  ;  but  these  also, 
having  been  lent  to  a  friend,  could  never  afterwards  be 
recovered. 

On  the  20th  of  May,  1663,  he  was  elected  Fellow  of  the 
Royal  Society,  in  the  first  choice  made  by  the  Council  after 
the  grant  of  their  charter  ;  and  on  the  15th  of  J uly  fol- 
lowing, when  his  excellent  uncle  was  appointed  Bishop  of 
Sodor  and  Man,  he  preached  the  consecration  sermon  in 
King  Henry  the  Seventh's  Chapel.  In  this  same  year  also 
the  executors  of  Mr.  Henry  Lncas.t  who  had  been  M.  P. 
for  the  university,  proceeded,  according  to  the  directions 
of  his  will,  to  found  a  mathematical  professorship  at  Cam- 
bridge ;  and  Barrow  obtained  the  first  nomination  to  this 

*  He  styles  him  "  prvdigium  olim  pueri,  7iunc  miraculum  viri,  imo 
dmmonium  hominis."  He  seems  to  have  always  entertained  a  respect 
and  friendship  for  this  great  man,  to  whom  he  addresses  an  epigram 
preserved  in  his  Opusciila. 

t  Appendix  to  Manilius,  p.  112. 

I  Mr.  Robert  Raworth  and  Mr.  Thos.  Buck. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


liii 


chair  at  the  instance  of  his  staunch  and  zealous  friend  Dr. 
Wilkins.  On  the  14th  of  March,  1664,  he  made  his  in- 
augural speech  in  the  public  schools,  wherein,  after  due 
tribute  of  praise  paid  to  the  founder  of  the  professorship 
and  his  executors,  he  turns  to  his  own  case,  and  apologizes 
for  having  deserted  the  Greek  and  gone  over  to  the  Mathe- 
matical schools.  All  who  are  acquainted  with  Barrow's 
literary  labors,  must  feel  considerable  surprise  at  the  de- 
claration, that  although  he  never  was  altogether  averse  to 
philological  pursuits,  yet  the  whole  bent  of  his  mind,  and 
his  ardent  affections,  always  lay  towards  philosophy  :*  the 
study  of  this  he  terms  a  serious  investigation  of  things, 
whilst  he  considers  literature,  in  comparison  with  it,  merely 
as  a  childish  hunting  after  words.  He  expresses  therefore 
great  delight  in  marching,  as  we  might  say,  out  of  the  tread- 
mill of  grammar  (e  grammatico  pistrino)  into  the  open 
palaestra  of  mathematical  science  ;  yet  though  he  has  thus 
emancipated  himself  from  his  literary  fetters  by  this  ex- 
change of  office,  he  professes  a  most  ardent  attachment  to  his 
university,  as  a  place  on  which  kings  might  look  with  envy  ; 
as  a  place  where  he  anxiously  desires  to  spend  his  days, 
and  from  which  nothing  but  extreme  necessity  shall  ever 
separate  him.  Indeed  about  this  time,  having  resigned  his 
charge  of  the  Cottonian  library,  which  he  held  on  trial  for 
a  few  months,  and  having  also  given  up  his  chair  at  Gresham 
College,  he  retired  to  Cambridge,  and  there  fixed  his  resi- 
dence for  the  remainder  of  his  life. 

With  regard  to  Barrow's  sentiments  on  the  subject  of 

*  "Etcnira  sicuti  nunqnani  a  philologiil  piorsus  abhorruerim,  ita 
(ne  dissimulem)  pliilosopliiam  semper  impensius  adamavi  ;  ut  vo- 
culanim  ludicrum  aucupium  morose  non  despiciam,  ita  seriam 
rerum  indaginem  magis  cordicitus  complector;"  &c. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


classical  and  mathematical  pursuits,  though  there  can  be 
little  doubt  but  that  his  predilections  lay  towards  the  latter, 
yet  we  must  allow  some  latitude  to  his  expressions,  when 
we  consider  not  only  the  apologetic  nature  of  his  speech, 
and  the  mode  of  lecturing  in  those  days,  which  must  have 
been  much  more  irksome  than  at  present  from  its  neces- 
sary adaptation  to  a  very  juvenile  audience  ;  but  the  pro- 
bable application  of  them  to  verbal  criticism,  a  study  pur- 
sued with  very  little  zeal  or  success  at  that  time,  though 
carried  to  a  high  degree  of  perfection  by  succeeding  scho- 
lars, with  the  great  Bentley  at  their  head.  This  species 
of  knowlege,  useful  not  only  as  the  pioneer  of  literature, 
but  as  a  great  strengthener  of  the  reasoning  powers,  Bar- 
row did  not  possess ;  but  he  had  a  great,  an  almost  unli- 
mited acquaintance  with  the  best  classical  authors,  and  the 
most  esteemed  fathers  of  the  church  :  nor  could  he  ever 
have  meant  to  despise  or  undervalue  those  admirable 
sources  whence  he  drew  such  constant  and  pure  streams  of 
eloquence  and  wisdom.* 

In  1()#9  he  composed  his  able  expositions  of  the  Creed, 
the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  Decalogue,  and  the  Sacraments, 
probably  as  exercises  for  a  college  preachership ;  and  these, 
be  observes,f  so  took  up  his  thoughts,  that  he  could  not 
easily  apply  them  to  any  other  matter :  yet  in  this  same 
year  he  published  his  Lectures  on  Optics,  which  he  dedi- 
cated to  the  executors  of  Mr.  Lucas,  as  the  first-fruits  of 


*  This  appears  evident  from  one  of  his  addresses  to  the  academic 
youth  :  "  Neque  demum  linguas  negligatis  licet,  scientiarum  claves 
et  eruditionis  vestibula;  sine  quibus  ipsi  nec  doctos  intelligere,  nec 
indoctos  potestis  erudire,  et  sapientia  vobis  vel  nulla  vel  infans  sit 
oportet."— Opusc.  p.  349. 

t  See  note  in  Ward's  Lives,  &c.  p.  161. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


lv 


their  Institution.  These  lectures,  says  Dr.  Ward,*  being 
sent  to  the  learned  Mr.  James  Gregorie,  professor  of  ma- 
thematics at  St.  Andrew's,  and  perused  by  him,  he  gives 
the  following  character  of  the  author  in  a  letter  to  Mr. 
John  Collins.  "  Mr.  Barrow  in  bis  Optics  showeth  him- 
self a  most  subtil  geometer,  so  that  I  think  him  superior 
to  any  that  ever  I  looked  on.  I  long  exceedingly  to  see 
his  geometrical  lectures,  especially  because  I  have  some 
notions  on  that  same  subject  by  mee.  I  entreat  you  to  send 
them  to  mee  presently,  as  they  come  from  the  presse,  for 
I  esteem  the  author  more  than  yee  can  easilie  imagine." 
Nor  were  Barrow's  mathematical  abilities  undervalued  by 
that  rare  genius  who  so  soon  eclipsed  them :  for  in  one 
of  his  letters  to  Mr.  John  Collins,  dated  July  13,  1672,f 
Newton  observes,  in  allusion  probably  to  these  geome- 
trical lectures;  "  nor  is  your  mathematical  intelligence 
less  grateful;  for  I  am  very  glad  that  Dr.  Barrow's 
book  is  abroad."  Yet  when  this  learned  work,  which  was 
published  in  1670,  had  been  sometime  before  the  world, 
and  Barrow  heard  only  of  two  persons  who  had  read  it 
through,  viz.  Mr.  Slusius  of  Liege,  and  Mr.  Gregory 
of  Scotland,  (though  these  two,  says  Mr.  Hill,  might  be 
reckoned  instead  of  thousands,)  the  little  relish  such  things 
then  met  with,  helped  to  loose  him  altogether  from  those 
speculations,  and  direct  his  attention  more  exclusively  to 
theological  studies.  To  these  indeed  his  genius  evidently 
tended, even  perhaps  when  hehimself  was  least  aware  of  it  ;t 

*  Lives  of  Gresham  Professors,  p.  161. 
t  See  Nichols's  Illustrations  of  Literature,  vol.  iv.  p.  46. 
I  "The  study  of  morality  and  divinity"  (says  Mr.  A.  Hill)  "  had 
always  been  so  predominant  with  him,  that  when  he  commented  on 


Ivi 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


to  these  the  whole  texture  of  his  mind  was  subservient  ; 
and  in  this  point  of  view  we  may  admire  the  disposal  of 
him  by  providence. 

Never  probably  was  religion  at  a  lower  ebb  in  the  Bri- 
tish dominions  than  when  that  profligate  prince  Charles  II. 
who  sat  unawed  on  a  throne  formed,  as  it  were,  out  of  his 
father's  scaffold,  found  the  people  so  wearied  of  purita- 
nical hypocrisy,  presbyterian  mortifications,  and  a  thousand 
forms  of  unintelligible  mysticism,  that  they  were  ready  to 
plunge  into  the  opposite  vices  of  scepticism  or  infidelity, 
and  to  regard  with  complacency  the  dissolute  morals  of 
himself  and  his  vile  associates.*  To  denounce  this  wicked- 
ness in  the  most  awful  terms  ;  to  strike  at  guilt  with  fear- 
less aim,  whether  exalted  on  high  places,  or  lurking  in 
obscure  retreats ;  to  delineate  the  native  horrors  and  sad 
effects  of  vice  ;  to  develope  the  charms  of  virtue,  and  to 
inspire  a  love  of  it  in  the  human  heart ;  in  short,  to  assist 
in  building  up  the  fallen  buttresses  and  broken  pillars  of 
God's  church  on  earth,  was  the  high  and  holy  task  to 
which  Barrow  was  called.  In  order,  however,  that  he 
might  collect  his  stupendous  powers  for  the  uninterrupted 
prosecution  of  it,  he  resigned  his  mathematical  chair  to 
that  great  luminary  of  science  whose  glory  has  never 
been  obscured :  next  indeed  to  the  credit  which  Isaac 


Archimedes,  he  could  not  forbear  to  prefer  and  admire  much  more 
Suarez  for  bis  book  de  Legibus ;  and  before  his  Apollonius  I  find 
written  this  divine  ejaculation,  'O  0e&s  yewiierpei-  Tu  autem.  Domine, 
quantuses  geometra!"  &c. 

*  The  picture  is  drawn  very  vividly  in  many  of  Barrow's  sermons, 
and  in  his  Latin  speeches  delivered  before  the  university.  See  in 
particular  his  oration  atapublic  commencement:  Opuscula.p.  343. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


Ivii 


Barrow  derives  from  the  exertion  of  his  own  vast  powers 
in  the  augmentation  of  scientific  philosophy,  is  that  which 
is  due  to  him  for  his  early  notice  of  Isaac  Newton  ;*  to 
whom  he  was  the  constant  patron  and  the  friend,  as  well 
as  the  precursor. 

Since  Barrow  may  be  looked  on  as  the  promoter  of  a  great 
alteration  in  the  course  of  studies  pursued  at  Cambridge, 
a  concise  account  of  those  studies  previous  to  his  time,  will 
perhaps  not  be  thought  out  of  place  here. 

This  university,  like  its  sister  establishment,  was  at  its 
first  institution  little  more  than  a  large  school  of  ecclesias- 
tics, where  the  rudiments  of  grammar  and  of  such  science 
as  was  then  in  vogue,  were  taught,  long  before  the  inven- 
tion of  priming,  or  the  blessings  of  the  Reformation  had 
supplied  means  of  useful  knowlege  or  general  instruction. 
Cambridge  is  indebted  to  a  few  monks,  sent  by  the  Abbot 
of  Crowland  from  his  manor  of  Cottenham,  in  the  be- 
ginning of  the  twelfth  century,  for  an  advanced  state  of 

*  He  was  not  only  the  first  to  remark  the  merit  of  our  great  phi- 
losopher, but  he  submitted  to  his  inspection  and  revision  many  of 
his  own  excellent  mathematical  works,  wrote  of  him  in  the  highest 
terms  to  his  learned  correspondents,  and  resigned  to  him  the  Luca- 
sian  professorship  in  Nov.  1669.  In  a  letter  to  Mr.  John  Collins, 
of  July  20th,  1669,  he  acquaints  him  thatafrieud  of  his  had  brought 
him  some  papers,  wherein  he  had  set  down  "  methods  of  calculating 
the  dimensions  of  magnitudes  like  that  of  Mr.  Mercator  for  the  hyper- 
bola, but  very  general ;  as  also  of  resolving  equations  ;"  which  he  pro- 
mises to  send  him.  And  accordingly  he  did  so,  as  appears  from 
another  letter  dated  the  31st  of  that  month.  And  in  a  third  letter 
of  the  20th  of  August  following  he  says.  "/  am  glad  my  friend's 
papers  give  you  so  much  satisfaction ;  his  name  is  Mr.  Newton,  a  fellow 
of  our  college,  and  very  young,  being  but  the  second  year  Master  of  Arts ; 
but  of  an  extraordinary  genius  and  proficiency  in  these  things." — See 
Ward's  Lives,  p.  161,  note. 

BAR.  VOL.  I.  d 


Iviii 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


learning,  when  the  era  of  its  introduction  is  considered. 
These  professors  being  "  thoroughly  furnished,"  according 
to  the  quaint  idiom  of  Fuller,  "in  philosophy  and  other  pri- 
mitive sciences,"  taught  publicly  in  a  spacious  barn,*  until 
the  number  of  students  that  came  to  their  lectures  ren- 
dered separate  places  of  tuition  necessary.  Their  plan  of 
study  was  drawn  from  the  university  of  Orleans,  com- 
prising grammar  and  rhetoric  on  the  foundation  of  Pris- 
cian,  Aristotle,  Tully,  and  Quintilian,  with  their  commen- 
tators :  theology  also  was  expounded  both  to  scholars  and 
to  the  people  on  Sundays  and  festivals  ;  so  that  persons 
flocked  to  these  fountains  of  literature,  thus  thrown  open, 
with  zeal  and  numbers  proportionate  to  that  abstinence 
from  instruction  to  which  they  had  been  long  subjected. 

Such  was  the  primitive  state  of  our  academical  insti- 
tutions. Those  statutable  privileges  and  liberal  endow- 
ments which  now  distinguish  us,  were  then  unknown  ;  but 
the  use  of  an  academical  habit,  as  well  as  the  power  of  con- 
ferring degrees  in  the  several  faculties,  may  be  traced  back 
to  the  earliest  periods.  Even  after  the  foundation  of  col- 
leges and  halls,  the  strange  intermixture  of  monastic  orders 
with  literary  bodies,  and  the  early  age  at  which  students 
were  admitted  at  the  university,  contributed  not  only  to 
create  strife  and  confusion,  but  to  retard  the  advancement 
of  science,  and  to  retain  the  errors  of  superstitious  bigotry. 
The  time  allotted  to  academical  studies,  before  admission 
to  each  degree,  seems  to  have  been  always  the  same  as  it 
is  at  the  present  day;  but  the  duties  of  university  officers 

*  This  barn  is  thought  still  to  exist  under  the  appellation  of  Py- 
thagoras's  school :  it  belongs  to  Merton  College,  Oxford,  and  has 
lately  been  turned  into  a  dwelling-house  :  the  arches  of  its  windows 
are  those  of  the  early  Norman  style. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


lix 


appear  to  have  undergone  considerable  alterations.  Ac- 
cording to  the  old  statutes,  three  public  lecturers  were  ap- 
pointed by  the  senate  to  impart  that  instruction  which  the 
youth  now  receive  from  their  college  tutors.  These  lec- 
turers were  selected  annually  from  the  Regent  Masters  of 
Arts,  to  read  publicly  in  the  schools,  to  the  students  of  the 
first  and  second  years,  humanity  ;  to  those  of  the  second 
year,  dialectics  also,  or  logic ;  to  those  of  the  third,  con- 
jointly with  the  incepting  bachelors  of  arts,  philosophy  : 
and  for  this  office  each  reader  received  a  stipend  of  £1.6*.  8d. 
The  times  and  manner  of  the  disputations,  &c.  were  regu- 
lated by  the  proctors. 

The  university  studies,  however,  did  not  then,  as  now, 
cease  with  the  degree  of  A.B.  No  person  was  admitted 
to  that  of  A.M.  unless  he  had  attended  public  lectures,  for 
three  years  after  hisdetermination,  in  Aristotle's  philosophy, 
and  had  kept  his  regular  acts  and  opponencies  in  the 
schools.  Lectures  also  in  theology,  together  with  disputa- 
tions, and  sermons  both  in  English  and  Latin,  were  indis- 
pensible  for  the  superior  degrees  of  B.D.  and  D.D.  By  one 
of  the  old  statutes,  we  learn  that  a  bachelor  of  arts  was  per- 
mitted to  incept  in  grammar,  if  he  had  duly  attended  gram- 
matical lectures  in  the  works  of  Priscian,  had  performed 
certain  exercises,  and  been  examined  by  three  masters  of 
arts.  After  these  ceremonies,  and  an  affidavit  made  that 
he  would  attend  additional  lectures  in  Priscian  for  the  space 
of  one  year,  he  was  presented  for  admission  to  the  proctors 
by  the  Magister  Grammatical,  or,  in  his  absence,  by  the 
Magister  Glomeriae,  an  official  personage  who  is  a  crux  to 
antiquarians. 

Some  time  before  the  Reformation,  when  the  ordinary 
studies  of  the  place  began  to  fall  into  neglect,  a  new  ordi- 


lx  BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 

nance  was  introduced  into  the  stalute  book,*  for  the 
appointment  of  a  course  of  lectures,  to  which  all  students 
were  admitted,  but  which  all  Bachelors  of  Arts  were 
obliged  to  attend :  their  subjects  were,  for  the  first  year 
arithmetic  and  music ;  for  the  second,  geometry  and  per- 
spective ;  and  for  the  third,  astronomy.  A  grace  also  was 
passed  in  1528  for  substituting  grammar  in  the  place  of 
philosophy,  at  the  public  disputations  held  every  Friday 
during  term. 

At  this  time  also  a  barbarous  Latin  jargon  was  the  ve- 
hicle of  written,  and  in  great  measure  of  oral  instruction 
also,  being  spoken  in  public  assemblies,  in  the  schools,  in 
the  senate-house,  and  even  in  private  colleges.  The  high- 
est aim  of  mathematical  knowlege  was  the  investigation  of 
unprofitable  secrets,  and  the  cultivation  of  judicial  astro- 
logy :  even  Aristotle  himself,  that  idol  of  scholastic  dispu- 
tants, was  studied  only  through  the  mist  of  his  translators 
and  commentators,  the  number  of  whom  became  multiplied 
to  such  a  degree,  that  Patricius  reckons  up  near  12,000 
about  the  end  of  the  16th  century. 

Such  was  the  general  state  of  learning  in  our  univer- 
sities, when  the  blessed  light  of  the  Reformation  burst 
through  the  gloom  which  hung  over  the  avenues  of  real 
knowlege.  That  great  event  was  accompanied  by  the 
revival  of  a  purer  literature,  which  was  quickly  established 
by  a  phalanx  of  scholars  at  Cambridge  ;  and  then  the  ab- 
surdities of  that  scholastic  theology,  which  had  so  long 
enslaved  the  intellect  of  mankind,  were  successfully  com- 
bated ;  the  best  authors  of  Greece  and  Rome  were  taught 
and  illustrated  by  critical  and  philological  erudition  ;  whilst 


*  See  Statuta  Antiq.  p.  65. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


the  archives  of  Christianity  were  purified  under  their 
auspices,  and  truth  was  re-instated  on  the  throne  of  her 
supremacy.  From  the  dawn  of  science  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  VIII.,  the  day-spring  of  knowlege  brightened 
throughout  that  of  his  son  and  successor.  At  the  acces- 
sion of  Queen  Mary  indeed,  ignorance  and  superstition  for 
a  time  resumed  their  sway,  and  many  of  the  great  restorers 
of  learning  felt  the  severity  of  that  fate  which  threw  them 
on  times,  when  literature  rose  or  fell  with  court  factions, 
or  changed  according  to  the  disposition  of  princes  and  the 
alteration  of  religion. 

True  religion  however,  and  knowlege,  its  best  companion, 
revived  with  fresh  lustre  under  the  auspices  of  Eliza- 
beth and  the  direction  of  her  sage  counsellor  Burleigh,  a 
statesman  who  had  happily  imbibed  excellent  principles 
during  his  residence  at  St.  John's  College ;  a  seminary 
which  about  this  time  acquired  that  distinguished  reputa- 
tion for  theological  attainments  which  it  has  so  nobly  sup- 
ported through  succeeding  generations.* 

In  that  happy  era,  the  statutes  which  prevail  at  this  day 
in  the  university,  were,  after  diligent  revisions  and  amend- 
ments, finally  established.  We  may  pass  over  that  part 
of  them  which  relates  to  its  incorporation,  as  our  business 
is  with  those  alone  which  relate  to  the  advancement  of  a 
learned  and  religious  education.  These  weighty  interests 
indeed  had  been  very  successfully  attended  to  in  the  sta- 
tutes of  Henry  VIII.  and  of  his  amiable  but  short-lived 
successor;  wherein  we  find  that  the  theological  professor 


*  Barrow  alludes  to  tbis  well-deserved  fame  of  his  rival  college, 
when  speaking  of  Mr.  H.  Lucas,  who  had  been  a  member  of  St. 
John's.    Sec  Opusc.  p.  79. 


Ixii 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


was  ordered  to  read  publicly  the  scriptures  only ;  the  phi- 
losophical lecturer  was  confined  to  the  problematci,  ?no- 
ralia,  or politica  of  Aristotle,  to  Pliny,  and  to  Plato:  the 
arithmetic  of  Tunstall  and  Cardan,  together  with  Euclid's 
geometry,  was  selected  for  the  professor  of  mathematics : 
the  elenchi  of  Aristotle,  the  topica  of  Cicero,  and  the  works 
of  Quintilian,  for  the  reader  in  rhetoric  and  logic  ;  whilst 
the  Greek  professor  was  obliged  to  expound  the  writings 
of  Homer,  Demosthenes,  Isocrates,  Euripides,  or  any  other 
of  the  purest  classical  authors.  The  order  of  study  pre- 
scribed to  the  students  was  as  follows : 

To  the  first  year  arithmetic,  geometry,  astronomy,  and 
geography  :  to  the  second,  logic ;  and  to  the  third  and 
fourth,  philosophy.  During  this  course,  each  candidate 
for  the  degree  of  A.B.  was  obliged  to  keep  two  opponen- 
cies  and  two  acts  in  the  public  schools,  as  well  as  to  under- 
go the  customary  examination. 

An  extended  progress  in  the  above  named  sciences,  to- 
gether with  public  disputations,  as  well  as  an  assiduous  at- 
tendance on  those  held  by  Masters  of  Arts  during  three 
years,  was  exacted  from  all  Bachelors  of  Arts  before  they 
proceeded  to  their  next  degree ;  neither  was  the  Master 
who  aspired  to  a  higher  degree  of  academical  dignity,  per- 
mitted to  remain  idle :  he  was  remanded  to  the  study  of 
theology  for  the  next  five  years,  with  a  daily  attendance 
on  the  Hebrew  lecture,  besides  his  acts,  opponencies,  ser- 
mon, and  clerum,  which  were  all  demanded  before  he 
could  take  his  degree  of  B.D.  If  he  aimed  at  the  highest 
step,  that  of  Doctor  in  Divinity,  (which  at  this  time  was 
held  in  little  less  estimation  than  a  patent  of  nobility,)  he 
was  obliged  to  attend  daily  the  divinity  lectures,  during 
four  years  of  probation,  besides  a  variety  of  other  exer- 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


Ixiii 


cises :  even  after  this  last  degree,  post  tot  naufragia,  peri- 
cula,  and  examina,  (as  the  old  statute  book  expresses  it,) 
he  was  under  the  necessity  of  preaching  a  Latin  sermon, 
and  of  holding  an  annual  disputation  in  the  schools  "  on 
some  dubious  and  subtile  question,"  if  he  resided  in  the 
University. 

In  the  last  body  of  statutes  given  to  the  university  by 
Queen  Elizabeth,  A.  D.  1570,  the  principal  alterations 
therein  made  relate  only  to  discipline  ;  none  are  observ- 
able in  those  connected  with  the  studies  of  the  youth,  and 
very  few  with  those  of  superior  standing.  The  disputa- 
tions in  the  Sophs  Schools  were  arranged  almost  after  the 
same  manner  in  which  they  now  exist,  and  a  Moderator 
Scholas,  together  with  two  Examiners  of  the  Questionists, 
was  appointed  ;  but  a  more  correct  idea  may  be  formed 
of  the  method  of  study  pursued  at  this  period,  from  an 
extract  taken  out  of  a  scarce  work  published  at  Cambridge, 
in  the  year  1769,  from  a  vellum  MS.  intitled  "  a  projecte 
contayninge  the  state,  order,  and  manner  of  government 
of  the  University  of  Cambridge,  as  now  it  is  to  be  seen 
in  the  three  and  fortieth  yeare  of  the  Raigne  of  our  Most 
Gracious  and  Soveraigne  Lady  Queen  Elizabeth."  After 
a  full  account  of  all  the  officers  of  the  University,  we  come 
to  the  article  of  "  Lecturers  for  the  instruction  of  the 
younger  sort  of  scholars,  as  namely, 

/"    To  read  the  precepts  of  Rethoricke 
One  Rethoricke  Ym  one  of  the  common  scholes,  in  such 
Lecturer.       Isorte  as  is  fit  for  younge  scholers  at 
V  their  first  coming  to  the  University. 
q     ^    .    C    To  teach  the  use  of  Logicke  by  publique 
^  readeing  in  the  scholes  unto  such  as  are  of 
the  2nd  and  3rd  years  continuance. 


Reader. 


Ixiv 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


r    To  read  a  Philosophie  Lecture,  either 
One  Philosophie  J  of  morale,  politique,  or  natural  philoso- 
Reader.       J  phie,  unto  the  Sophisters  and  Bacchelers 
V»of  Arte,  thereunto  resorting  by  statute. 

-     To  read  the  arte  of  Arithmeticke, 
One  Mathematical  lof  Geometrie>  of  Cosmograpie,  or  of 
Reader  \  Astronomy,  in  such  sort  as  is  fit  for 

#his  auditory,  being  also  of  Sophisters 
and  Bacchelers  of  Arte." 
These  four  lecturers  still  exist  under  the  title  of  Bar- 
naby  Lecturers,  whose  office  was  no  sinecure  in  the  times 
of  which  we  are  treating,  although  it  has  now  lapsed  into 
the  official  duties  of  the  college  tutor.  Similar  instruc- 
tions to  those  above  quoted  are  given  for  the  direction  of 
Readers  in  Divinity,  Hebrew,  Greek,  Civil  Law,  and  Me- 
dicine, instituted  by  King  Henry  VIII.,  and  who  are 
called  "  Lecturers  for  the  increase  of  knowlege  in  the 
more  ancient  students,"  as  well  as  the  Divinity  Reader,  and 
an  University  Preacher,  who  is  ordered  "  to  preache  at 
Paule's  Cross,  and  at  other  places  thereunto  named  and 
appointed  :"  both  of  these  offices  were  founded  by  Lady 
Margaret,  mother  of  King  Henry  VII.  Although  an  evi- 
dent improvement  had  now  taken  place  in  academical 
studies  and  discipline,  and  although  the  pursuits  of 
science  were,  in  a  great  measure,  detached  from  that  scho- 
lastic method  which  had  so  long  held  reason  in  chains, 
still  there  was  too  much  time  and  labor  expended  in  sub- 
tile questions  and  vain  disputations,  held  more  for  the  sake 
of  confuting  an  antagonist  and  the  gratification  of  literary 
vanity,  than  for  the  promotion  of  real  knowlege.  The 
greatest  philosophers,  and  the  highest  characters  of  the 
age,  frequently  indulged  in  the  exercises  of  this  palaestra 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


lx\ 


to  a  most  preposterous  extent  ;  instigated  no  doubt  by  the 
applauses  which  were  so  lavishly  poured  on  victorious  com- 
batants by  admiring  contemporaries.  Haddon,  in  a  letter 
to  Dr.  Cox,  speaking  of  a  public  disputation  held  by  Sir 
Thomas  Smith  at  a  Cambridge  commencement,  bursts  out 
into  the  following  rapturous  exclamations:  "  Had  he 
(Dr.  Cox)  been  there,  he  would  have  heard  another  So- 
crates ;  that  he  caught  the  forward  disputants,  as  it  were, 
in  a  net  with  his  questions  ;  and  that  he  concluded  the 
most  profound  cases  of  philosophy  with  great  gravity  and 
deep  knowlege." 

At  length  a  higher  order  of  philosophy  arose,  and  the 
dogmas  of  the  Divine  Doctors,  and  of  the  Irrefragable 
Doctors,  soon  vanished  into  air.  The  great  Bacon  com- 
menced his  academical  career  about  the  end  of  the  six- 
teenth century;  his  intellect  instantly  discovered  all  the 
imperfections  of  the  reigning  Aristotelian  system  of  phi- 
losophy, together  with  their  causes ;  nor  did  his  compre- 
hensive mind  rest  till  he  had  effected  that  change  which 
placed  knowlege  on  the  firmest  foundations.  At  a  very 
early  age,  this  extraordinary  man  was  heard  to  say  "  that 
his  exceptions  against  that  great  philosopher  (Aristotle) 
were  founded  not  on  the  worthlessness  of  the  author,  to 
whom  he  would  ever  ascribe  all  high  attributes,  but  on  the 
unfruitfulness  of  the  ways,  being  a  philosophy  only  for  dis- 
putations and  contentions,  but  barren  in  the  production  of 
works  for  the  benefit  of  the  life  of  man."  It  was,  how- 
ever, easier  for  the  genius  of  a  Bacon  to  discover  the  er- 
rors of  a  system,  than  to  remove  the  prejudices  of  its  sup- 
porters ;  yet  the  power  of  truth,  as  must  ever  be  the  case, 
gradually  prevailed  ;  and  about  the  middle  of  the  seven- 


lxviii 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


The  sentiments  and  instructions  of  this  great  philosopher 
on  the  subject  of  philosophy  in  general,  and  of  mathema- 
tical science  in  particular,  appear  at  large  in  an  excellent 
speech  which  seems  to  have  been  spoken  by  him  at  a  com- 

learned  publications,  both  by  Whistou  and  by  Saunderson,  his  im- 
mediate successor  in  the  professorial  chair.  So  early  as  1694,  the 
celebrated  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke,  then  an  undergraduate,  defended  in 
the  schools  a  question  taken  from  Newton's  Philosophy,  and  in 
three  years  afterwards  he  published  a  translation  of  Rohault's  Phy- 
sics, in  which  work  many  errors  of  the  Cartesian  system  are  cor- 
rected by  annotational  references  to  that  of  Newton.  He  also 
translated  the  Optics  of  this  great  philosopher,  at  his  particular  re- 
quest, in  1707,  the  same  year  in  which  the  appointment  of  Cotes,  the 
friend  and  admirer  of  Newton,  to  the  office  of  Plumian  Professor, 
contributed  to  extend  the  popularity  of  his  discoveries,  and  to  esta- 
blish that  predominating  influence  which  Mathematics  and  Natural 
Philosophy  were  now  beginning  to  acquire  in  academical  educa- 
tion. 

Soon  after  this  time  public  acts  were  commonly  held  in  the  Prin- 
cipia,  from  w  hich  subjects  were  taken,  not  only  for  disputation  by 
the  moderators,  but  for  lectures  by  the  college  tutors.  At  length, 
about  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  mathematical  science  began 
to  occupy  almost  undivided  attention  at  Cambridge,  and  to  throw 
every  other  subject  into  the  back-ground.  The  celebrated  Waring, 
who  filled  the  Lucasian  chair  in  1759,  by  his  profound  analytical  re- 
searches infused  a  larger  portion  of  pure  mathematics  into  the 
public  examinations,  and  of  course  into  the  preparatory  studies  of 
the  youth.  Those  examinations  had  for  some  years  taken  a  de- 
cidedly mathematical  turn,  and  peculiar  honorary  distinctions  were 
conferred  on  the  questionists  according  to  their  proficiency  in  these 
abstruse  sciences  ;  and  thus  Cambridge  became  almost  exclusively 
a  nursery  for  mathematicians,  pushing  philosophy  itself  to  a  vicious 
excess,  and  bending  the  most  opposite  dispositions  to  the  torture  of 
theorems  and  problems.  It  is  not  indeed  denied  that  the  genius  of 
classical  literature  has,  through  all  periods,  distinguished  this  illus- 
trious seat  of  science,  from  the  days  of  Cheke  and  Ascham,  of  Milton 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


Ixix 


mencement  of  the  Bachelors  of  Arts.  It  is  evident  also 
that  the  studies  of  the  university  were  at  this  time  under- 
going- a  change,  from  the  following  passage :  Erga  hanc 
Dei  Opt.  Max.  pulcherrimam  filiam  qutim  sincere  vos  sitis 

and  Gray,  of  Barrow  and  Pearce,  of  Bentley  and  Poison,  to  those 
of  a  living  host  of  scholars,  who  still  adorn  its  annals  and  extend  its 
fame  :  but  the  cultivation  of  mathematical  knowledge  has  been  ex- 
clusive, whilst  that  of  classical  literature  has  been  straitened  and 
confined,  nay,  almost  Jortuitous :  for  although  the  establishment  of 
scholarships,  medals,  and  other  rewards,  for  the  encouragement  of 
the  UttercB  humaniores,  were  instituted  very  soon  after  the  cultiva- 
tion of  mathematical  science  became  excessive,  still  these  honorable 
distinctions  formed,  as  it  were,  objects  of  emulation  to  a  few,  rather 
than  stimulants  of  industry  to  the  mass,  and  they  have  generally 
been  the  rewards  of  previous  merit  rather  than  of  succeeding  appli- 
cation. 

At  length,  however,  the  force  of  prejudice,  and  the  deep-rooted 
laws  of  custom,  have  given  way  to  the  enlightened  spirit  of  the  age, 
and  Mathesis  has  admitted  a  partner  to  her  throne;  one  too,  qualem 
decet  esse  sororem.  The  youth  at  Cambridge  are  now  examined  in 
classical  literature  previously  to  their  degree;  are  examined  in 
it,  conjointly  with  mathematics,  for  the  degree  of  A.  B. ;  and  are 
allowed  a  competition  for  classical  honors  in  a  tripos,  after  that  de- 
gree is  completed. 

If  a  pertinacious  adherence  to  established  system  led  the  members 
of  our  university  to  oppose  the  intrusion  of  visionary  theories, 
whose  very  projectors,  were  they  established  one  day,  would  assail 
them  the  next;  nay,  if  they  even  made  Truth  herself  wait  at  the 
portal  of  their  sanctuary  until  her  claims  for  admission  were  inves- 
tigated, they  deserve  the  thanks  of  every  one  who  wishes  to  keep 
the  bulwarks  of  sound  learning  and  religion  firm  on  their  founda- 
tions, admitting  such  alterations  in  the  superstructure  as  time  and 
circumstances  may  require. 

But  the  authors  of  the  change  need  not  fear  the  overthrow  of 
their  venerable  institutions :  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  the  studies 
of  abstract  science  from  flourishing  vigorously  in  conjunction  with 


1\\ 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


animali,  vel  propensus  iste  offectus  indicare  potest,  quo 
nuperriml  mathematicas  scientias  veritati  unict  charas 
dilectasque  colere  ccepistis.  Macti  estote,  Academici,  tarn 
insigni  et  laudabili  studio.* 

We  have  seen  that  Barrow,  after  having  introduced,  and 
stimulated  the  academic  world  to  pursue,  an  improved 
system  of  philosophical  study,  yielded  his  professorial  chair 
to  that  friend  whose  occupation  of  it  has  rendered  it  one 

those  of  classical  and  theological  literature  :  by  the  list  of  Cambridge 
honors  we  find  that  the  best  classical  scholars  have  invariably  dis- 
tinguished themselves  in  mathematical  pursuits,  and  two  of  the 
most  eminent  prelates  who  now  adorn  the  English  Bench,  obtained 
the  highest  honors  in  both  departments.  Besides,  it  is  absurd 
to  suppose  that  a  short  time,  taken  from  the  study  of  abstract 
science,  and  applied  to  other  pursuits,  can  ever  injure  the  talents, 
or  diminish  the  acquirements  of  a  mathematical  genius  :  so  far, 
otherwise,  it  will  strengthen  and  increase  them  by  operating  as  a 
species  of  mental  relaxation,  and  may  even  prevent  the  bodily 
conslitution  from  sinking,  as  it  often  does,  under  the  pressure  of 
intense  application  to  one  difficult  and  fatiguing  study.  And  if 
it  does  diminish  the  quantity  of  science  which  has  of  late  been  ac- 
quired by  the  candidates  for  high  academical  honors,  it  will  act 
equally  and  impartially,  at  the  time,  on  all,  nor  will  it  prohibit  any 
of  them  from  ultimately  arriving  at  the  highest  point  of  their  ambi- 
tion :  it  will  never  diminish  the  number  of  our  Saundersons,  our 
Coteses,  and  our  Newtons  ;  nay,  even  if  it  should  have  this  effect,  a 
lesser  good  would  still  be  sacrificed  to  a  greater ;  for  an  establish- 
ment like  our  university  must  look,  not  so  much  to  the  exhibition 
of  a  few  splendid  names  on  its  annals,  as  to  the  general  improvement 
of  all  the  youth  committed  to  its  management:  these  are  to  be  ren- 
dered, as  far  as  possible,  useful  and  respectable  members  of  society; 
the  natural  bent  of  their  studious  inclinations  is  in  a  certain  degree 
to  be  accommodated;  and  all  excuses  for  indolence  and  apathy  are 
to  be  removed. 
*  Opusc.  p.  I2C. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


Ixxi 


of  the  highest  honors  that  Science  can  bestow  on  her  most 
favored  sons.  With  respect  to  himself,  he  devoted  his 
powerful  mind  and  vast  acquirements  to  the  service  of 
religion,  whilst  he  adorned  its  doctrines  by  the  purity  and 
holiness  of  his  life.  He  soon  acquired  the  reputation  of 
an  admirable  preacher;  though  Dr.  Pope  relates  some 
curious  scenes  which  occurred,  as  well  by  reason  of  his 
strange  attire  and  attenuated  aspect,  (for  he  was  not  only 
worn  down  by  study,  but  slovenly  in  his  dress,)  as  by  the 
detention  of  his  congregation,  and  his  discourses  of  an  un- 
conscionable length.  In  one  instance,  when  he  preached 
for  Dr.  Wilkins  at  St.  Lawrence-Jewry,  so  uncouth  and 
unpromising  was  his  appearance,  that  the  congregation 
scampered  out  of  church  before  he  could  begin  his  sermon  : 
the  good  doctor  however,  taking  no  notice  of  this  distur- 
bance, proceeded,  named  his  text,  and  preached  away  to 
the  two  or  three  that  were  gathered,  or  rather  left  together  ; 
of  which  number  it  happened  that  Mr.  Baxter,  the  eminent 
non-conformist,  was  one,  who  afterwards  declared  to  Dr. 
Wilkins  that  he  never  listened  to  a  better  discourse : 
amongst  those  also  that  remained  was  a  young  man  who 
appeared  like  an  apprentice,  or  the  foreman  of  a  shop,  and 
who  pleased  Barrow  greatly  by  accosting  him  with  these 
words  of  encouragement,  as  he  came  down  from  the 
pulpit :  Sir,  be  not  dismayed,  for  I  assure  you  'twas  a  good 
sermon.  When  several  parishioners  came  to  expostu- 
late with  Dr.  Wilkins  on  his  suffering  such  an  ignorant 
scandalous  person  to  have  the  use  of  his  pulpit,  he  referred 
them  to  Mr.  Baxter,  who  candidly  praised  the  sermon  as  it 
deserved,  declaring  that  he  could  willingly  have  been  an 
auditor  all  the  day  long.  Confounded  and  put  to  shame 
by  this  judgment  from  a  person  whom  they  acknowleged 


lxxii  BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 

as  their  superior,  they  soon  confessed  that  they  had  not 
heard  a  word  of  the  discourse  which  they  thus  abused,  and 
began  earnestly  to  entreat  their  rector  that  he  would  pro- 
cure Dr.  Barrow's  services  again,  promising  to  make  him 
amends  by  bringing  their  whole  families  to  his  sermon. 
All  persons,  however,  had  not  the  patience  of  the  worthy 
non-conformist,  as  was  evident  when  Barrow  was  preach- 
ing on  a  certain  holiday  at  Westminster  Abbey;  for  the 
servants  of  that  church,  who  were  then  accustomed  to 
show  the  waxen  effigies  of  the  kings  and  queens,  between 
services  on  holidays,  to  crowds  of  the  lower  orders,  per- 
ceiving the  Doctor  in  the  pulpit  long  after  the  hour  was 
past,  and  fearing  to  lose  that  time  in  hearing  which  they 
thought  could  be  so  much  more  profitably  employed  in 
receiving,  became  so  impatient,  that  they  caused  the  organ 
to  be  struck  up  against  him,  and  would  not  cease  till  they 
had  blown  him  down.  Can  Dr.  Pope  however  be  credited, 
when  he  assures  us  that  his  spittle-sermon  before  the  Lord 
Mayor  and  Aldermen  occupied  three  hours  and  a  half? 
One  is  almost  tempted  to  suppose  that  the  customary  invi- 
tation to  dinner  had  been  forgotten,  and  that  the  preacher 
took  this  ingenious  method  of  revenging  himself  for  the 
neglect.  Being  asked  on  that  occasion,  when  he  came 
down  from  the  pulpit,  whether  he  was  not  tired,  his  reply 
is  said  to  have  been— "Yes  indeed,  I  began  to  be  weary 
with  standing  so  long."  He  took  infinite  pains  with  his 
compositions,  transcribing  them  over  and  over  again  ;  for 
he  well  knew  the  force  of  that  Horatian  precept,  which 
says,  ludentis  speciem  dabit  et  torquebitur ;  and  that  he 
generally  pleases  his  readers  most  who  has  given  himself 
the  most  trouble  to  please  them.  Amongst  other  methods 
which  he  took  for  infusing  a  spirit  of  eloquence  into  his 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


Ixxiii 


discourses,  was  that  of  copying  out  the  finest  passages  of 
classical  and  ecclesiastical  writers,  particularly  Demosthenes 
and  Chrysostom ;  whence  he  formed  a  magazine  of  rich 
materials,  from  which  he  might  draw  out  stores  for  all 
subjects.  His  manuscripts  in  Trinity  College  bear  ample 
testimony  to  this  practice,  a  very  considerable  portion  of 
them  being  occupied  by  those  excerpta.  By  such  diligence 
he  acquired  that  copious  and  majestic  style  which  induced 
the  illustrious  Lord  Chatham  to  recommend  the  study  of 
Barrow's  sermons  to  his  still  more  illustrious  son  ;*  by  this 
he  also  has  acquired  those  profound  views  on  theological 
subjects,  which  induced  Warburton  himself  to  declare 
that  in  reading  Barrow  he  was  obliged  to  think.  His 
indefatigable  habits  of  study,  and  his  own  appreciation  of 
the  fruits  of  it,  are  thus  pleasantly  enough  described  by 
Dr.  Pope.f  "  All  the  while  he  continued  with  the  Bishop 
of  Salisbury  I  was  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  his  only  business,  to  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  half  a  foot,  and  said  to  him,  What  have  you  got  in 
your  pockets?    He  replied,  Sermons.    Sermons,  said  I ; 

•  He  read  Barrow's  Sermons  at  the  desire  of  Lord  Chatham, 
who  thought  them  admirably  adapted  to  furnish  the  cupia  verbo- 
rum.    Tomline's  Life  of  Pitt,  Vol.  i.  p.  13.  8vo. 

t  Life  of  Bishop  Ward,  p.  143. 


Ixxiv 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


give  them  to  me;  my  boy  shall  carry  them  in  his  port  man- 
teau,  and  ease  you  of  that  luggage.  But,  said  be,  suppose 
your  boy  should  be  robbed?  That's  pleasant ;  said  I :  do 
you  think  there  are  persons  padding  on  the  road  for  ser- 
mons?—  Wliy,  what  have  you?  said  he.  It  may  be  five 
or  six  guineas.  I  hold  my  sermons  at  a  greater  rate,  for 
they  cost  me  much  pains  and  time. —  Well  then,  said  T,  if 
you'll  secure  my  Jive  or  six  guineas  against  lay-padders, 
I'll  secure  your  sermons  against  ecclesiastical  highwaymen. 
This  was  agreed  ;  he  emptied  his  pockets,  and  filled  my 
portmanteau  with  his  divinity,  and  we  had  the  good  fortune 
to  come  safe  to  our  journey's  end,  and  to  bring  both  our 
treasures  to  London."  Dr.  Pope  farther  informs  us,  "that 
he  was  unmercifully  cruel  to  a  lean  carcass,  not  allowing  it 
sufficient  meat  or  sleep  :"  that  "  during  the  winter  months, 
and  some  part  of  the  rest,  he  rose  before  it  was  light,  being 
never  without  a  tinder-box ;"  and  that  he  has  known  him 
frequently  to  rise  after  his  first  sleep,  light  and  burn  out 
his  candle,  and  then  return  to  bed  before  day.* 

Soon  after  his  resignation  of  the  Lucasian  professor- 
ship, Barrow's  uncle,  who  had  been  translated  to  the  see 
of  St.  Asaph,  gave  him  a  small  sinecure  in  Wales,  and  Dr. 
Seth  Ward,  bishop  of  Salisbury,  who  highly  esteemed  his 
character,  and  delighted  in  his  society,  collated  him  to  the 
prebend  of  Yatminster  in  his  cathedral.  Just  before  he 
received  this  piece  of  preferment,  Dr.  Pope  heard  him  say, 
I  ivish  I  had  Jive  hundred  pounds.  He  replied,  That's  a 
great  sum  for  a  philosopher  to  desire;  what  would  you  do 
with  so  much  f   I  would  give  it,  said  he,  to  my  sister  for  a 

*  Mr.  Hill  declares  that  lie  saw  written  with  Barrow's  own  hand 
at  the  end  of  his  Apollonius,  April  14.  Intra  hac  temporis  inter, 
valla  peractum  hoc  opus.  Mail  10. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


Ixxv 


portion,  and  that  would  procure  her  a  good  husband. 
This  sum,  a  few  months  afterwards,  he  actually  received 
for  puttiug  a  new  life  into  the  corps  of  his  prebend  ;*  after 
which  he  resigned  it  to  Mr.  Corker,  one  of  the  fellows  of 
Trinity,  who  was  succeeded  in  it  by  Dr.  Colbatch.  He 
also  resigned  his  sinecure,  the  profits  of  which,  as  well  as 
those  of  his  stall,  were  always  applied  by  him  to  charitable 
purposes  :  so  much  did  his  mind  soar  above  the  sordid  love 
of  gain. 

In  the  year  1670  he  had  been  created  D.D.  by  royal 
mandate,  and  on  the  promotion  of  Dr.  John  Pearson  to 
the  see  of  Chester,  Barrow  attained  the  utmost  height  of 
his  wishes,  in  the  mastership  of  his  college,  on  which  he 
entered  February  27,  1672,  about  four  years  after  his  old 
friend  Dr.  Duport  had  been  restored  to  the  bosom  of  Alma 
Mater  as  head  of  Magdalene.  When  the  king  advanced 
Barrow  to  this  dignity,  for  which  he  was  indebted  neither 
to  the  cabals  of  party,  nor  to  the  caprice  of  fortune,  his  Ma- 
jesty was  pleased  to  observe,  with  great  justness  of  remark, 
that  he  had  given  it  to  the  best  scholar  in  his  kingdom ; 
an  opinion  not  founded  altogether  on  common  report ;  for 
the  Doctor  had  been  some  time  one  of  the  court  chaplains, 
and  had  on  several  occasions  held  conversations  with  the 
king,  who  good-humoredly  called  him  an  unfair  preacher ; 
since  he  so  intirely  exhausted  his  subject  as  to  leave  room 
for  no  one  to  come  after  him. 

The  patent  for  his  mastership  having  been  drawn  up  for 

*  A  copy  of  the  indenture  made  for  this  purpose  between  Dr. 
Barrow  and  Mr.  Sergeant  Strode,  of  Leweston,  in  the  county  of 
Dorset,  is  preserved  in  Cole's  Mss.  Vol.  xxix.  p.  36.  Barrow  was 
installed  May  16,  1671.,  and  was  the  thirty-eighth  prebendary  from 
the  foundation;  the  first  was  Win,  St.  John,  who  died  in  1297. 


lxxvi 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  01 


him,  as  it  had  been  for  some  others,  with  a  permission  to 
marry,  he  had  that  clause  erased,  considering  it  contrary  to 
the  intent  of  the  statutes,  from  which  he  desired  no  sort  of 
dispensation.  In  truth  he  had  determined  to  dedicate  him- 
self intirely  to  the  interests  of  his  college,  which  was  to  him, 
as  Hector  was  to  Helen,  in  place  of  all  other  relatives :  so 
completely  did  he  justify  the  sentiment  of  his  old  shipmate, 
the  captain  of  the  vessel  in  which  he  sailed  from  Leghorn  ; 
a  jovial  tar,  with  whom  Barrow  seems  to  have  been  a  great 
favorite,  and  who  used  sometimes,  when  the  wine  circu- 
lated after  dinner  in  the  cabin,  jocosely  to  pledge  him  in 
the  name  of  his  mistress,  the  college.  The  verses  in  which 
he  alludes  to  this  circumstance,  when  describing  the  honest 
captain's  convivial  qualities,  are  not  among  the  worst  of  the 
composition. 

Ah  !  quoties  festo  cum  slridere  mensa  tumultu 

Couvivasque  inter  serpere  multa  salus 
Cceperat,  ille  tai,  dixit  mihi,  Cynthia  cordis 

Nulla  nec  imperium  Delia  mollis  habet. 
Collegium  tibi  pro  domina  est:  age,  pocula  plena, 

Pocula  dilectae  sume  dicata  tuae. 
Sic  pateram  accipiens  ut  nunquam  laetius  ullam, 

Plorima  pro  vestra  vota  salute  fero. 

No  sooner  was  Barrow  settled  in  his  lodge,  to  the  great 
joy  not  only  of  the  fellows,  but  of  the  university  and  all 
lovers  of  learning,  than  he  declined  some  allowances  usually 
made  to  his  predecessors  ;  and,  as  Dr.  Pope  observes,  to 
show  his  humility  and  care  of  the  college  revenue,  "  he 
remitted  to  them  the  charge  of  keeping  a  coach  for  his 
time,  which  they  had  done  a  long  while  before  for  other 
masters."  How  different  was  his  conduct  in  this  respect 
to  that  great  scholar  who  afterwards  occupied  his  place, 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


lxxvii 


and  whose  avarice  not  less  than  his  tyrannical  disposition 
kept  the  Society  in  a  state  of  tumult  and  misery  for  nearly 
half  a  century ! 

As  there  is  one  act  which  has  above  all  others  signal- 
ised Dr.  Barrow's  reign  at  Trinity,  I  shall  offer  no  ex- 
cuse for  dwelling  on  it  more  at  length.  For  some  time 
a  scheme  had  been  agitated  at  Cambridge  to  erect  a  theatre 
like  that  with  which  Archbishop  Sheldon  had  adorned  the 
sister  university;  and  which  would  have  been  better  adapted 
to  the  disputations  which  were  held  on  all  public  oc- 
casions within  the  walls  of  St.  Mary's  Church:  also  to 
provide  a  better  room  for  the  public  library,  which  had 
considerably  increased  ;  and  public  schools  more  suitable  to 
the  convenience  and  dignity  of  the  university.  As  similar 
projects  are  at  this  very  time  in  agitation,  and  plans 
from  some  of  the  most  eminent  architects  of  the  day 
have  been  actually  procured  for  the  erection  of  a  new 
library,  &c.  and  as  the  reader  may  not  dislike  to  compare 
them  with  the  ideas  entertained  by  our  ancestors  on 
such  a  subject,  I  have  extracted  the  following  passage  from 
an  oration  spoken  by  Dr.  Barrow  at  a  public  commence- 
ment, which  from  internal  evidence  seems  to  have  taken 
place  in  July  1G75.  Hisce  nimirum prailudiis  ad  ilia  viam 
sternimus,  spent  erigimus,  animosque  comparamus  augus- 
tiora  nostra  Reij) :  incrementa  ;  Theatrvm  utique  quod 
disputantium  jurgiis  hoc  templum  exoneret,  et  quo  sannio- 
num  ineptice  relegentur ;  Bibliothecam,  qua.  supellectilem 
nostram  librarian,  haud  sane  curtain,  apll  capiat,  et 
quam  tot  optimi  auctores  laxius  atque  liberius  incolant, 
tarn  arcto  limite  minus  atstuantes ;  Scholas  denique  pub- 
licas,  illustris  nostra  Reip :  amplitudine  dignas,  quibusque 
pulcherrimam  et  suavissimam  istam  Germanam  nostram, 


lxxviii 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


ut  mentis  indole  plurimum  referimus,  ita  vvltus  specie 
jjropius  uttingamus*  In  the  preceding  month  of  April  a 
grace  had  passed  the  Senate  to  appoint  a  syndicate,  con- 
sisting of  the  Vice-chancellor,  himself,  Dr.  Duport,  and 
fourteen  other  heads  or  Masters  of  Arts,  to  take  this 
plan  into  consideration  conjointly  with  a  legacy  left  by 
Dr.  Laney,  the  deceased  Bishop  of  Ely,  in  order  to  pro- 
mote it,  on  condition  that  it  was  begun  within  one  year 
after  his  death.!  Barrow,  with  bis  friend  Duport,  was 
convinced  that  this  great  work  might  be  effected  by  means 
of  a  subscription,  if  the  university  were  not  wanting  to 
itself ;  but  he  was  unable  to  infuse  a  proper  portion  of  his 
own  spirit  into  others  :  the  scheme  failed ;  and  it  was  left 
for  a  future  age  to  show  a  better  spirit,  and  perhaps  a 
better  taste,  in  the  erection  of  that  elegant  senate-house 
which  now  adorns  our  university.! 

Dr.  Barrow  however,  though  baffled  in  this  laudable 
enterprise,  was  resolved  to  show  the  practicability  of  his 
scheme,  by  adding  a  building  of  equal  beauty  and  extent 
to  his  own  college,  among  the  members  of  which  he  found 
greater  liberality,  and  a  more  just  appreciation  of  his 
designs.  "  Indeed,"  (says  Mr.  A.  Hill,)  "  it  were  a  dis- 
respect 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 

*  Opusc.  p.  346. 

f  Univ.  Reg.  for  1675. 

X  This  was  built  about  fifty  years  afterwards,  under  the  direction 
of  that  eminent  architect,  Sir  James  Burrowes,  Master  of  Caius 
College. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


Ixxix 


good  will  and  joy  they  received  a  master  younger  than 
any  of  themselves."  Accordingly  he  projected  a  new  and 
spacious  library,  and  wrote  with  his  own  hand  an  immense 
number  of  letters  to  the  most  wealthy  and  influential  per- 
sons connected  with  the  college  ;*  with  whom  he  was  so 
successful,  that  he  was  enabled  to  lay  the  foundation, 
though  unhappily  he  did  not  live  to  see  the  completion,  of 
that  splendid  edifice  which  adorns  the  western  side  of 
Neville's  Court,  and  is  one  of  the  architectural  glories  of 
his  friend  Sir  Christopher  Wren.  Dr.  Duport  having 
generously  given  200/.  towards  this  noble  undertaking, 
the  good  feelings  of  the  master  led  him  to  consent  that 
the  name  of  his  old  tutor  should  stand  first  on  the  list  of 
subscribers,  even  before  his  own.f  The  letters  written  on 
this  occasion  by  Dr.  Barrow  are  said  to  have  been  models 
of  composition  for  their  elegance  of  style  and  variety  of 

j{  expression.  He  also  took  the  trouble  of  sending  answers 
to  those  who  had  thus  seconded  his  views ;  and  it  is  a  pity 

i  that  the  hint  given  hy  Mr.  A.  Hill  was  uot  taken,  and 
those  autographs  returned  by  their  possessors,  to  be  kept 
in  the  college  archives. 

On  the  9th  of  November  17G5,  Dr.  Barrow  entered  on 

i  the  office  of  vice-chancellor.  The  Latin  oration  which  he 
delivered,  according  to  custom,  on  that  occasion,  contains 


*  What  a  contrast  is  here  between  Barrow  and  that  great  but 
tyrannical  character,  the  glory  and  disgrace  of  literature,  alluded  to 
above,  wbo  almost  robbed  his  fellows  when  he,  as  it  were,  forced 
them  to  contribute  their  whole  year's  income  towards  the  fitting  up 
of  the  chapel.    See  Dr.  Monk's  interesting  Memoir,  p.  162. 

f  Duport  left  his  books  at  his  decease  to  this  library.  See  the 
interesting  Memoir  of  him  by  Dr.  Monk,  in  the  Mus.  Crit.  Vol.  ii. 
p.  697. 


Ixxx  BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 

nothing  of  particular  moment  or  interest,  except  that  in 
the  exordium  he  seems  to  give  a  just  and  true  account  of 
his  own  inoffensive,  amiable,  retiring  disposition,  when  he 
urges  it  as  a  reason  why  he  is  unversed  in  public  business, 
and  unfit  to  handle  the  reins  of  authority.  He  adverts 
also  to  the  peculiar  difficulties  attending  every  kind  of 
government  in  those  times  of  lax  discipline,  rebellious 
spirit,  dissolute  habits,  and  extreme  licentiousness  ;  draw- 
ing a  vivid  picture  of  the  state  of  things,  and  earnestly  re- 
questing the  assistance  of  his  brother  heads  in  repressing 
any  examples  of  vicious  conduct  that  might  have  crept 
into  the  university. 

We  find  however,  from  a  very  beautiful  speech  made 
when  he  laid  down  his  office,  that  he  passed  through  it 
without  encountering  any  of  those  unpleasant  circum- 
stances which  he  had  anticipated;  but  he  expresses  no 
small  delight  in  casting  aside  the  trappings  of  authority, 
and  regaining  his  beloved  tranquillity  in  a  more  private 
station.  Hujus  ingruentis  latitia  causas  nihil  opus  est 
exponere:  quis  enim  portum  non  hilaris  ingreditur  ?  quis 
sibi  se  restitution  non  Icetabundus  excipit  ?  quern  non  de- 
lectet  eximi  jugo,  vel  emancipari  servitute,  tot  dominis 
addicta,  quorum  tam  difficile  sit  exequi  placita,  quam  sen- 
tentias  conciliare  ?  quis  invito  Minerva  susceptum  onus 
non  animo  adlubescente  deponat  ?  .  .  .  .  quis  demum  a 
fervido  rerum  ozstu  in  amcenam  umbram,  ab  obstreperis 
litibus  in  tranquillam  pacem,  ab  alienis  imporiunis  ne- 
gotiis  ad  sua  jucunda  studia  regresso  sibi  non  impense 
gratuletur  ?  Hence  the  source  of  his  joy  :  but  he  adds, 
that  there  is  a  grief  also,  which  he  experiences,  and  which 
arises  from  unpropitious  fate  not  having  allowed  him  to 
perform  any  act  worthy  of"  himself  or  of  the  university ; 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


lxxxi 


from  the  necessity  of  his  going  off  the  stage  more  like  to  the 
miserable  Galba,  than  to  the  admirable  Vespasian  ;  wherein 
he  probably  alludes,  in  as  gentle  a  manner  as  possible,  to 
the  failure  of  his  scheme  in  the  affair  of  the  theatre. 

Though  liberated  from  the  fatigues  of  public  business, 
Barrow  did  not  spare  his  mental  labor  ;  but  set  himself 
assiduously  to  work  on  that  admirable  treatise  respecting 
Papal  Supremacy,  which  alone  would  have  established  his 
reputation,  and  set  him  at  the  head  of  contr  oversial  writers. 
The  pains  which  he  took  with  this  noble  tract  were  im- 
mense ;  and  the  state  of  his  manuscripts  in  Trinity  Col- 
lege Library  shows  that  probably  no  piece  was  ever  com- 
posed more  studiously,  digested  more  carefully,  or  sup- 
ported by  more  numerous  and  powerful  authorities.  "  He 
understood  Popery,"  as  Mr.  Hill  his  biographer  rightly 
observes,  "  both  at  home  and  abroad :  he  had  narrowly 
observed  it  militant  in  England,  triumphant  in  Italy,  dis- 
guised in  France  :  he  had  earlier  apprehensions,  than  most 
others,  of  the  approaching  danger,  and  would  have  ap- 
peared with  the  forwardest  in  a  needful  time." 

Barrow's  opinion  of  Popery,  of  its  degrading  ordinances, 
and  of  the  evils  to  which  they  lead,  is  expressed  with  un- 
common force  and  severity  in  the  copy  of  hexameters 
which  he  sent  to  his  college  from  Paris :  nor  can  there  be 
any  doubt  that  a  man  like  him,  who  never  eagerly  coveted 
the  splendors  of  rank,  or  the  advantages  of  wealth,  would 
willingly  have  risked,  or  cheerfully  resigned,  all  earthly 
possessions  when  his  conscience  demanded  the  sacrifice. 
Unfortunately  for  the  University  and  mankind  at  large, 
his  life  was  not  protracted  long  enough  to  afford  him  this 
trial  of  his  faith  and  constancy.  Being  invited  to  preach 
the  Passion  Sermon  on  the  13th  of  April,  1677,  at  Guild- 
BAR.  vol.  I.  e 


Ixxxii  BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 

hall,  he  never  preached  but  once  more ;  for  he  fell  sick  of 
a  fever,  which  carried  him  off  on  the  4th  of  May  following : 
thus  the  last  public  act  of  a  life  spent  in  constant  prepara- 
tion for  eternity,  was  one  of  the  highest  duties  in  his  sa- 
cred profession  :  death  approached  him  when  he  was  in  the 
maturity  of  his  manhood,  and  at  the  height  of  his  worldly 
ambition  ;  but  approached  without  his  terrors ;  for  he  found 
him  like  a  vigilant  sentinel  ready  at  his  post,  and  only 
took  away  from  him  what  is  frail  and  transient,  to  esta- 
blish what  is  permanent  and  real.  His  latter  end  is  thus 
feelingly  described  by  Dr.  Pope  :  "  The  last  time  he  was 
in  Londou,  whither  he  came,  as  it  is  customary,  to  the 
election  of  Westminster  scholars,  he  went  to  Knights- 
bridge  to  give  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury  a  visit,  and  then 
made  me  engage  my  word  to  come  to  him  at  Trinity  Col- 
lege immediately  after  the  Michaelmas  ensuing.  I  cannot 
express  the  rapture  of  joy  I  was  in,  having,  as  I  thought, 
so  near  a  prospect  of  his  charming  and  instructive  conver- 
sation :  I  fancied  it  would  be  a  heaven  on  earth ;  for  he 
was  immensely  rich  in  learning,  and  very  liberal  and  com- 
municative of  it,  delighting  in.  nothing  more  than  to  im- 
part to  others,  if  they  desired  it,  whatever  he  had  attained 
by  much  time  and  study :  but  of  a  sudden  all  my  hopes 
vanished,  and  were  melted  like  snow  before  the  sun.  Some 
few  days  after  he  came  again  to  Knightsbridge,  and 
sate  down  to  dinner ;  but  I  observed  he  did  not  eat :  where- 
upon I  asked  him,  how  it  was  with  him.  He  answered 
that  he  had  a  slight  indisposition  hanging  about  him,  with 
which  he  had  struggled  two  or  three  days,  and  that  he 
hoped  by  fasting  and  opium  to  get  it  off,  as  he  had  re- 
moved another  and  more  dangerous  sickness  at  Constanti- 
nople some  years  before.  But  these  remedies  availed  him 
not :  his  malady  proved,  in  the  event,  an  inward,  malig- 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


Ixxxiii 


nant,  and  insuperable  fever,  of  which  he  died  May  4, 
1677,  in  the  47th  year  of  his  age,  in  mean  lodgings,  at  a 
sadler's,  near  Charing  Cross,  which  he  had  used  for  seve- 
ral years :  for  though  his  condition  was  much  bettered  by 
his  obtaining  the  mastership  of  Trinity  College,  yet  that 
had  no  bad  influence  on  his  morals ;  he  still  continued  the 
same  humble  person,  and  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to 
take  more  reputable  lodgings.  I  may  truly  say,  Multis 
ille  bonis  jlebilis  occidit ;  Nulli  jlebilior  quam  mihi." 

The  mortal  remains  of  this  illustrious  man  were  depo- 
sited in  the  south  wing  of  Westminster  Abbey  near  the 
western  wall,  where  his  friends  erected  a  marble  monu- 
ment to  his  memory,  with  a  bust  on  the  top,  and  the  fol- 
lowing inscription  in  front,  written  by  his  excellent  friend 
Dr.  John  Mapletoft,  one  of  the  Professors  of  Gresham 
College. 

ISAACUS  BARROW, 

S.  T.  P.  REGI  CAROLO  II.  A  SACRIS. 
Vir  prope  divinus,  et  vere  magnus,  si  quid  magni  habent 
Pietas,  probitas,  fides,  summa  eruditio,  par  modestia, 
Mores  sanctissimi  undequaque  et  suavissimi. 
Geometrise  Professor  Londini  Greshamensis, 
Graecae  Lingua?,  et  Matlieseos  apud  Cantabrigienses  suos. 
Cathedras  omnes,  ecclesiam,  gentem  ornavit. 
Collegium  S.  S.  Trinitatis  Praeses  illustravit, 
Jactis  bibliothecas  vere  regis;  fundamentis  auxit. 
Opes,  bonores,  et  universum  vitaj  ambitum, 
Ad  majora  nafus,  non  contempsit,  sed  reliquit  seculo. 
Deum,  quem  a  teneris  coluit,  cum  primis  imitatus  est 
Paucissimis  egendo,  benefaciendo  quam  plurimis, 
Etiam  posteris,  quibus  vel  mortuus  coneionari  non  desinit. 
CaBtera,  et  pene  majora  ex  scriptis  peti  possuut. 
Abi,  Lector,  et  aemulare. 
Obiit  iv.  die  Maii,  aim.  Dom.  mdclxxvh 

/Etat.  SU33  XLVII. 

Monurnentum  hoc  Amici  posuere. 


ixxxiv  BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 

"  In  this  epitaph,"  as  Mr.  A.  Hill  observes,  "  his  much 
esteemed  friend  Dr.  Mapletoft  doth  truly  describe  him : 
his  picture  was  never  made  from  the  life,  and  the  effigy  on 
his  tomb  doth  little  resemble  him."  Dr.  Ward  however 
contradicts  this  account  so  far  as  to  say,  that  although 
Barrow  never  could  be  prevailed  on  to  sit  for  his  picture, 
some  friends  found  means  to  get  it  taken  without  his 
knowlege,  whilst  they  engaged  his  attention  in  discourse. 
"  He  was  in  person,"  says  Mr.  Hill,  "of  the  lesser  size, 
and  lean  ;  of  extraordinary  strength  ;  of  a  fair  and  calm 
complexion,  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."  If  the  likeness 
prefixed  to  the  first  edition  of  Barrow's  works  by  his  friend 
Archbishop  Tillotson,  be  correct,  we  see  that  penetrating 
sagacity  of  intellect  and  that  amiable  spirit  of  goodness 
combined,  which  so  eminently  distinguished  the  original. 
If  it  be  not  so,  what  cause  has  posterity  for  regret,  whilst 
the  mind  of  the  man  may  be  so  accurately  traced  in  the 
indelible  record  of  his  glorious  writings  ? 

I  can  in  truth  delare,  that  in  no  human  character  which 
I  ever  investigated,  have  I  discovered  such  minute,  I 
may  say  imperceptible  traces  of  vice,  or  such  a  pervading 
love  of  virtue,  as  in  that  of  Isaac  Barrow.  Those  who 
knew  him  best,  bear  the  most  ample  testimony  to  his 
almost  faultless  disposition ;  and  Dr.  Pope,  who  had 
a  long  and  very  intimate  acquaintance  with  him,  need  not 
be  discredited,  when  he  affirms  that  he  can  find  no  fault 
to  allege  against  him,  but  that  he  was  a  little  too  long 
in  his  sermons.  Yet  in  those  sermons  what  a  rich  legacy 
has  he  left  to  his  countrymen !  What  an  unbounded  com- 
mand over  our  language  is  there  displayed !  what  a  va- 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


lxxxv 


rious  and  vigorous  style !  what  felicities  of  expression, 
what  beauties  of  imagery,  and  what  an  affluence  of  noble 
sentiments  !  Again,  what  tender  and  persuasive  earnest- 
ness do  we  discover  !  what  soul-stirring  exhortation  !  what 
powerful  denunciation  !  what  bright  views  of  religion,  and 
what  passages  of  intense  sublimity  !*  So  that  he  who  has 
not  perused  these  writings  may  be  said  not  to  know  the 
power  of  his  mother-tongue  ;  or  to  be  like  the  possessor  of 
a  field,  who  is  unacquainted  with  a  mine  of  richest  ore 
that  lies  beneath  its  surface.  Barrow's  discourses  are 
very  different  from  those  of  Sherlock,  but  equally  good  in 
their  kind  :  they  are  not  so  critically  correct — so  logical 
in  argument— so  accurate  in  arrangement — so  definite  in 
terms — so  free  from  repetitions,  or  even  from  imperfec- 
tions: for  the  very  sublimity  of  Barrow's  mind,  the  vasl|» 
extent  of  his  knowlege,  and  the  abundant  power  of  his  ima- 
gination, sometimes  hurry  him  on  towards  a  faulty  excess. 
He  does  not  always  stay  to  analyse  his  thoughts,  to  weigh 
scrupulously  his  modes  of  expression,  or  to  distinguish  ac- 
curately between  the  heads  and  propositions  of  his  dis- 
courses; but  if  those  discourses  be  not  always  well  ar- 
ranged, they  are  the  product  of  an  extraordinary  mind  ; 
they  are  the  out-pourings  of  a  strong  and  capacious  intel- 
lect ;  exuberant  streams,  or  rather  torrents,  of  eloquence  and 
sound  theology  sent  forth,  tanquam  ex  cathedra,  until  the 
very  powers  of  thought  and  the  varieties  of  language  seem 
to  be  exhausted.  It  may  also  be  observed  that  the  faults 
of  Barrow's  composition  are  much  more  apparent  to  a  per-  - 
son  who  reads  his  sermons  consecutively,  than  to  him  who 
takes  up  a  single  one  for  casual  perusal.    When  a  man 

*  I  will  only  refer  the  reader  to  the  close  of  the  first  sermon,  for 
proof  of  his  Miltonic  sublimily. 


lxxxvi 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OP 


writes  as  he  did,  not  for  publication,  but  for  preaching, 
and  for  the  inculcation  of  sound  principles  into  an  audience, 
repetitions  may  be  necessary,  tautology  allowed.  But  if  to 
Barrow's  eloquence  we  add  the  splendor  of  his  moral  cha- 
racter, a  studious  and  blameless  youth,  a  diligent  and  use- 
ful manhood,  principles  which  no  power  or  flattery  could 
shake,  freedom  from  the  love  of  lucre,  gratitude  to  friends, 
charity  and  condescension  to  all  below  him,  and  humility, 
which  was  doubly  meritorious  in  so  highly  gifted  a  mind  ; 
finally,  if  to  such  graces  and  endowments  we  subjoin  his 
sound  sense,  his  wisdom,  his  foresight,  and  knowlege  of 
mankind,  where  shall  we  look  for  his  superior  ?* 

And  even  in  this  world  he  gathered  the  blessed  fruits  of 
all  these  natural  and  acquired  virtues.  No  one  seems  to 
have  really  enjoyed  life  more  than  Barrow.  He  was  the 
delight  of  society,  and  men  took  a  pleasure  in  returning 
to  his  bosom  a  portion  of  that  happiness  which  they  de- 
rived from  his  company.  He  seems  actually  to  have  had 
no  enemies,  no  vexations.  Though  he  continued  steady 
in  his  principles  through  the  worst  of  times,  yet  so  upright 
was  his  conduct,  so  prudent  were  his  measures,  so  peace- 
able was  his  disposition,  and  so  commanding  were  his  ta- 
lents, that  faction  herself  smoothed  her  ruffled  brow  when 
he  appeared  ;  and  calumny  never  once  assailed  the  purity 
of  his  fame  f    Yet  though  he  was  too  humble  to  grasp  at 

*  He  came,  says  Archbishop  Tillotson  (in  the  preface  to  his 
works),  as  near  as  is  possible  for  humane  frailty  to  doe,  to  the  perfect 
idea  of  St.  James  his  perfect  man. 

t  If  I  could  hear  (says  Mr.  A.  Hill)  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  show  well  in  story  :  but  I  have  no  sha- 
dows to  set  off  my  piece. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


lxxxvii 


an  inordinate  share  of  human  goods,  too  wise  to  aspire 
after  a  splendid  dependence,  too  gentle  to  struggle  with  a 
jostling  crowd,  all  things  were  his:  and  when  we  contrast 
the  overflowing  joy  of  Barrow's  life  with  the  feverish 
state  of  him  who  is  an  ambitious  candidate  for  this  world's 
glories,  how  strongly  do  we  perceive  the  fulfilment  of  that 
promise  in  which  it  is  declared,  the  meek  shall  inherit 
the  earth. 

To  collect  farther  testimonies  to  the  excellence  of  his 
talents,  his  writings,  and  his  character,  would  be  a  super- 
fluous labor  :*  if  his  works  be  perused,  they  will  speak  for 
themselves  and  for  their  author.  A  few  of  his  opinions 
however  may  be  recorded,  whether  it  be  to  afford  instruc- 
tion, or  to  gratify  curiosity. 

He  is  said  to  have  been  a  great  enemy  to  those  pieces 
that  were  written  for  theatrical  representation  in  his  days; 
thinking,  and  not  without  reason,  that  they  were  a  princi- 
pal cause  of  the  licentiousness  then  so  prevalent :  his  own 
wit  was  pure  and  peaceable ;  and  as  for  satires,  he  wrote 
none. 

Notwithstanding  his  extensive  range  in  the  field  of  li- 
terature, science,  and  philosophy,  he  gave  it  as  his  opinion, 
(and  a  very  sound  one  it  is,)  that  general  scholars  please 
themselves  most,  but  those  who  prosecute  particular  sub- 
jects do  more  service  to  the  community. 

His  favorite  authors  appear  to  have  been  Sophocles,  De- 
mosthenes, and  Aristotle,  among  the  Greek  classics ;  Chry- 
sostom  among  the  Fathers;  and  Ovid  among  the  Latin 
poets.    "  The  greater  part  of  his  poems,"  says  Dr.  Pope, 

*  The  reader  may  find  some  in  the  Bibliolheque  Universale, 
T.  iii.  p.  325 :  in  the  preface  to  Pemberton's  View  of  Sir  Isaac  New- 
ton's Philosophy  :  in  Archbishop  Tillotson's  preface  to  his  works;  &c. 


lxxxviii 


BIOGRAPHICAL  MEMOIR  OF 


"  were  written  in  hexameter  and  pentameter  verses,  after 
the  manner  of  Ovid,  whom  he  had  in  great  esteem,  pre- 
ferring- him  even  before  the  divine  Virgil.  I  have  heard 
him  say  that  he  believed  Virgil  could  not  have  made  the 
Metamorphosis  so  well  as  Ovid  has :  concerning  which 
there  have  been  betwixt  us  several  sharp,  but  not  bitter 
disputes ;  for  herein  I  confess  I  differed  from  him,  though 
we  were,  as  to  all  other  things,  generally  speaking,  of  the 
same  mind,  as  Horace  says  of  his  friend  Fuscus  Aristius 
and  himself : 

 hac  in  re  scilicet  una 

Multum  dissimiles  ;  ad  caetera  pene  gemelli 
Fraternis  animis." 

In  a  very  excellent  speech  which  Barrow  made  to  the 
students  of  Trinity  College  on  his  appointment  to  the  Hu- 
manity Lecture,*  he  fully  confirms  this  statement  of  Dr. 
Pope,  when  he  gives  the  reasons  for  selecting  Ovid  as  the 
subject  of  his  lectures  : — 

"Ex  omni  choro  Authorum,  quem  una legeremus,  segre- 
gavi  Ovidium.  Torvum  enim  illud  et  morosum  Virgilianse 
majestatis  reveriti,  incertum  et  intricatum  Papiniani  tu- 
moris  abominati  sumus.  Et  Horatium,  saspe  suaviter  ne- 
quam,  dictisque  elegantibus  et  praeceptis  non  raro  lasciviag 
ac  intemperantia?  virus  admiscentem,  respuimus.  Quin  et 
ipsum  preeterire  ausi  sumus  Ciceronem,  subinde  dum  largo 
flumine  verborum  exundat,  rebus  et  sensibus  parcum .  Quidni 
igitur  Ovidium  in  manus  sumerem  ?  Ovidium  dixi,  imo 
potius  Genium  quendam  ingenii  ac  eloquentia?  in  humana 

*  It  is  intitled  Pro  Lectore  Human,  oratio.  The  office,  I  believe, 
answers  to  that  of  the  present  Latin  Lecturer ;  though  the  duties 
have  necessarily  altered  with  the  times. 


DR.  ISAAC  BARROW. 


Ixxxix 


specie  ludentem  :  cujus  versiculos  nec  mortalis  aliqua  cura 
finxisse,  nec  studiuni  expressisse,  neque  ars  concinnasse, 
sed  vel  natura  ipsa  sponte  effudisse,  aut  divinior  quaedam 
Musa  dictasse  videatur.  Ovidium,  lactea  ubertate  eloquii, 
facili  proprietate  verborum,  sincera  puritate  sermonis,  sen- 
tentiarum  apposito  lepore,  utilique  acumine,  sequali  calore, 
et  continue-  styli  spiritu  cuivis  conferendum,"  &c. 

After  this  he  concludes  with  some  admirable  instruc- 
tions for  themes,  and  several  other  species  of  compo- 
sition. 

Almost  all  the  worldly  goods  which  Barrow  left  behind 
him  consisted  in  his  books;  but  these  were  so  well  chosen, 
that  they  sold  for  more  than  they  cost.  He  published 
only  two  sermons  in  his  life-time  ;  the  rest,  with  the  greater 
part  of  his  works,  were  given  to  the  world  by  his  survi- 
ving and  sorrowing  father,  who  thus  endeavored  to  per- 
petuate the  benefits  conferred  on  society  by  his  illustrious 
son.  The  task  of  editing  these  precious  remains  was  com- 
mitted to  Dr.  Tillotson,  who  appears  to  have  exercised  his 
discretion  in  dividing  some  of  the  sermons,  and  correcting 
various  inaccuracies  in  others :  he  has  given  a  concise 
account  of  his  editorial  labors,  and  of  the  works  them- 
selves, in  the  preface.*  Abraham  Hill,  Esq.  was  his  co- 
executor,  and  these  two  friends  were  empowered  to  deter- 
mine on  such  works  as  should  be  published.  Having  now 
gone  through  the  principal  events  recorded  in  the  life  of 
this  great  man,  who  died  at  the  early  age  of  47,  and 
yet  left  behind  him  such  a  reputation  as  few  persons 
have  been  able  to  acquire  in  the  longest  and  most  active 
career,  I  cannot  find  a  more  appropriate  conclusion  to  my 

*  Three  volumes  in  folio  were  published  in  1683  ;  and  a  4th  volume, 
containing  the  Opuscula,  came  out  in  1G87. 


XC  LIST  OF  DR.  BARROW'S  WORKS. 

history  than  that  beautiful  and  expressive  sentence  of  his 
own,  in  which  he  says,  "power  may  be  dreaded;  riches 
may  be  courted  ;  wit  and  knowlege  may  be  admired  ;  but 
only  goodness  is  truly  esteemed  and  honored."* 


LIST  OF  DR.  BARROW'S  WORKS. 

1.  Euclidis  Elementa :  Cantabrigiae,  1655,  et  sa?pius,  8vo.  After- 
wards translated  into  English,  and  published,  London,  1660.  &c. 

2.  Euclidis  Data:  Cantabrigiaj,  1657.  This  was  subjoined  to  the 
Elements  in  some  subsequent  Editions. 

3.  Lectiones  Opticas  xvin;  Cantabrigiaj,  inscholis  publicis,  habi- 
ta?,  &c.    Londini,  1669.  4to. 

4.  Lectiones  Geometric*  XIII.    Londini,  1670.  4to. 

5.  Archimedis  Opera,  Apollonii  Conicorum  libri  iv.  Theodosii 
Sphasrica,Scc.    Londini,  1675.  4to. 

The  following  were  published  after  his  decease. 

1.  Lectio,  in  qua  Theoremata  Archimedis  de  sphaera  et  cylindro 
&c.,  exhibentur:  Londini,  1678.  12mo. 

2.  Mathematicae  Lectiones,  habitae  in  Scholis  publicis  Academia; 
Cantabrigiensis,  &c.    Londini,  1683.  8vo. 

3.  The  English  Works  of  Dr.  Barrow,  edited  by  Dr.  John  Tillot- 
son,  with  a  Preface  by  A.  Hill,  Esq.,  in  three  vols.  London,  1683. 
&c.  folio. 

The  First  Volume  contains, 
Thirty-two  Sermons  on  several  occasions. 

A  brief  exposition  of  the  Creed,  the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  Decalogue, 
and  the  doctrine  of  the  Sacraments. 

A  treatise  of  the  Pope's  Supremacy. 

A  discourse  concerning  the  Unity  of  the  Church. 

The  Second  Volume  contains, 

Sermons  and  Expositions  on  all  the  articles  of  the  Apostles' 
Creed. 

The  Third  Volume  contains, 
Forty-five  Sermons  on  several  occasions. 

4.  Isaaci  Barrow,  S.S.T-  professoris  Opuscula,  &c.  Londini,  1687. 


*  Serni.  iv.  p.  98. 


LIST  OF  DR.  BARROW\s  WORKS. 


XCl 


folio.  This  is  called  Volumen  quartum,  though  printed  after  the 
three  preceding  Volumes. 

5.  There  are  two  letters  written  by  him  to  Mr.  Willughby,  and 
printed  in  the  Philosophical  Letters  between  Mr.  Kay  and  his  cor- 
respondents, pp.  360.  362. 

Dr.  Ward  also  informs  us*  that  W.  Jones,  Esq.  communicated  to 
him  several  curious  papers  of  Dr.  Barrow,  written  in  his  own  band, 
of  which  he  gives  the  following  account. 

1.  A  Latin  Volume  in  4to.  wherein  are  contained, 

Compendium  pro  tangentibus  determinandis. 
iEquationinn  constructio  per  conieas  sectiones. 
vEquationum  constructio  georaetrica. 
Additamenta  de  curvis. 
Which  tracts  seem  to  have  been  written  before  the  publication  of 
his  Lectioncs  Geometricae. 

2.  Thcorema  generale  ad  lineis  curvis  tangentes,  et  curvarum 
ligurarum  areas,  per  motum  determinandas:  folio  :  half  a  sheet. 

3.  Letters  to  Mr.  John  Collins  on  various  mathematical  sub- 
jects. 

Concerning  parabolical  conoids,  without  a  date. 

Rectifying  a  mistake  of  Mr.  Collins,  concerning  the  parallel  sec- 
tions of  the  cubical  parabolical  conoid.    Without  a  date. 

Rules  to  compute  the  portions  of  a  sphere  or  spheroid.  Sept.  5. 
1664. 

A  character  of  Mengolus's  Elementa  Geometriae  Speciosae,  with 
whom  he  is  displeased  for  his  affectation  of  new  definitions  and  un- 
couth terms.    Nov.  12.  1664. 

He  thanks  him  for  a  catalogue  of  mathematical  books,  which  he 
sent  him  :  gives  a  character  of  Alsted's  Admiranda  Mathematica, 
which  he  thinks  a  work  of  no  great  importance.    Nov.  29.  1664. 

Concerning  a  parabolical  conoid,  cut  parallel  to  the  axis.  Jan.  9. 
1664. 

About  printing  his  Archimedes,  Apollonius,  and  Theodosius,  as 
also  a  new  edition  of  his  Euclid.    March  3.  1665. 

Concerning  the  area  of  the  common  hyperbola,  found  by  loga- 
rithms.   Feb.  1.  1666. 

Containing  a  variety  of  rules  relating  to  the  circle  and  hyperbola, 
with  theorems  concerning  the  curve  surfaces  of  conoids  and  sphe- 
roids.   March  6. 1667. 

A  continuation  of  the  same  subject.    March  26.  1668. 

A  further  continuation  of  it.    May  14.  1668. 


*  Lives  of  Gresham  Professors,  p.  166. 


1 


xcii  LIST  OF  DR.  BARROW'S  WORKS. 

Concerning  the  linea  secantium.  With  two  papers  ;  one  of  the 
figure  of  secants  and  tangents,  applied  to  the  arch,  or  radius  ;  the 
other  concerning  the  cissoidal  space.    March  13.  1668. 

Concerning  the  publication  of  his  Lectiones  Optica?.  Dat.  Easter 
Eve,  1669. 

Sends  him  some  few  things  to  be  inserted  in  his  Lectiones  Geo- 
nietricK,  which  were  then  printing.    March  29.  1670. 

Concerning  the  publication  of  those  Lectures.    April  23.  1670. 

Sends  him  his  Apollonius  and  Perspective  Lectures.  Oct.  11. 
1670. 


In  addition  to  the  above  there  is  in  the  Public  Library  at  Cam- 
bridge, a  volume  in  8vo.  marked  Dd.  xiv.  9.  containing  Sermons 
and  Fragments.  This  Ms.  came  into  its  present  place  with  the 
other  Mss.  and  books  of  Bishop  Moore  presented  by  George  I.  to 
the  University.  The  following  note  appears  written  at  the  begin- 
ning: "  Hie  Liber,  ut  ex  manu  videtur,  fait  viri  doctissimi  Isaaci 
Barrow."  When  I  compared  its  writing  with  undoubted  autographs 
of  Barrow,  in  company  with  Mr.  Lee,  Fellow  of  Trinity  College, 
who  has  devoted  much  time  and  labor  to  the  completion  of  a  cata- 
logue of  Barrow's  works,  in  the  library  of  his  own  college,  neither 
that  gentleman  nor  myself  had  any  doubt  but  that  the  writing  i:i 
question  w  as  Barrow's. 

The  library  of  Trinity  College  contains  thirteen  Ms.  Vols,  of 
Barrow's  works,  published  and  unpublished,  most  of  the  former 
being  in  their  primitive  state,  varying  from  the  printed  editions,  or 
rough  draughts  of  what  afterwards  were  expanded  into  Sermons,  &c. 
Among  the  latter  is  an  extraordinary  number  of  extracts  from  De- 
mosthenes, /Eschines,  Plutarch,  Cicero,  &c,  as  well  as  from  the 
Christian  fathers ;  pages  of  detached  sentences  lor  the  treatise  on 
the  Pope's  supremacy,  &c. ;  arguments  on  several  questions  in  the 
Divinity  Schools;  miscellaneous  notes,  and  references  to  the  New 
Testament,  &c.  But  the  most  valuable  of  these  volumes  is  that 
containing  four  sermons,  in  the  first  page  of  which  is  the  following 
note:  "Dr.  Isaac  Barrow's  sermons  preached  in  1676.  Preached 
by  him."  The  hand-writing  is  very  large,  and  decidedly  not  that 
of  Barrow. 


SERMONS. 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  I. 

PROVERBS,  CHAP.  III. — VERSE  17. 

Meaning  of  the  words  of  the  text :  by  wisdom  is  understood 
an  habitual  skill  or  faculty  of  judging  aright  about  matters  of 
practice,  choosing  according  to  that  right  judgment,  and  con- 
forming the  actions  to  such  good  choice.  Ways  and  paths  in 
Scripture  dialect  are  the  courses  and  manners  of  action  :  by 
pleasantness  may  be  meant  the  joy  and  delight  accompanying  a 
course  of  such  actions,  and  by  peace  the  content  and  satisfaction 
which  ensue  from  it.  So  that  the  text  may  be  taken  simply  to 
represent  unto  us,  that  a  course  of  life  directed  by  wisdom  and 
good  judgment  is  delightful  in  the  practice,  and  brings  content 
after  it.  This  proposition  is  confirmed  by  divers  reasons,  and 
illustrated  by  several  instances. 

I.  It  is  shown  that  wisdom  is  of  itself  delectable  and  satisfac- 
tory, as  it  implies  a  revelation  of  truth,  and  a  detection  of  error 
to  us  ;  as  it  satisfies  our  best  desires,  not  by  entertaining  us 
with  dry,  empty,  and  fruitless  theories  on  mean  and  vulgar  sub- 
jects, but  by  enriching  our  minds  with  excellent  and  useful 
knowlege,  directed  to  the  noblest  objects,  and  serviceable  to  the 
highest  ends. 

II.  Much  more  in  its  consequences  is  wisdom  exceedingly 
BAR.  vol.  i.  A 


2 


SUMMARY  OF 


pleasant  and  peaceable  :  in  general,  by  disposing  us  to  acquire 
and  to  enjoy  all  the  good  and  happiness  we  are  capable  of;  and 
by  freeing  us  from  the  inconveniences  and  mischiefs  to  which 
our  condition  is  subject,  &c. :  more  particularly, 

III.  Wisdom  assures  us  that  we  take  the  best  course, 
and  proceed  as  we  ought:  for  by  the  same  means  we  judge 
aright,  and  reflecting  on  that  judgment,  are  assured  we  do  so. 
Wisdom  therefore  frees  us  from  the  company  of  anxious  doubt 
in  our  actions,  and  the  consequence  of  bitter  repentance. 

IV.  Wisdom  begets  in  us  a  hope  of  success  in  our  actions, 
and  is  usually  attended  therewith  :  but  what  is  more  delicious 
than  hope  ?  what  more  satisfactory  than  success  ? 

V.  Wisdom  prevents  discouragement  from  the  possibility  of 
ill  success ;  yea,  and  makes  disappointment  itself  tolerable. 
However  the  irresistible  power  of  divine  Providence,  guided  by 
the  unsearchable  counsel  of  his  will,  may  interpose  to  thwart  our 
endeavors  ;  yet  when  we  act  prudently,  we  have  no  reason  to  be 
disheartened,  because,  having  had  good  intentions,  having  used 
fit  means,  and  having  done  our  best,  as  no  deserved  blame,  so 
no  considerable  damage  can  arrive  to  us  :  and  though  we  find 
that  Almighty  God  has  crossed  us,  yet  we  are  sure  he  is  not 
displeased  with  us.  The  best  and  wisest  attempts  have  often- 
times miscarried  :  instances  given  from  3Ioses,  and  the  holy 
prophets,  and  our  Saviour.    But  farther, 

VI.  Wisdom  makes  all  the  troubles,  griefs,  and  pains  inci- 
dent to  life,  whether  casual  adversities  or  natural  afflictions, 
easy  and  supportable,  by  rightly  valuing  the  importance  and 
moderating  the  influence  of  them,  &c. 

VII.  Wisdom  has  always  a  good  conscience  attending  it, 
that  purest  delight  and  richest  cordial  of  the  soul ;  that  im- 
pregnable fortress  against  external  assaults  and  inward  commo- 
tions ;  that  certain  friend,  which,  as  Solomon  observes,  renders 
a  man's  sleep  sweet ;  &c. 

VIII.  Wisdom  confers  on  its  possessor  a  facility,  expert 


SERMON  I. 


3 


readiness,  and  dexterity  in  action,  which  is  a  very  pleasant  and 
commodious  quality ;  removing  obstructions,  directing  the  in- 
tention to  ends  possible  and  attainable ;  suggesting  fit  means 
to  work  by  ;  and  contriving  right  methods  of  process,  &c. 

IX.  Wisdom  begets  a  sound,  healthful,  and  harmonious  com- 
plexion of  the  soul,  disposing  us  with  judgment  to  distinguish, 
and  with  pleasure  to  relish,  wholesome  things  ;  but  to  nauseate 
and  reject  such  as  are  noxious. 

X.  Wisdom  acquaints  us  with  ourselves,  our  own  temper 
and  constitution,  our  propensities  and  passions,  our  habitudes 
and  capacities ;  a  thing  not  only  very  advantageous  to  us,  but 
also  very  satisfactory  and  delightful.  Errors  of  conduct,  into 
which  a  fool  is  apt  to  fall,  described.  The  contrary  course  of 
him,  who,  by  impartial  reflexion  on  his  own  mind,  grows  fami- 
liar with  himself. 

XI.  Wisdom  procures  and  preserves  a  constant  favor  and 
fair  respect  of  men,  purchases  a  good  name,  and  upholds  repu- 
tation, which  things  are  naturally  desirable,  &c.  This  point 
enlarged  on. 

XII.  Wisdom  instructs  us  to  examine,  compare,  and  rightly 
to  value  the  objects  that  court  our  affections  and  challenge  our 
care,  merely  regulating  our  passions  and  moderating  our  en- 
deavors; whence  ensue  a  pleasant  serenity  and  peaceable 
tranquillity  of  mind.  Instances  given  of  corporeal  pleasures, 
honor,  power,  wit,  and  beauty,  in  which  wisdom  exercising 
severe  and  impartial  judgment,  and  perceiving  that  they  have 
in  them  no  intrinsic  excellence,  produce  no  solid  content  or 
perfection  to  the  mind,  no  security  to  the  future  condition,  or 
any  other  durable  advantages,  concludes  that  they  deserve  not 
any  high  opinion  of  the  mind  regarding  them,  nor  any  labo- 
rious care  in  the  pursuit  of  them. 

XIII.  Wisdom  distinguishing  the  circumstances,  limiting 
the  measures,  determining  the  modes,  appointing  the  fit  seasons 
of  action  ;  preserves  order,  the  parent  of  peace,  and  prevents 


4 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  I. 


confusion,  the  mother  of  iniquity,  strife,  and  disquiet.  Busi- 
ness of  human  life  compared  to  a  building,  &c. 

XIV.  Wisdom  discovers  our  relations,  duties,  and  concern- 
ments with  respect  to  men,  as  well  as  the  natural  grounds  of 
them  ;  thereby  both  qualifying  and  inclining  us  to  the  dis- 
charge of  them  ;  whence  exceeding  convenience,  pleasure,  and 
content  ensue  :  the  topic  enlarged  on  :  so  that  wisdom  in  this 
point  of  view  is  the  genuine  parent  of  all  moral  and  political 
virtue ;  as  Solomon  says  in  her  person,  /  lead  in  a  way  of 
righteousness  and  in  the  midst  of  the  paths  of  judgment. 

XV.  The  principal  advantage  of  wisdom  is,  that  it  ac- 
quaints us  with  the  nature  and  reason  of  true  religion,  affording 
the  most  convincing  arguments  to  persuade  us  to  the  practice 
of  it;  which  is  accompanied  by  the  purest  of  all  delights. 
The  manner  in  which  wisdom  acquaints  us  with  the  nature  of 
religion,  that  is,  wherein  it  consists,  and  what  it  requires,  ex- 
plained. The  incentives  by  which  it  allures  and  persuades  us 
noticed. 

Lastly,  wisdom  attracts  the  favor  of  God,  purchases  for  us 
a  glorious  reward,  and  secures  to  us  a  perpetual  felicity.  For 
God  loveth  none  but  him  that  dwelleth  with  wisdom :  Wisd. 
vii.  28.  God  loveth  wisdom  as  most  agreeable  to  his  own 
nature,  &c.  And  the  paths  she  leads  in  are  such  as  directly 
tend  to  the  promised  inheritance  of  joy  and  bliss. 

Passage  of  great  eloquence,  showing  how  we  ought  to  en- 
deavor to  obtain  this  excellent  endowment  of  soul ;  with  a  con- 
cluding fervent  aspiration  after  it. 


THE  PLEASANTNESS  OF  RELIGION. 


§ 


SERMON  I. 

THE  PLEASANTNESS  OF  RELIGION. 


PROVERBS,  CHAP.  III. — VERSE  17. 

Her  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  are  peace. 

The  meaning  of  these  words  seems  plain  and  obvious, 
and  to  need  little  explication.  '  Her  ways,'  that  is,  the 
ways  of  Wisdom.  What  this  wisdom  is,  I  shall  not  under- 
take accurately  to  describe.  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  endeavor  at 
this  time  to  confirm  by  divers  reasons,  and  illustrate  by  several 
instances. 

I.  Then,  wisdom  of  itself  is  delectable  and  satisfactory,*  as  it  i 
implies  a  revelation  of  truth,  and  a  detection  of  error  to  us.  It 
is  like  light,  pleasant  to  behold,  casting  a  sprightly  lustre,  and 


*  Veritatis  luce  menti  hominis  niliil  dulcius.    Cic.  Acad.  2. 


6  BARROW. — SERMON  I. 

diffusing  a  benign  influence  all  about;  presenting  a  goodly 
prospect  of  things  to  the  eyes  of  our  mind  ;  displaying  objects 
in  their  due  shapes,  postures,  magnitudes,  and  colors ;  quicken- 
ing 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  pas- 
sages 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  from  being  deceived  and 
entangled  in  mistake.  And  as  success  in  inquiry  after  truth 
affords  matter  of  joy  and  triumph  ;  so  being  conscious  of  error 
aud  miscarriage  therein,  is  attended  with  shame  and  sorrow. 
These  desires  wisdom  in  the  most  perfect  manner  satisfies,  not 
by  entertaining  us  with  dry,  empty,  fruitless  theories,  on  mean 
and  vulgar  subjects;  but  by  enriching  our  minds  with  excel- 
lent and  useful  knowlege,  directed  to  the  noblest  objects,  and 
serviceable  to  the  highest  ends.  Nor  in  its  own  nature  only, 
but, 

II.  Much  more  in  its  worthy  consequences  is  wisdom  ex- 
ceedingly pleasant  and  peaceable :  in  general,  by  disposing  us 
to  acquire  and  to  enjoy  all  the  good,  delight,  and  happiness  we 
are  capable  of ;  and  by  freeing  us  from  all  the  inconveniences, 
mischiefs,  and  infelicities  our  condition  is  subject  to.  For 
whatever  good  from  clear  understanding,  deliberate  advice,  sa- 
gacious foresight,  stable  resolution,  dexterous  address,  right 
intention,  and  orderly  proceeding  doth  naturally  result,  wisdom 
confers:  whatever  evil  blind  ignorance,  false  presumption,  un- 
wary credulity,  precipitate  rashness,  unsteady  purpose,  ill  con- 
trivance, backwardness,  inability,  unwieldiness  and  confusion 
of  thought,  beget,  wisdom  prevents.  From  a  thousand  snares 
and  treacherous  allurements,  from  innumerable  rocks  and  dan- 
gerous surprises,  from  exceedingly  many  needless  incumbrances 
and  vexatious  toils  of  fruitless  endeavor,  she  redeems  aud  se- 
cures us.    More  particularly, 

III.  Wisdom  assures  us  we  take  the  best  course,  and  pro- 
ceed as  we  ought.  For  by  the  same  means  we  judge  aright, 
and  reflecting  on  that  judgment  are  assured  we  do  so  :  as  the 


THE  PLEASANTNESS  OF  RELIGION. 


same  arguments  by  which  we  demonstrate  a  theorem  convince 
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  per- 
ceiving clearly  the  rectitude  of  his  process,  proceeds  usually 
with  a  dubious  solicitude  ;  and  at  length,  discovering  his  error, 
condemns  his  own  choice,  and  receives  no  other  satisfaction  but 
of  repentance.  Like  a  traveller,  who,  being  uncertain  whether 
he  goes  in  the  right  way,  wanders  in  continual  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  mis- 
chiefs 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  satisfactory  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  harvest 
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.  Farther, 

V.  Wisdom  prevents  discouragement  from  the  possibility  of 
ill  success,  yea  and  makes  disappointment  itself  tolerable'. 
For  if  either  the  foresight  of  a  possible  miscarriage  should  is- 
courage  us  from  adventuring  on  action,  or  inculpable  frustration 
were  intolerable,  we  should  with  no  heart  apply  ourselves  to 
any  thing  ;  there  being  no  designs  in  this  world,  though  founded 
on  the  most  sound  advice,  and  prosecuted  by  the  most  diligent 
endeavor,  which  may  not  be  defeated,  as  depending  on  divers 


BARROW. — SERMON  I. 


causes  above  our  power,  and  circumstances  beyond  our  pros- 
pect. The  inconstant  opinions,  uncertain  resolutions,  mutable 
affections,  and  fallacious  pretences  of  men,  on  which  the 
accomplishment  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  businesses  and  lives  toge- 
ther. However,  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  interpose,  and  hinder  the  effects 
of  our  endeavors.  Yet  notwithstanding,  when  we  act  pru- 
dently, 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  considerable  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  consideration, 
wherewith  wisdom  furnishes  us,  will  make  the  worst  success 
not  only  tolerable,  but  comfortable  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  dis- 
appointment 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 
miscarried.  We  see  Moses,  authorised  by  God's  command, 
directed  by  his  counsel,  and  conducted  by  his  hand^  intended 
to  bring  the  Israelites  into  the  land  of  Canaan  ;  yet  by  the 
unreasonable  incredulity  and  stubborn  perverseness  of  that 
people,  he  had  his  purpose  frustrated.  The  holy  prophets 
afterward  earnestly  endeavored  to  contain  the  same  people 
within  compass  of  obedience  to  the  divine  commands,  and  to 
reduce  them  from  their  idolatrous  and  wicked  courses  ;  yet 
without  correspondent  effect.  Our  Saviour,  by  the  example  of 
his  holy  life,  continual  instruction,  and  vehement  exhortations, 
assayed  to  procure  a  belief  of,  and  submission  to,  his  most 
excellent  doctrine  ;  yet  how  few  •  believed  his  report,'  and  com- 
plied 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,  his 


THE  PLEASANTNESS  OF  RELIGION. 


9 


expectations  deceived.  '  Wherefore,'  (saith  he  concerning  his 
vineyard,)  '  when  I  looked  it  should  bring  forth  grapes,  brought 
it  forth  wild  grapes?'  Isa.  v.  4.  And  again,  '  I  have  spread 
out  my  hands  all  the  day  to  a  rebellious  people :'  Isa.  lxv.  2. 
And  again,  '  I  have  even  sent  unto  you  all  my  prophets,  daily 
rising  up  early,  and  sending  them :  yet  they  hearkened  not 
unto  me  :'  Jer.  vii.  25.  26.  Wherefore  there  is  no  good  cause 
we  should  be  disheartened,  or  vexed,  when  success  is  wanting 
to  well-advised  purposes.  It  is  foolish  and  ill-grounded  intenr 
tions,  and  practices  unwarrantable  by  good  reason,  that  make 
the  undertakers  solicitous  of  success,  and  being  defeated  leave 
them  disconsolate.    Yea  farther, 

VI.  Wisdom  makes  all  the  troubles,  griefs,  and  pains  inci- 
dent to  life,  whether  casual  adversities,  or  natural  afflictions, 
easy  and  supportable  ;  by  rightly  valuing  the  importance,  and 
moderating  the  influence  of  them.  It  suffers  not  busy  fancy  to 
alter  the  nature,  amplify  the  degree,  or  extend  the  duration  of 
them,  by  representing  them  more  sad,  heavy,  and  remediless 
than  they  truly  are.  It  allows  them  no  force  beyond  what 
naturally  and  necessarily  they  have,  nor  contributes  nourish- 
ment to  their  increase.  It  keeps  them  at  a  due  distance,  not 
permitting  them  to  encroach  on  the  soul,  or  to  propagate  their 
influence  beyond  their  proper  sphere.  It  will  not  let  external 
mischances,  as  poverty  and  disgrace,  to  produce  an  inward 
sense  which  is  beyond  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  dis- 
tempers 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 
showing  us  they  are  either  merely  imaginary,  or  very  short  and 
temporary  ;  that  they  admit  of  remedy,  or  at  most  do  not  ex- 
clude comfort,  not  wholly  hindering  the  operations  of  the  mind, 
nor  extinguishing  its  joys ;  that  they  may  have  a  profitable 


10 


BARROW. — SERMON  L 


use  and  pleasant  end  ;  and,  however,  neither  imply  bad  con- 
science, 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  fortress  against  both  external  assaults 
and  internal  commotions  ;  that  '  continual  feast,'  whereon  the 
mind,  destitute  of  all  other  repast,  with  a  never  languishing 
appetite  may  entertain  itself ;  that  faithful  witness  and  impar- 
tial 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  perse- 
cutions of  disgrace ;  which,  as  Solomon  here  notes,  renders  a 
man's  '  sleep  sweet,'  and  undisturbed  with  fearful  phantasms,  his 
heart  light,  and  his  steps  secure  ;  and,  if  any  thing,  can  make 
the  Stoical  paradox  good,  and  cause  the  wise  man  to  smile  iu 
extremity  of  torment ;  arming  his  mind  with  an  invincible  cou- 
rage, and  infusing  a  due  confidence  into  it,  whereby  he  bears 
up  cheerfully  against  malicious  reproach,  undauntedly  sustains 
adversity,  and  triumphs  over  bad  fortune.  And  this  invalu- 
able treasure  the  wise  man  is  only  capable  of  possessing ;  who 
certainly  knows,  and  heartily  approves  the  grounds  on  which 
he  proceeds  ;  whereas  the  fool,  building  his  choice  on  blind 
chance,  or  violent  passion,  or  giddy  fancy,  or  uncertain  ex- 
ample, not  on  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. 

VIII.  Wisdom  confers  a  facility,  expert  readiness,  and  dex- 
terity in  action  ;  which  is  a  very  pleasant  and  commodious  qua- 
lity, 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,  ren- 
ders him  sluggish  and  averse  from  business,  though  apprehended 
never  so  necessary,  and  of  great  moment.  These  obstructions 
wisdom  removes,  facilitating  operations  by  directing  the  inten- 
tion to  ends  possible  and  attainable,  by  suggesting  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 


THE  PLEASANTNESS  OF  RELIGION. 


11 


memory,  and  ready  on  all  occasions  to  be  produced  and  em- 
ployed in  practice. 

IX.  Wisdom  begets  a  sound,  healthful,  and  harmonious  com- 
plexion of  the  soul,  disposing  us  with  judgment  to  distinguish, 
and  with  pleasure  to  relish  savory  and  wholesome  things,  but 
to  nauseate  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  vigor,  which  results  to  the  body  from  a  good  constitu- 
tion 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  demean- 
ing himself  as  toward  another,  a  better,  a  wiser,  and  abler  man 
than  he  is.  He  hath  wonderful  conceits  of  his  own  qualities 
and  faculties ;  he  affects  commendations  incompetent  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  wanders,  and  stares,  and  hunts  after,  but  never  can 
find  nor  discern  himself ;  but  always  encounters  with  a  false 
shadow  instead  thereof,  which  he  passionately  hugs  and  ad- 
mires. But  a  wise  man,  by  constant  observation  and  impartial 
reflexion  on  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  corroborates  them  :  he  ap- 
prehends the  matters  he  is  fitting  for  and  capable  to  manage, 
neither  too  mean  and  unworthy  of  him,  nor  too  high  and  diffi- 
cult for  him  ;  and  those  applying  his  care  to,  he  transacts  easily, 
cheerfully,  and  successfully.  So  being  neither  puffed  up  with 
vain  and  overweening  opinion,  nor  dejected  with  heartless  diffi- 
dence of  himself ;  neither  admiring,  nor  despising  ;  neither  irk- 
somely hating,  nor  fondly  loving  himself;  he  continues  in  good 
humor,  maintains  a  sure  friendship  and  fair  correspondence  with 
himself,  and  rejoices  in  the  retirement  and  private  conversation 


12  BARROW.— SERMON  I. 

with  his  own  thoughts :  whence  flows  a  pleasure  and  satisfaction 
unexpressible. 

XI.  Wisdom  procures  and  preserves  a  constant  favor  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  incon- 
veniences. The  composed  frame  of  mind,  uniform  and  comely 
demeanor,  compliant  and  inoffensive  conversation,  fair  and 
punctual  dealing,  considerate  motions,  and  dexterous  addresses 
of  wise  men  naturally  beget  esteem  and  affection  in  those  that 
observe  them.  Neither  than  these  things  is  there  any  thing 
more  commendable  to  human  regard.  As  symmetry  and  har- 
mony to  the  animal  senses,  so  delectable  is  an  even  temper  of 
soul  and  orderly  tenor  of  actions  to  rational  apprehensions. 
Folly  is  freakish  and  humorous,  impertinent  and  obstreperous, 
inconstant  and  inconsistent,  peevish  and  exceptious ;  and  con- 
sequently fastidious  to  society,  and  productive  of  aversation 
and  disrespect.  But  the  wise  man  is  stable  in  his  ways,  conso- 
nant 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  acquaintance  accept- 
able, and  his  person  valuable  :  beside  that  real  worth  of  itself 
commands  respect,  and  extorts  veneration  from  men,  and  usually 
prosperity  waits  on  his  well-advised  attempts,  which  exceed- 
ingly 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  for- 
tune. If  a  fool  prosper,  the  honor  is  attributed  to  propitious 
chance;  if  he  miscarry,  to  his  own  ill  management :  but  the 
intire  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  misfortune.  Who  less  esteems  the 
famous  African  captain  for  being  overthrown  in  that  last  fatal 
battle,  wherein  he  is  said  to  have  shown  the  best  skill,  and  yet 
endured  the  worst  of  success  ?    Who  contemns  Cato  and  other 


THE  PLEASANTNESS  OF  RELIGION. 


13 


the  grave  citizens  of  Rome  for  embracing  the  just  but  im pros- 
perous cause  of  the  commonwealth?  A  wise  man's  circum- 
stances may  vary  and  fluctuate  like  the  floods  about  a  rock  ; 
but  he  persists  unmoveably  the  same,  and  his  reputation  un- 
shaken ;  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,  compare,  and  rightly 
to  value  the  objects  that  court  our  affections,  and  challenge  our 
care ;  and  thereby  regulates  our  passions,  and  moderates  our 
endeavors,  which  begets  a  pleasant  serenity  and  peaceable  tran- 
quillity of  mind.  For  when,  being  deluded  with  false  shows, 
and  relying  on  ill-grounded  presumptions,  we  highly  esteem, 
passionately  affect,  and  eagerly  pursue  things  of  little  worth  in 
themselves,  or  concernment  to  us,  as  we  unhandsomely  prostitute 
our  affections,  and  prodigally  misspend  our  time,  and  vainly 
lose  our  labor  ;  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  enamored  with,  and  vigorously  strive  to 
attain  things  of  excellent  worth  and  weighty  consequence;  the 
conscience  of  having  well  placed  our  affections,  and  well  em- 
ployed 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  im- 
pose on  our  fancies,  disguising  things  with  a  deceitful  varnish, 
and  representing  those  that  are  vainest  with  the  greatest  ad- 
vantage ;  whilst  the  noblest  objects,  being  of  a  more  subtile 
and  spiritual  nature,  like  fairest  jewels  inclosed  in  a  homely 
box,  avoid  the  notice  of  gross  sense,  and  pass  undiscerned  by  us. 
But  the  light  of  wisdom,  as  it  unmasks  specious  imposture,  and 
bereaves  it  of  its  false  colors  ;  so  it  penetrates  into  the  retire- 
ments of  true  excellency,  and  reveals  its  genuine  lustre.  For 
example,  corporeal  pleasure,  which  so  powerfully  allures  and 
enchants  us,  wisdom  declares  that  it  is  but  a  present,  momen- 
tary, and  transient  satisfaction  of  brutish  sense,  dimming  the 
light,  sullying  the  beauty,  impairing  the  vigor,  and  restraining 
the  activity  of  the  mind  ;  diverting  from  better  operations,  and 
indisposing  it  to  enjoy  purer  delights  ;  leaving  no  comfortable 
relish  or  gladsome  memory  behind  it,  but  often  followed  with 


14 


BARROW. — SERMON  ['. 


bitterness,  regret,  and  disgrace.  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  enjoyed  by  all  sorts,  but  com- 
monly 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  honor  men  so  dote 
on  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  on  the  arbitrary  opinion  and  fickle  humor 
of  the  people  ;  complacence  in  which  is  vain,  and  reliance  on 
it  dangerous.  That  power  and  dominion,  which  men  so  im- 
patiently struggle  for,  are  but  necessary  evils  introduced  to  re- 
strain the  had  tempers  of  men ;  most  evil  to  them  that  enjoy 
them  ;  requiring  tedious  attendance,  distracting  care,  and  vexa- 
tious toil ;  attended  with  frequent  disappointment,  opprobrious 
censure,  and  dangerous  envy  ;  having  such  real  burdens,  and 
slavish  incumbrances,  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  endowments, 
commendable  only  in  order  to  use,  apt  to  engender  pride  and 
vanity,  and  hugely  dangerous,  if  abused  or  misemployed.  What 
should  I  mention  beauty,  that  fading  toy  ;  or  bodily  strength 
and  activity,  qualities  so  palpably  inconsiderable  ?  On  these 
and  such  like  flattering  objects,  so  adored  by  vulgar  opinion, 
wisdom  exercising  severe  and  impartial  judgment,  and  perceiv- 
ing in  them  no  intrinsic  excellence,  no  solid  content  springing 
from  them,  no  perfection  theuce  accruing  to  the  mind,  no  higK 
reward  allotted  to  them,  no  security  to  the  future  condition,  or 
other  durable  advantages  proceeding  from  them  ;  it  concludes 
they  deserve  not  any  high  opinion  of  the  mind,  nor  any  vehe- 
ment 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  being  over- 
whelmed with  disconsolate  sorrow  at  the  missing  of  them,  or 


The  pleasantness  of  religion. 


parting  with  them  ;  from  repining  and  envying  at  those  who 
have  better  success  than  ourselves  in  the  procuring  them  ;  from 
immoderate  toil  in  getting,  and  care  in  preserving  them :  and 
so  delivering  us  from  all  these  unquiet  anxieties  of  thought, 
tumultuous  perturbations  of  passion,  and  tedious  vexations  of 
body,  it  maintains  our  minds  in  a  cheerful  calm,  quiet  indiffe- 
rency,  and  comfortable  liberty.  On  the  other  side,  things  of 
real  worth  and  high  concernment,  that  produce  great  satisfac- 
tion to  the  mind,  and  are  mainly  conducible  to  our  happiness, 
such  as  are  a  right  understanding  and  strong  sense  of  our  obli- 
gations to  Almighty  God,  and  relations  to  men,  a  sound  tem- 
per and  complexion  of  mind,  a  virtuous  disposition,  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  preventing  the  inconveniences  that 
follow  the  want  of  them,  and  conveying  the  benefits  arising 
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  confusion,  the  mother  of  iniquity,  strife,  and 
disquiet.  It  is  in  the  business  of  human  life  as  in  a  building  ; 
a  due  proportion  of  bigness,  a  fit  situation  of  place,  a  cor- 
respondency of  shape,  and  suitableness  of  color,  is  to  be  ob- 
served between  the  parts  thereof:  a  defect  in  any  of  which  re- 
quisites, though  the  materials  hap  to  be  choice  and  excellent, 
makes  the  whole  fabric  deformed  and  ugly  to  judicious  appre- 
hension. The  best  actions,  if  they  swell,  and  exceed  their  due 
measure,  if  they  be  unskilfully  misplaced,  if  in  uncouth  manner 
performed,  they  lose  their  quality,  and  turn  both  to  the  dis- 
grace and  disadvantage  of  life.  It  is  commendable  to  pray  ; 
but  they  that  would  always  be  performing  that  duty,  by  their 
absurd  devotion  procured  to  themselves  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 


JO 


BARROW. — SERMON  I. 


they  were  fond  and  contentious  persons.  Friendly  admonition 
is  very  laudable,  and  of  rare  use  ;  but  being  on  all  occasions 
immoderately  used,  or  in  public  society  so  as  to  encroach  on 
modesty,  or  endamage  reputation ;  or  when  the  person  admo- 
nished is  otherwise  employed,  and  attent  on  his  business ;  or 
being  delivered  in  an  imperiously  insulting  way,  or  in  harsh  and 
opprobrious  language ;  it  becomes  unsavory  and  odious,  and 
both  in  show  and  effect  resembles  a  fro  ward,  malicious  excep- 
tiousness.  It  were  infinite  to  compute  in  how  many  instances 
want  of  due  order,  measure,  and  manner,  do  spoil  and  incom- 
modate  action.  It  is  wisdom  that  applies  remedy  to  these 
mischiefs.  Things  must  be  compared  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  circum- 
stances, they  will  sit  ugly  on  the  things  that  wear  them  ;  if  she 
do  not  temper  the  colors,  and  describe  the  lineaments,  the 
draught  of  practice  will  be  but  rude  and  imperfect,  and  little 
resemble  the  true  patterns  of  duty  :  but  if  she  interpose  and 
perform  her  part,  all  things  will  appear  conformable,  neat,  and 
delicate. 

XIV.  Wisdom  discovers  our  relations,  duties,  and  concern- 
ments, in  respect  of  men,  with  the  natural  grounds  of  them ; 
thereby  both  qualifying  and  inclining  us  to  the  discharge  of 
them  :  whence  exceeding  convenience,  pleasure,  and  content 
ensues.  By  it  we  understand  we  are  parts  and  members  of  the 
great  body,  the  universe ;  and  are  therefore  concerned  in  the 
good  management  of  it,  and  are  thereby  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  children  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,  gratitude,  sociableness,  quiet,  joy,  reputation  :  that  we 
have  an  indispensable  need  and  impatient  desire  of  company, 
assistance,  comfort,  and  relief;  that  therefore  it  is  accord- 
ing to  the  design  of  nature,  and  agreeable  to  reason,  that 


THE  PLEASANTNESS  OF  RELIGION. 


17 


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  affec- 
tion ;  should  cheerfully  concur  in  undergoing  the  common  bur- 
dens ;  should  heartily  wish  and  industriously  promote  their 
good,  assist  them  in  accomplishing  their  reasonable  desires, 
thankfully  requite  the  courtesies  received  from  them,  congra- 
tulate and  rejoice  with  them  in  their  prosperity,  comfort  them 
in  their  distresses,  and,  as  we  are  able,  relieve  them  ;  however, 
tenderly  compassionate  their  disappointments,  miseries,  and 
sorrows.  This  renders  us  kind  and  courteous  neighbors,  sweet 
and  grateful  companions.  It  represents  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  correspondence  among  men  ; 
by  which  considerations  it  engages  us  to  be  good  citizens,  obe- 
dient subjects,  just  dealers,  and  faithful  friends.  It  minds  us 
of  the  blindness,  impotence,  and  levity,  the  proneness  to  mis- 
take and  misbehavior  that  human  nature  necessarily  is  subject 
to ;  deserving  rather  our  commiseration  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  pardon 
injuries,  to  be  patient,  exorable,  and  reconcilable  to  those 
that  give  us  greatest  cause  of  offence.  It  teaches  us  the  good 
may,  but  the  evil  of  our  neighbor  can  in  no  wise  advantage  us; 
that  from  the  suffering  of  any  man,  simply  considered,  no 
benefit  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  neighbor,  to  hate  or  envy  him,  or  insult  over 
him,  or  devise  mischief  to  him,  or  prosecute  revenge  on  him  ; 
which  makes  us  civil,  noble,  and  placable  enemies,  or  rather 
no  enemies  at  all.  So  that  wisdom  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  righ- 
teousness,' and  '  in  the  midst  of  the  paths  of  judgment :'  Prov. 
viii.  20.  And  how  sweet  these  are  in  the  practice,  how  com- 
fortable in  the  consequences,  the  testimony  of  continual  expe- 


18 


BARROW.— SERMON  I. 


rience,  and  the  unanimous  consent  of  all  wise  men  sufficiently 
declare.    But  farther, 

XV.  The  principal  advantage  of  wisdom  is,  its  acquainting 
us  with  the  nature  and  reason  of  true  religion,  and  affording 
convictive  arguments  to  persuade  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  religion, 
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 
showeth  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  osten- 
tations and  florishes  of  outward  performance,  but  in  an  inward 
good  complexion  of  mind,  exerting  itself  in  works  of  true 
devotion  and  charity;  not  in  a  nice  orthodoxy,  or  politic  sub- 
jection of  our  judgments  to  the  peremptory  dictates  of  men,  but 
in  a  sincere  love  of  truth,  in  a  hearty  approbation  of,  and  com- 
pliance with,  the  doctrines  fundamentally  good,  and  necessary 
to  be  believed  ;  not  in  harsh  censuring  and  virulently  inveighing 
against  others,  but  in  careful  amending  our  own  ways ;  not  in 
a  peevish  crossness  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  circumstances,  but  in  a  con- 
scionable  practising  the  substantial  parts  of  religion ;  not  in  a 
frequent  talking  or  contentious  disputing  about  it,  but  in  a 
ready  observance  of  the  unquestionable  rules  and  prescripts  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  attributes,  con- 
spicuoulsy  displayed  in  the  frame,  order,  and  government  of  the 
world  :  that  wonderful  Power,  which  erected  this  great  and 
goodly  fabric;  that  incomprehensible  Wisdom,  which  preserves 
it  in  a  constant  harmony  ;  that  immense  Goodness,  which  hath 
so  carefully  provided  for  the  various  necessities,  delights,  and 


THE  PLEASANTNESS  OF  RELIGION. 


19 


comforts  of  its  innumerable  inhabitants.  I  say,  by  representing 
those  infinitely  glorious  perfections,  it  engages  us  with  highest 
respect  to  esteem,  reverence,  and  honor  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  towards  us;  it  inflames  us  with  ardent 
love,  and  obliges  us  to  officious  gratitude  toward  him.  Also, 
by  declaring  the  necessary  and  irreconcilable  contrariety  of  his 
nature  to  all  impurity  and  perverseness,  his  peerless  majesty, 
his  irresistible  power,  and  his  all-seeing  knowlege,  it  begets  an 
awful  dread  and  a  devout  fear  of  him.  By  discovering  him 
from  his  infinite  benignity  willing,  and  from  his  unlimited 
power  only  able  to  supply  our  needs,  relieve  us  in  distresses, 
protect  us  from  dangers,  and  confer  any  valuable  benefit  on  us, 
it  engenders  faith,  and  encourages  us  to  rely  on  him.  By 
revealing  to  us  his  supereminent  sovereignty,  uncontrollable 
dominion,  and  unquestionable  authority  over  us;  together  with 
the  admirable  excellency,  wisdom,  and  equity  of  his  laws,  so 
just  and  reasonable  in  themselves,  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  induce- 
ments wisdom  urges  us  to  all  duties  of  religion,  and  withal 
surely  directs  us  (as  I  before  said)  wherein  it  consists;  teach- 
ing us  to  have  right  and  worthy  apprehensions  of  the  divine 
nature,  to  which  our  devotion,  if  true  and  good,  must  be  suited 
and  conformed  :  and  so  it  frees  us,  as  from  irreligion  and  pro- 
fane neglect  of  God,  so  from  fond  superstitions,  the  sources  of 
so  much  evil  to  mankind.  For  he  that  wisely  hath  considered 
the  wisdom,  goodness,  and  power  of  God,  cannot  imagine  God 
can  with  a  regardless  eye  overlook  his  presumptuous  contempts 
of  his  laws,  or  endure  him  to  proceed  in  an  outrageous  defiance 
of  heaven,  to  continue  hurting  himself,  or  injuring  hisneighbor; 
nor  can  admit  unreasonable  terrors,  or  entertain  suspicious 
conceits  of  God,  as  of  an  imperious  master,  or  implacable 


•20 


BARROW. — SERMON  I. 


tyrant  over  him,  exacting  impossible  performances  from,  or 
delighting  in  the  fatal  miseries  of  his  creatures ;  nor  can  sup- 
pose him  pleased  with  hypocritical  shows,  and  gTeatly  taken 
with  superficial  courtships  of  ceremonious  address  ;  or  that  he 
can  in  any  wise  favor  our  fiery  zeals,  fierce  passions,  or  unjust 
partialities  about  matter  of  opinion  and  ceremony  ;  or  can  do 
otherwise  than  detest  all  factious,  harsh,  uncharitable,  and 
revengeful  proceedings,  of  what  nature,  or  on  what  ground 
soever ;  or  that  he  can  be  so  inconsistent  with  himself  as  to 
approve  any  thing  but  what  is  like  himself,  that  is,  righteous- 
ness, sincerity,  and  beneficence. 

Lastly,  wisdom  attracts  the  favor  of  God,  purchaseth  a  glorious 
reward,  and  secureth  perpetual  felicity  to  us.  '  For  God  loveth 
none  but  him  that  dwelleth  w  ith  wisdom  :'  Wisd.  vii.  28.  And, 
'  glorious  is  the  fruit  of  good  labors,  and  the  root  of  wisdom  shall 
never  fall  away  :'  Id.  iii.  15.  And,  '  happy  is  the  man  that 
findeth  wisdom  and  '  whoso  findeth  her,  findeth  life,  and 
shall  obtain  favor  of  the  Lord  :'  Pro  v.  iii.  13.  viii.  35.  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  begetteth  honor,  love,  and  obedience  to  his  com- 
mands, 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  in- 
heritance of  joy  and  bliss. 

Thus  have  I  simply  and  plainly  presented  you  with  part  of 
what  my  meditation  suggested  on  this  subject :  it  remains  that 
we  endeavor  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  reflexion  on  ourselves, 
virtuous  and  religious  practice  ;  but  especially  by  imploring  the 
divine  influence,  the  original  spring  of  light  and  fountain  of  all 
true  knowlege,  following  St.  James's  advice  ;  '  If  any  man  lack 
wisdom,  let  him  ask  it  of  God,  who  giveth  freely.'  Therefore, 
O  everlasting  Wisdom,  the  Maker,  Redeemer,  and  Governor 
of  all  things,  let  some  comfortable  beams  from  thy  gTeat  body 
of  heavenly  light  descend  on  us,  to  illuminate  our  dark  minds, 


THE  PLEASANTNESS  OF  RELIGION. 


21 


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. 


•2-2 


SUMMARY  OF 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  II. 

1  TIMOTHY,  CHAP.  IV. — VERSE  8. 

General  observations  on  the  devotedness  to  profit  exhi- 
bited by  men,  in  the  immediate  scope  of  their  designs  and  aim 
of  their  actions.  The  practice  being  so  universal,  and  men 
being  reasonable  creatures,  it  cannot  proceed  from  mere  brutal 
dotage  ;  but  there  must  be  some  fair  color  or  semblance  of 
reason  which  carries  them  on  this  way.  The  reason  is  obvious 
enough;  the  very  name  of  profit  implies  it,  signifying  that 
which  is  useful,  or  conducive  to  purposes  really  or  seemingly 
good.  The  gain  of  money,' or  of  something  equivalent  to  it,  why 
this  is  specially  termed  profit  explained. 

If  therefore  a  project  should  be  proposed  to  us  very  feasible 
and  probable  to  succeed,  in  the  pursuit  of  which  we  might 
assuredly  obtain  great  profit,  we  should  only  act  consistently 
with  ourselves  and  our  usual  manner  of  acting,  if  we  readily 
embraced  it.  Such  a  project  is  proposed  by  a  very  skilful 
judge  of  such  things  in  the  text;  one  which  will  bring  to  us 
gains  unspeakably  great,  in  comparison  of  which  all  other 
designs  of  men  are  unprofitable,  or  even  detrimental. 

This  project  briefly  stated  is  to  be  religious  or  pious  ;  that  is. 
in  our  minds  stedfastly  to  believe  on  God,  in  our  hearts 
earnestly  to  love  and  reverence  him,  and  throughout  our  prac- 
tice diligently  to  observe  his  laws  :  this  is  recommended  by 
St.  Paul,  as  profitable  for  all  things  ;  and  this  itwill  be  shown 
is  really  so. 

A  main  obstruction  to  the  practice  of  piety  is,  that  it  has 
been  taken  not  for  a  friend,  but  rather  for  an  enemy  to  profit ; 


SERMON  II. 


•2?, 


and  there  are  many  semblances  which  countenance  such  an 
opinion  :  this  instanced  in  religion  seeming  to  smother  or  to 
slacken  the  industry  and  alacrity  of  men  with  regard  to 
worldly  profit,  by  charging  them  to  be  content  with  a  little, 
and  careful  for  nothing,  by  diverting  their  affections  from 
worldly  affairs,  &c. 

Also  in  our  observing  that  bad  men  often  thrive  by  impious 
courses,  while  good  men  seem  to  suffer  for  their  very  goodness. 
This  also  furthers  the  prejudice,  that  some  persons,  void  of 
true  piety,  mere  dabblers  in  religion,  do  not  from  their  slight 
and  superficial  performances  feel  such  returns  as  they  expected. 

To  these  considerations,  thus  disadvantageous  to  piety,  may 
be  added,  that  the  constant  certain  profits  which  proceed  from 
it,  are  not  so  gross  and  palpable  that  men,  vitiated  in  their 
tastes,  and  blinded  by  error,  can  discern  their  worth,  or  relish 
their  sweetness. 

For  destroying  which  prejudices,  and  recommending  St. 
Paul's  project,  some  of  the  innumerable  advantages  are  con- 
sidered, by  which  the  great  profitableness  of  piety  will  appear  : 
and  first  those  which  are  more  universal  in  their  nature  ;  next 
those  which  seem  to  be  more  particular,  though  their  influence 
is  very  extensive. 

I.  First  then,  piety  is  exceedingly  useful  for  all  sorts  of  men, 
in  all  capacities,  states,  and  relations,  fitting  them  to  discharge 
all  their  duties  in  .a  proper,  just,  and  decent  manner.  This 
shown  in  the  peculiar  duties  of  superiors,  inferiors,  princes, 
subjects,  parents,  children,  husbands,  wives,  and  friends.  It 
renders  all  men  faithful  to  their  trusts,  just  and  punctual  in 
their  dealings,  orderly  and  courteous  in  their  behavior.  It 
ties  all  relations  more  fastly,  augments  all  endearments,  and 
enforces  all  obligations  by  the  firm  bonds  of  conscience,  &c. 

In  consequence  of  those  practices  which  spring  from  it, 
piety  removes  oppression,  violence,  faction,  murmurings,  out  of 
the  state;   schisms  and  scandal  out  of  the  church;  pride, 


24 


SUMMARY  OF 


luxury,  and  sycophancy  out  of  the  court ;  corruption  out  of 
judicatures ;  tumults  out  of  the  street ;  brawlings  and  jealousies 
out  of  families  ;  extortion  out  of  trade  ;  strife,  emulation,  and 
foul  language  out  of  conversation,  &c.  It  is  the  best  prop  and 
guard  of  government ;  for  it  settles  the  body  politic  in  a  sound 
constitution  of  health,  and  firmly  cements  all  the  parts 
thereof:  it  is  therefore  the  interest  of  all  men,  who  desire 
to  live  well,  and  would  fain  see  good  days,  especially  of  the 
great  and  those  in  authority,  to  promote  piety  as  the  best 
instrument  of  their  security  :  this  topic  enlarged  on. 

II.  Secondly,  piety  fits  a  man  for  all  conditions,  qualifying 
him  to  pass  through  them  with  the  best  advantage,  wisely, 
cheerfully,  and  safely.  Is  a  man  prosperous,  high,  or  wealthy  ? 
Piety  guards  him  from  all  the  mischiefs  incident  to  that  con- 
dition, and  disposes  him  to  enjoy  its  best  advantages :  this 
point  enlarged  on.  Is  he  poor  and  low  in  the  world  ?  Piety 
improves  and  sweetens  even  tbat  state,  keeping  his  spirits 
above  dejection,  and  freeing  him  from  all  grievous  anxiety  ; 
showing  him  that  although  he  may  seem  to  have  but  little,  yet 
he  has  a  certain  succor  and  never-failing  supply  in  God's  good 
providence,  &c. 

Difference  between  a  pious  and  an  impious  man,  under  simi- 
lar circumstances  of  adversity,  pointed  out.  Example  of  our 
Lord's  Apostles  under  their  ministry  proposed  to  us. 

III.  Thirdly,  piety  virtually  comprises  within  itself  all 
other  profits,  serving  the  designs  of  them  all :  whatever  kind  of 
desirable  good  we  can  hope  to  find  from  any  other  profit,  we 
may  be  assured  to  find  from  it.  He  that  hath  it,  shown  to  be 
ipso  facto  rich,  intitled  to  immense  treasures  of  the  most  pre- 
cious wealth;  also  to  be  in  truth  most  honorable.  The  pious 
man  shown  to  be  most  powerful.  Shown  also  to  enjoy  the  only 
true  pleasures,  hearty,  pure,  solid,  and  durable.  As  for 
safety,  the  pious  man  hath  it  most  absolute  and  sure,  resting 
under  the  shadow  of  God's  wings.    As  for  liberty,  he  most 


SERMON  II. 


intirely  and  truly  enjoys  it,  for  he  alone  is  free  from  captivity 
to  sin  and  Satan  :  with  respect  to  ease,  he  alone  knows  it, 
having  his  mind  exempt  from  the  distraction  of  care,  the 
disorder  of  passion,  the  anguish  of  conscience,  &c.  As  for 
knowlege,  he  alone  attains  it  to  any  purpose.  Evil  men,  says 
the  wise  man  himself,  understand  not  judgment  :  but  they  that 
leek  the  Lord  understand  all  things.  Farther,  the  pious  man 
is  enabled  and  disposed  most  to  benefit  and  oblige  others  :  this> 
point  enlarged  on.  Thus  all  the  fruits  and  consequences  of 
profit,  which  engage  men  so  eagerly  to  pursue  it,  do  in  the  best 
kind  and  highest  degree  result  from  piety. 

As  for  all  other  profits  unconnected  with  it,  they  are  but 
imaginary  and  counterfeit,  yielding  only  painted  shows  instead 
of  substantial  fruit.  This  instanced  in  the  seeking  of  profit 
from  bare  worldly  wealth — from  worldly  power — from  the 
enjoyment  of  pleasure.  If  the  mere  worldly  man  fancies 
safety,  he  deludes  himself ;  if  he  thirst  for  liberty,  he  will  be 
frustrated  :  ease  he  cannot  obtain  under  the  burthen  of  sin,  of 
care  and  trouble  :  if  he  means  to  acquire  wisdom,  he  will  find 
that  wisdom  and  impiety  are  incompatible  things ;  in  fine,  he 
will  be  mistaken  and  disappointed  in  all  his  projects,  whosoever 
fancies  any  true  profit  without  piety  :  this  point  enlarged  on. 

IV.  Fourthly,  that  commendation  is  not  to  be  omitted 
which  is  nearest  at  hand,  and  suggested  by  St.  Paul  himself, 
to  back  his  assertion  concerning  the  universal  profitableness 
of  piety  ;  for,  says  he,  it  hath  the  promise  of  the  life  that  now 
is,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come. 

As  for  the  blessings  of  this  life,  though  God  has  not  promised 
to  load  the  godly  man  with  affluence  of  worldly  things,  to 
pamper  the  flesh  and  gratify  the  wanton  fancy,  &c.  ;  yet  there 
is  no  good  thing  which  a  man  naturally  desires,  or  reasonably 
can  wish  for,  which  is  not  in  express  terms  proposed  as  a 
reward,  or  as  a  result  of  piety.  Extracts  from  holy  writ.  This 
stated  to  be  a  liberal  dispensation  even  of  temporal  good 

BAR.  VOL.  I.  B 


2fl 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  II. 


things  :  it  is  indeed  more  frequently,  abundantly,  and  explictly 
promised  to  God's  ancient  people,  as  an  ingredient  in  the  cove- 
nant made  with  him,  and  a  recompense  for  an  external  perform- 
ance of  their  law.  The  gospel  does  not  so  clearly  propound  it, 
nor  so  much  insist  on  it,  as  it  does  not  principally  belong  to 
the  evangelical  covenant ;  yet  as  the  celestial  blessings,  though 
not  openly  tendered  in  the  Jewish  law,  were  mystically 
couched  therein,  and  closely  designed  for  the  spiritual  and 
hearty  practisers  of  religion  ;  so  is  the  collation  of  temporal 
accommodations  to  be  understood  as  belonging  to  all  pious 
Christians.  There  is  a  codicil,  as  it  were,  annexed  to  the  New 
Testament,  in  which  God  signifies  his  intention  to  furnish  his 
children  with  all  that  is  needful  and  convenient  for  them  :  his 
bounty  does  not  fail  us  even  here.  This  shown  from  various 
texts  of  Scripture.  Thus  is  piety  profitable  as  having  the 
promises  of  this  life  ;  but  infinitely  more  so  is  it  as  having  the 
promises  of  the  life  to  come,  or  as  procuring  a  title  to  those 
incomparably  more  excellent  blessings  of  the  other  world,  that 
incorruptible,  undefiled,  and  never  fading  inheritance,  re- 
served for  us  in  heaven:  this  topic  enlarged  on.  Infinitely 
profitable  then  must  that  be  which  procureth  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. 


27 


SERMON  II. 

THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


I  TIMOTHY,  CHAP.  IV. — VERSE  8. 
 But  godliness  is  profitable  for  all  things. 

How  generally  men,  with  roost  unanimous  consent,  are 
devoted  to  profit,  as  to  the  immediate  scope  of  their  designs 
and  aim  of  their  doings,  if  with  the  slightest  attention  we  view 
what  is  acted  on  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) 
on  the  sea,  which  they  plod  for  in  the  closet,  and  dispute  for  in 
the  schools,  (yea,  may  we  not  add,  which  they  frequently  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  bitterly  envy  and  emulate,  so  fiercely  clamor  and 
inveigh,  so  cunningly  supplant  and  undermine  one  another; 
which  stuffeth  their  hearts  with  mutual  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 

*  4>tD,  56'  oftokw  wsjiiya  hvvaa&ov  -rarraxov.    Aristopll.  Plut. 


28 


BARROW. — SERMON  II. 


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  honor  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  endeavors  strike  at ; 
this  the  hire  which  men  demand  for  all  their  pains,  the  prize 
they  hope  for  all  their  combats,  the  harvest  they  seek  from  all 
the  year's  assiduous  labor.  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  pretence, 
(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  subtile  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.* 

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  color  or 
semblance  of  reason,  which  draweth  men  into,  and  carricth 
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  seem- 
ingly good.  The  gain  of  money,  or  of  somewhat  equivalent 
thereto,  is  therefore  specially  termed  profit,  because  it  readily 
supplieth  necessity,  furnisheth  convenience,  feedeth  pleasure, 
satisfieth  fancy  and  curiosity,  promoteth  ease  and  liberty,  sup- 
ported honor  and  dignity,  procureth  power,  dependencies,  and 
friendships,  rendereth  a  man  somebody  considerable  in  the 
world;  in  fine,  enableth  to  do  good,  or  to  perform  works  of 
beneficence  and  charity.    Profit  is  therefore  so  much  affected 

*  Prima  fere  vota.  et  cunctis  notissima  templis, 
Di\iti;e  at  crescant,  &c. — Juv.  Sat.  x. 
Omncs  ad  affectum  akpie  appetitum  utililatis  sua;  naturae  ipsius 
m;>gisterio  atque  impulsione  tluounltir. — Sah  .  ad  Eccl.  Calu.  2. 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS.  29 


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  our- 
selves, and  conformably  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  pains, 
throughly  compass  and  carry  it  on  ;  which  will  exceedingly 
turn  to  account,  and  bring  in  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. 

It  is  briefly  this,  to  be  religious  or  pious  ;  that  is,  in  our  minds 
stedfastly  to  believe  on  God  (such  as  nature  in  some  measure, 
and  revelation  more  clearly,  declareth  him,)  in  our  hearts  ear- 
nestly to  love  and  reverence  him,  through  all  our  practice  sin- 
cerely 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  ; 
demonstrating  it  really  to  be  so,  by  representing  some  of  those 
numberless  benefits  and  advantages  which  accrue  from  it,  ex- 
tending 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  following  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  mat- 
ters of  another  nature,  place,  and  time,  prescribing  in  the  first 
place  to  seek  things  spiritual,  heavenly,  and  future  ;  by  dispa- 
raging all  secular  wealth,  as  a  thing,  in  comparison  to  virtue 
and  spiritual  goods,  very  mean  and  inconsiderable ;  by  check- 


30 


BARROW.— SERMON  II. 


ing greedy  desires  and  aspiring  thoughts  after  it;  by  debarring 
the  most  ready  ways  of  getting  it,  (violence,  exaction,  fraud, 
and  flattery,)  yea,  straitening  the  best  ways,  eager  care  and 
diligence;  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  enjoyment  to  pride  or  pleasure  ;  by  injoining  liberal  com- 
munication thereof  in  ways  of  charity  and  mercy  ;  by  engaging 
men  to  expose  their  goods  sometimes  to  imminent  hazard,  some- 
times to  certain  loss  ;  obliging  them  to  forsake  all  things,  and 
to  embrace  poverty  for  its  sake. 

It  favoreth  this  conceit  to  observe  that  often  bad  men  by 
impious  courses  do  appear  to  thrive  and  prosper ;  while  good 
men  seem  for  their  goodness  to  suffer,  or  to  be  nowise  visibly 
better  for  it,  enduring  much  hardship  and  distress. 

It  furthereth  the  prejudice  that  some  persons  void  of  true  piety 
or  imperfectly  good,  (some  dabblers  in  religion,)  do  not  from 
their  lame,  slight,  and  superficial  performances,  feel  satisfactory 
returns,  such  as  they  did  presume  to  find  ;  and  thence,  to  the 
defamation  of  piety,  are  apt  to  say  with  those  men  in  the  pro- 
phet, '  It  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  humor  and  somewhat  discomposed  by  the 
urgent  pressures  of  affliction,  the  disappointments  and  crosses 
incident  to  all  men  here  in  this  region  of  trouble,  are  apt  to 
complain  and  express  themselves  dissatisfied,  saying  with  Job, 
'  It  profiteth  a  man  nothing  that  he  should  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  I  have  cleansed  my  heart  in  vain,  and  washed  my 
hands  in  innocency  :  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  incomparably  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  apprehension,  vain  and  inconsi- 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


31 


derate  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  us;  for  we  desire  not  the 
knowlege  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  recommendation  of 
St.  Paul's  project,  I  shall,  as  I  said,  propose  some  of  those  in- 
numerable advantages,  by  considering  which  the  immense  pro- 
fitableness of  piety  will  appear.  And  first  I  shall  mention 
those  considerations,  which  more  plainly  do  import  univer- 
sality; then  shall  touch  some  benefits  thereof,  seeming  more 
particular,  yet  in  effect  vastly  large,  and  of  a  very  diffusive  in- 
fluence. 

I.  First  then,  we  may  consider  that  piety  is  exceeding  useful 
for  all  sorts  of  men,  in  all  capacities,  all  states,  all  relations; 
fitting  and  disposing  them  to  manage  all  their  respective  con- 
cernments, to  discharge  all  their  peculiar  duties,  in  a  proper, 
just,  and  decent  manner. 

It  rendereth  all  superiors  equal  and  moderate  in  their  admi- 
nistrations ;  mild,  courteous,  and  affable  in  their  converse  ;  be- 
nign and  condescensive  in  all  their  demeanor  toward  their 
inferiors. 

Correspondently  it  disposeth  inferiors  to  be  sincere  and  faith- 
ful, modest,  loving,  respectful,  diligent,  apt  willingly  to  yield 
due  subjection  and  service. 

It  inclineth  princes  to  be  just,  gentle,  benign,  careful  for 
their  subjects'  good,  apt  to  administer  justice  uprightly,  to  pro- 
tect right,  to  encourage  virtue,  to  check  wickedness. 

Answerably  it  rendereth  subjects  loyal,  submissive,  obedient, 
quiet,  and  peaceable,  ready  to  yield  due  honor,  to  pay  the  tri- 
butes and  bear  the  burdens  imposed,  to  discharge  all  duties, 
and  observe  all  laws  prescribed  by  their  governors,  conscion- 
ably,  patiently,  cheerfully,  without  reluctancy,  grudging,  or 
murmuring. 

It  maketh  parents  loving,  gentle,  provident  for  their  chil- 
dren's good  education  and  comfortable  subsistence  ;  children 
again,  dutiful,  respectful,  grateful,  apt  to  requite  their  parents. 


S2 


E ARROW. — SERMON  II. 


Husbands  from  it  become  affectionate  and  compliant  to  their 
wives ;  wives  submissive  and  obedient  to  their  husbands. 

It  disposeth  friends  to  be  friends  indeed,  full  of  cordial  affec- 
tion and  good-will,  intirely  faithful,  firmly  constant,  industri- 
ously careful  and  active  in  performing  all  good  offices  mu- 
tually. 

It  engageth  men  to  be  diligent  in  their  calling,  faithful  to 
their  trusts,  contented  and  peaceable  in  their  station,  and  there- 
by serviceable  to  the  public  good. 

It  rendereth  all  men  just  and  punctual  in  their  dealing,  or- 
derly and  quiet  in  their  behavior,  courteous  and  complaisant  in 
their  conversation,  friendly  and  charitable  on  all  occasions,  apt 
to  assist,  to  relieve,  to  comfort  one  another. 

It  tieth  all  relations  more  fastly  and  strongly,  assureth  and 
augtuenteth  all  endearments,  tnforceth  and  establisheth  all  obli- 
gations 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  tem- 
poral reward,  selfish  design,  regard  to  credit,  or  other  the  like 
principles,  and  the  discharging  them  out  of  religious  conscience  : 
this  alone  will  keep  men  tight,  uniform,  resolute,  aud  stable; 
whereas  all  other  principles  are  loose  and  slippery,  will  soon 
be  shaken  and  falter. 

In  consequence  to  those  practices  springing  from  it,  piety  re- 
moveth  oppression,  violence,  faction,  disorders,  and  murmur- 
ings,  out  of  the  state  ;  schisms  and  scandals  out  of  the  church  ; 
pride  and  haughtiness,  sloth  and  luxury,  detraction  and  syco- 
phantry,  out  of  the  court ;  corruption  and  partiality  out  of  judi- 
catures; clamors  and  tumults  out  of  the  street;  brawlings, 
grudges,  and  jealousies  out  of  families  ;  extortion  and  cozenage 
out  of  trade  ;  strifes,  emulations,  slanderous  backbitings,  bitter 
and  foul  language  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  hand- 
some, all  that  is  convenient  or  pleasant  for  human  society  and 
common  life.  It  is  that  which,  as  the  wise  man  saith,  '  exalteth 
a  nation  ;'  it  is  that  which  '  establisheth  a  throne.' 

It  is  indeed  the  best  prop  and  guard  that  can  be  of  govern- 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


Blent  and  of  the  commonweal :  for  it  settleth  the  body  politic 
in  a  sound  constitution  of  health  ;  it  firmly  cementeth  the  parts 
thereof ;  it  putteth  all  things  into  a  right  order  and  steady 
course.  Tt  procureth  mutual  respect  and  affection  between 
governors  and  subjects,  whence  ariseth  safety,  ease,  and  plea- 
sure 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,  not  disposed  to  raise 
any  disturbance.  It  putteth  men  in  good  humor,  and  keepeth 
them  in  it ;  whence  things  pass  smoothly  and  pleasantly.  It 
cherisheth  worth,  and  encourageth  industry  ;  whence  virtue  flo- 
risheth,  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  certainly  procureth  the  bene- 
diction of  God,  the  source  of  all  welfare  and  prosperity : 
whence,  '  when  it  goeth  well  with  the  righteous,  the  city  re- 
joiceth  ;'  and,  'when  the  righteous  are  in  authority,  the  peo- 
ple 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  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  accom- 
modations of  their  state,  [t  is  in  all  respects  their  best  wisdom 
and  policy  ;  that  which  will  as  well  preserve  their  outward 
state  here,  as  satisfy  their  consciences  within,  and  save  their 
souls  hereafter.  All  the  Machiavelian  arts  and  tricks,  all  the 
sleights  and  fetches  of  worldly  craft,  do  signify  nothing  in 
comparison  to  this  one  plain  and  easy  way  of  securing  and  fur- 
thering their  interests. 

If  then  it  be  a  gross  absurdity  to  desire  the  fruits,  and  not 
to  take  care  of  the  root,  not  to  cultivate  the  stock,  whence  they 
sprout;  if  every  prince  gladly  would  have  his  subjects  loyal 
and  obedient,  every  master  would  have  his  servants  honest,  di- 
ligent, and  observant,  every  parent  would  have  his  children 


34 


BARROW. —  SERMON  II. 


officious  and  grateful,  every  man  would  have  his  friend  faithful 
and  kind,  every  one  would  have  those  just  and  sincere,  with 
whom  he  doth  negociate  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  disposi- 
tions 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  condition  ?  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  confidence  therein; 
minding  him  that  it  is  purely  the  gift  of  God,  that  it  absolutely 
dependeth  on  his  disposal,  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  him- 
self; 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  in  a  meaner  state.  It  instructeth  and  in- 
citeth  him  to  apply  his  wealth  and  power  to  the  best  uses,  to 
the  service  of  God,  to  the  benefit  of  his  neighbor,  for  his  own 
best  reputation,  and  most  solid  comfort.  It  is  the  right  ballast 
of  prosperity,  the  only  antidote  for  all  the  inconveniences  cf 
wealth;  that  which  secureth,  sweeteneth,  and  sauctifieth  all 
other  goods  :  without  it  all  apparent  goods  are  very  noxious, 
or  extremely  dangerous ;  riches,  power,  honor,  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  keepeth  his  spirits  up  above  dejec- 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


tion,  desperation,  and  disconsolateness;  it  1'reeth  him  from  all 
grievous  solicitude  and  anxiety;  showing- him,  that  although 
he  seemeth  to  have  little,  yet  he  may  be  assured  to  want  no- 
thing, he  having  a  certain  succor  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  conside- 
rable. A  pious  man  cannot  but  apprehend  himself  like  the 
child  of  a  most  wealthy,  kind,  and  careful  father,  who,  al- 
though 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  destitute,  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  be- 
yond all  present  things  to  hope  in,  to  comfort  himself  with; 
whereas  the  impious  person  hath  nothing  beside  present  ap- 
pearances to  support  or  solace  himself  by  ;  the  which  fail- 
ing, down  he  sinketh  into  dejection  and  despair.  Is  the  good 
man  in  affliction  ?  he  knoweth  that  it  cometh  not  on  him  with- 
out God's  wise  appointment,  nor  without  good  intention  to- 
ward him,  for  probation,  exercise,  and  improvement  of  his  vir- 
tues, or  for  wholesome  correction  of  his  bad  dispositions  ;  that 
it  is  only  physic  and  discipline  to  him,  which  shall  have  a 
comfortable  issue  ;  that  it  shall  last  no  longer  than  it  is  expe- 
dient for  him  that  it  should  :  wherefore  he  patiently  submitteth 
to  it,  and  undergoeth  it  cheerfully,  with  the  same  mind  where- 
with a  patient  swalloweth  down  an  unsavory  potion,  which  he 
presumeth  will  conduce  to  his  health.*  Never,  indeed,  hath 
any  man  enjoyed  more  real  content,  or  hath  been  more  truly 
satisfied,  than  good  men  have  been  in  a  seeming  depth  of  ad- 

*  Scimus  amicos  Dei  ab  amantissimo,  misericordissimo  Patre 
Deo  mala  ista  pcenalia  recipere,  non  ut  poenam  sen  vindictatn  ira- 


36 


BARROW.— SERMON  II. 


versity.  What  men  ever  on  earth  have  been  more  sorely 
afflicted,  have  underwent  greater  losses,  disgraces,  labors,  trou- 
bles, 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  consolation  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  hira,  his  burdens  ease  him  ;  his  duties  are  privileges, 
his  falls  are  the  grounds  of  advancement,  his  very  sins  (as 
breeding  contrition,  humility,  circumspection,  and  vigilance,) 
do  better  and  profit  him  :  whereas  impiety  doth  spoil  every 
condition,  doth  corrupt  and  embase  all  good  things,  doth  em- 
bitter all  the  conveniences  and  comforts  of  life. 

III.  Piety  doth  virtually  comprise  within  it  all  other  pro- 
fits, serving  all  the  designs  of  them  all :  whatever  kind  or  desi- 
rable 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  intitled  to  im- 
mense 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  wisdom  of  God  belong 
to  him,  to  be  ever,  on  all  fit  occasions,  employed  for  his  benefit. 
All  the  inestimable  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  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,  honor,  power,  pleasure,  safety,  liberty,  ease,  opportunity 
of  getting  knowlege,  means  of  benefiting  others;  all  these  we 

cundiae,  sed  magis  tit  correctiones  et  medicamcnta  stultitiae,  et  ad- 
jumenta  viitutis,  ut  inalleationes  sive  fabricationes,  et  tunsiones, 
sive  ahlutiones,  et  candidationes. — Guil.  Par.  de  Sacram. 

*  'EmiVous  fiiv  yap  eireKOv<pi£(v  ri  x°P«  T*)S  fJ-apTvpias,  Kai  f)  e'Ajrls  rav  iirrfy- 
yiXfiivwv,  Kai  f)  nphs  rbv  Xpwrbv  070111),  Kai  rb  irvfvua  rb  irarpiKdv. — .EuseU. 

v.  1.  Mart.  Lugd. 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


91 


shall  see  do  abundantly  accrue  from  piety,  and  in  truth  only 
from  it. 

The  pious  man  is  in  truth  most  honorable.  Inter  homines 
pro  a  ultimo  est  optimus,  saith  Seneca,  Ep.  xc.  whom  Solo- 
mon translateth  thus  ;  '  the  righteous  is  more  excellent  than 
his  neighbor.'  He  is  dignified  by  the  most  illustrious  titles, 
a  son  of  God,  a  friend  and  favorite  to  the  Sovereign  Kiri|i 
of  the  world,  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  judg- 
ments, wherein  true  honor  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  ;f  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  strengthened  him.'  He  is  able  to 
combat  and  vanish  him  that  is  6  ioxypus,  '  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  temp- 
tations. He  '  by  his  faith  overcometh  the  world'  with  a  con- 
quest far  more  glorious  than  ever  any  Alexander  or  Cesar 
could.  He,  in  fine,  doth  perform  the  most  worthy  exploits, 
and  deservetli  the  most  honorable  triumphs  that  man  can  do. 

The  pious  man  also  doth  enjoy  the  only  true  pleasures ; 
hearty,  pure,  solid,  durable  pleasures ;  such  pleasures  as  those, 
of  which  the  divine  psalmist  singeth  :  '  In  thy  presence  is  ful- 
ness of  joy  ;  at  thy  right  hand  there  are  pleasures  for  evermore  : 
that  '  all  joy  in  believing,'  that '  gaiety  of  hope,'  that  incessant 

*  Kot'  ak-!i$eiav  6  iya6bs  ixivoi  tijU7)tos  Al'istot.  Elll.  iii.  3. 

t  Tanlum  quantum  vult  potest,  qui  se  nisi  quod  debet  non  putat 
posse. — Senec.  Ep.  xc. 


38 


BARROW. — SERMON  II. 


'  rejoicing  in  the  Lord,'  and'  greatly  delighting  in  his  law,'  that 
continual  feast  of  a  good  conscience,  that '  serving  the  Lord  with 
gladness,'  that  'exceeding  gladness  with  God's  countenance,'  that 
'comfort  of  the  Holy  Spirit,'  that  'joy  unspeakable  and  full  of 
glory;'  the  satisfaction  resulting  from  the  contemplation  of 
heavenly  truth,  from  the  sense  of  God's  favor,  and  the  pardon 
of  his  sins,  from  the  influence  of  God's  grace,  from  the  hopes 
and  anticipation  of  everlasting  bliss;  these  are  pleasures  indeed, 
in  comparison  whereto  all  other  pleasures  are  no  more  than 
brutish  sensualities,  sordid  impurities,  superficial  touches, 
transient  flashes  of  delight;  such  as  should  be  insipid  and  un- 
savory to  a  rational  appetite  ;  such  as  are  tinctured  with  sour- 
ness and  bitterness,  have  painful  remorses  or  qualms  conse- 
quent.* 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  absolute  and  sure ; 
he  being  guarded  by  Almighty  power  and  wisdom;  'resting 
under  the  shadow  of  God's  wings  ;'  God  '  upholdinghim  with  his 
hand,  ordering  his  steps,  so  that  none  of  them  shall  slide,  hold- 
ing his  soul  in  life,  and  suffering  not  his  feet  to  be  moved ;'  he 
being,  by  the  grace  and  mercy  of  God,  secured  from  the 
assaults  and  impressions  of  all  enemies,  from  sin  and  guilt, 
from  the  devil,  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  intirely  and  truly  doth 
enjoy  that ;  he  alone  is  free  from  captivity  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  he 
observeth  is  worthily  called  the  '  perfect  law  of  liberty :'  the 
Lord  he  serveth  pretendeth  only  to  command  freemen  and  friends : 

*  Quid  enim  jucundins,  quam  Dei  Patris  et  Domini  recnuciliatio, 
quam  veritatis  revelatio,  quam  errorum  recognilio,  quam  tot  retro 
ciiminum  venia?  qua?  major  voluptas,  quam  fastiditim  ipsius  volup- 
tatis,  quam  saeculi  totius  contemptus,  quam  vera  libertas,  quam  con- 
scientia  integra,  quam  vita  sufficiens,  quam  mortis  timor  nullus,  &c.  ? 
— Tert.  de  Spectac.  29. 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


'  Ye  are  my  friends,'  said  he,  '  if  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  conscience,  from  the  drudgeries  and  troubles  of 
the  world,  from  the  vexations  and  disquiets  which  sin  pro- 
duceth.  He  findeth  it  made  good  to  him,  which  our  Lord 
inviting  him  did  promise,  '  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labor  and 
are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest:'  he  feeleth  the 
truth  of  those  divine  assertions,  '  Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  perfect 
peace,  whose  mind  is  stayed  on  thee  :'  and  '  great  peace  have 
they  which  love  thy  law,  and  nothing  shall  offend  them.' 

As  for  knowlege,  the  pious  man  alone  doth  attain  it  consi- 
derably, so  as  to  become  truly  wise  and  learned  to  purpose. 
'  Evil  men,'  said  the  wise  man  himself,  who  knew  well,  '  un- 
derstand not  judgment;  but  they  that  seek  the  Lord  under- 
stand all  things.'  It  is  the  pious  man  that  employeth  his 
mind  on  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  disappointed  in  his  endeavors,  nor  to  misspend  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  cannot  be  mistaken,  seeing  in  his  judgment 
and  choice  of  things  he  conspireth  with  infallible  wisdom. 
Therefore  6  fi<re/5(ii'  a^ws  ftXotracpe'i ,  '  the  pious  man  is  the 
exquisite  philosopher.'  '  The  fear  of  the  Lord,  that  is  wisdom  ; 
and  to  depart  from  evil  is  understanding.'  '  The  fear  of  the 
Lord'  (as  is  said  again  and  again  in  Scripture)  '  is  the  head  (or 
top)  of  wisdom.'  '  A  good  understanding  have  all  they  that  keep 
his  commandments.' 

Farther :  the  pious  man  is  enabled  and  disposed  (hath  the 

*  Ob  yap  itmv,  o\>k  Z<nw  4\<v6spos,  a\\'  1)  n6vos  t  Xptary  f»i>. — 
Curysost.  ad  J  heod. 


vi 


40 


BARROW. — SERMON  II. 


power  and  the  heart)  most  to  benefit  and  oblige  others.  He 
doth  it  by  his  succor  and  assistance,  by  his  instruction  and 
advice,  which  he  is  ever  ready  to  yield  to  any  man  on  fit 
occasion  :  he  doth  it  by  the  direction  and  encouragement  of 
his  good  example  :  he  doth  it  by  his  constant  and  earnest 
prayers  for  all  men  :  he  doth  it  by  drawing  down  blessings 
from  heaven  on  the  place  where  he  resideth.  He  is  on  all 
accounts  the  most  true,  the  most  common  benefactor  to  man- 
kind ;  all  his  neighbors,  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  philosophical  bravados  concerning  a  wise  man  being  only 
rich,  only  honorable,  only  happy,  only  above  fortune,  are  ve- 
rified in  the  pious  man  :  to  him  alone,  as  such,  with  a  sure 
foundation,  without  vanity  with  evident  reason,  those  aphorisms 
may  be  applied.  They  are  paradoxes  and  fictions  abstracting 
from  religion,  or  considering  men  only  under  the  light  and 
power  of  nature  :  but  supposing  our  religion  true,  a  good  Chris- 
tian soberly,  without  arrogance,  in  proportion  and  according  to 
the  measure  of  his  piety,  may  assume  them  to  himself  as  the 
holy  Apostles  did  :  '  I  possess  all  things,  I  can  do  all  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. 

If  from  bare  worldly  wealth  (that  which  usurpeth  the  name 
of  profit  here)  a  man  seeketh  honor,  he  is  deluded,  for  he  is 
not  thereby  truly  honorable  ;  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  despicable  : 
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. 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS.  41 


If  a  man  affecteth  power  thence,  he  is  grievously  mistaken  : 
for,  instead  thereof,  he  proveth  exceedingly  feeble  and  impo- 
tent, able  to  perform  nothing  worthy  a  man,  subject  to  fond 
humors  and  passions,  servant  to  divers  lusts  and  pleasures, 
captivated  by  the  Devil  at  his  pleasure,  overborne  by  tempta- 
tion, hurried  by  the  stream  of  the  world,  and  liable  to  the 
strokes  of  fortune. 

If  he  propounded!  to  himself  thence  the  enjoyment  of  plea- 
sure, he  will  also  much  fail  therein  :  for  in  lieu  thereof  he  shall 
find  care  and  trouble,  surfeiting  and  disease,  wearisome  satiety 
and  bitter  regret ;  being  void  of  all  true  delight  in  his  mind, 
satisfaction  in  his  conscience  ;  nothing  here  being  able  to  fur- 
nish solid  and  stable  pleasure. 

If  he  fancieth  safety,  he  deludeth  himself:  for  how  can  he 
be  safe,  who  is  destitute  of  God's  protection  and  succor  ;  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  destruction  are 
coming  to  seize  on  ;  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  continueth  impious  ;  servus 
tot  dominorum,  quot  vitiorum,  a  slave  to  so  many  masters  as 
he  keepeth  vices :  a  slave  to  himself  and  his  own  lusts :  car- 
rying about  with  him  the  fetters  of  unsatiable  desire,  being 
hampered  with  inconsistent  and  irregular  affections. 

Ease  he  cannot  obtain,  being  oppressed  with  unwieldy  bur- 
dens of  sin,  of  care,  of  trouble  ;  being  tossed  with  restless  agi- 
tations of  lust  and  passion ;  being  '  like  the  troubled  sea, 
which  cannot  rest,  whose  waters  cast  up  mire  and  dirt.' 

If  he  meaneth  to  get  wisdom,  he  is  out;  for  wisdom  and 
impiety  are  incompatible  things.  All  his  knowlege  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 


42 


BARROW. — SERMON  11. 


aud  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  accommodations  of  life  ;  who  constantly  feedeth  on  the 
coarsest  and  most  sordid  fare,  (the  dust  of  pelf,  the  dung  of 
sensuality ;)  who  hath  no  faithful  or  constant  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  pre- 
sumed 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  arbi- 
trarily disposeth  of  all  ?  Piety  therefore  is  the  only  profitable 
thing  according  to  just  esteem.  '  She  is  more  precious  than 
rubies,  and  all  the  things  we  can  desire  are  not  to  be  compared 
to  her.'  On  this  account  it  is  most  true,  what  the  Psalmist 
affirmefh,  '  a  little  that  the  righteous  hath  is  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  asser- 
tion concerning  the  universal  profitableness  of  piety;  'For,' 
saith  he,  '  it  hath  the  promise  of  the  life  thai  now  is,  and  of  that 
which  is  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  pro- 
mised 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  grati- 
fying wanton  faucy,  not  to  exempt  him  from  all  the  incon- 
veniences to  which  human  nature  and  this  worldly  state  are 
subject;  yet  hath  he  promised  to  furnish  him  with  whatever  is 
needful  or  convenient  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 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


43 


is  not  in  express  terms  proposed  as  a  reward,  or  a  result  of 
piety. 

In  general  it  is  declared  that  '  blessings  are  on  the  head  of 
the  just;'  that  '  no  good  thing  God  will  withhold  from  them 
that  walk  uprightly  ;'  that  whatever  otherwise  doth  fall  out,  it 
'  assuredly  shall  be  well  with  them  that  fear  God  ;'  that  '  blessed 
is  every  one  that  feareth  the  Lord,  that  walketh  in  his  ways :' — 
4  happy  shalt  thou  be,  and  it  shall  be  well  with  thee  ;'  that 
'  there  shall  no  evil  happen  to  the  just;'  that  '  all  things  work 
together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God.' 

Particularly  there  are  promised  to  the  pious  man, 

A  supply  of  all  wants. — '  The  Lord  will  not  suffer  the  soul 
of  the  righteous  to  famish.'  '  The  righteous  eateth  to  the  satis- 
fying of  his  soul.'  '  There  is  no  want  to  them  that  fear  God.' 
'The  young  lions  do  lack,  and  suffer  hunger;  but  they  that 
seek  the  Lord  shall  not  want  any  good  thing.' 

A  protection  in  all  dangers. — '  The  eye  of  the  Lord  is  on  them 
that  fear  him,  on  them  that  hope  in  his  mercy;  to  deliver  their 
soul  from  death,  and  to  keep  them  alive  in  famine.'  '  There 
shall  no  evil  befal  thee,  neither  shall  any  plague  come  nigh  thy 
dwelling :  he  shall  give  his  angels  charge  over  thee,  to  keep 
thee  in  all  thy  ways.' 

Guidance  in  all  his  undertakings  and  proceedings. — '  The 
steps  of  a  good  man  are  ordered  by  the  Lord.'  '  None  of  his 
steps  shall  slide.'  '  In  all  thy  ways  acknowlege  him,  and  he 
shall  direct  thy  paths.' 

Success  and  prosperity  in  his  designs. — '  Commit  thy  way 
unto  the  Lord  ;  trust  also  in  him,  and  he  shall  bring  it  to  pass.' 
'  Whatsoever  he  doeth,  it  shall  prosper.'  '  Thou  shalt  decree  a 
thing,  and  it  shall  be  established  ;  and  the  light  shall  shine  on 
thy  ways.'  '  The  Lord  shall  command  a  blessing  on  thee  in  thy 
storehouses,  and  in  all  that  thou  settest  thy  hand  unto.'  '  Thine 
expectation  shall  not  be  cut  off.' 

Comfortable  enjoying  the  fruits  of  his  industry. — 'Thou shalt 
eat  the  labor  of  thine  hands.' 

Satisfaction  of  all  reasonable  desires. — 'The  desire  of  the  right- 
eous shall  be  granted.'  '  Delight  thyself  in  the  Lord,  and  he  shall 
give  thee  the  desires  of  thine  heart.'  '  He  will  fulfil  the  desire  of 
them  that  fear  him  :  he  will  hear  their  cry,  and  will  save  them.' 


44 


BARROW. — SERMON  II. 


Firm  peace  and  quiet. — '  The  work  of  righteousness  shall  be 
peace;  and  the  effect  of  righteousness,  quietness,  and  assurance 
for  ever.'  '  Great  peace  have  they  which  love  thy  law.'  '  The 
fruit  of  righteousness  is  sowed  in  peace.' 

Joy  and  alacrity. — '  Light  is  sown  for  the  righteous,  and 
gladness  for  the  upright  in  heart.'  '  In  the  transgression  of 
an  evil  man  there  is  a  snare  :  but  the  righteous  doth  sing  and 
rejoice.' 

Support  and  comfort  in  afflictions.  — '  He  healeth  the 
broken  in  heart,  and  bindeth  up  their  wounds.'  *  Be  of  good 
courage,  and  he  shall  strengthen  your  heart,  all  ye  that  hope  in 
the  Lord.' 

Deliverance  from  trouble. — '  Many  are  the  afflictions  of  the 
righteous,  but  the  Lord  delivereth  him  out  of  them  all.'  '  He 
keepeth  all  his  bones,  not  one  of  them  is  broken.' 

Preservation  and  recovery  from  mishaps,  or  miscarriages. — 
'  Though  he  fall,  he  shall  not  be  utterly  cast  down  :  for  the 
Lord  upholdeth  him  with  his  hand.' 

Preferment  of  all  sorts,  to  honor  and  dignity,  to  wealth  and 
prosperity. — 'Wait  on  the  Lord,  and  keep  his  way;  and  he 
shall  exalt  thee  to  inherit  the  land.'  '  By  humility  and  fear 
of  the  Lord,  are  riches  and  honor.'  '  Blessed  is  the  man  that 
feareth  the  Lord — wealth  and  riches  are  in  his  house.' 
'  The  upright  shall  have  good  things  in  possession.'  '  If  they 
obey  and  serve  him,  they  shall  spend  their  days  in  prosperity, 
and  their  years  in  pleasure.'  '  The  tabernacle  of  the  righteous 
shall  florish.' 

Long  life. — 'The  fear  of  the  Lord  prolongeth  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.' 

A  good  name  enduring  after  death. — '  The  memory  of  the 
just  is  blessed.' 

Blessings  entailed  on  posterity. — '  His  seed  shall  be  mighty 
on  earth :  the  generation  of  the  upright  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  in- 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


45 


deed  more  frequently,  abundantly,  and  explicitly  promised 
unto  God's  ancient  people,  as  being  a  conditional  ingredient  of 
the  covenant  made  with  them,  exhibited  in  that  as  a  recompense 
of  their  external  performance  of  religious  works  prescribed  in 
their  law.  The  gospel  doth  not  so  clearly  propound  it,  or  so  much 
insist  on  it  as  not  principally  belonging  to  the  evangelical  cove- 
nant, the  which,  in  reward  to  the  performance  of  its  conditions 
by  us,  peculiarly  doth  offer  blessings  spiritual,  and  relating  to 
the  future  state  ;  as  also  scarce  deserving  to  be  mentioned  in 
comparison  to  those  superior  blessings.  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,  annexed  to  the 
New  Testament,  in  which  God  signifieth  his  intention  to  fur- 
nish his  children  with  all  that  is  needful  or  convenient  for  them. 
His  providence  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  on  him, 
to  recommend  our  business  to  him,  because  he  careth  for  us;' 
'  he  will  never  forsake  us;'  he  will  hear  our  prayers,  and  help 
us.  Hence  we  are  injoined  '  not  to  trust  in  uncertain  riches, 
but  in  the  living  God,  who  giveth  us  richly  all  things  to  enjoy.' 
Hence  it  is  said  that  '  the  divine  power  hath  given  us  all  things 
pertaining  unto  life  and  godliness,  through  the  knowlege  of  him 
that  hath  called  us  to  glory  and  virtue.'  Hence  it  is  promised 
by  our  Lord,  that,  '  if  we  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  all 
things  shall  be  added  to  us.'  Hence  it  is  inferred,  as  conse- 
quential to  the  nature  of  the  evangelical  dispensation,  that  we 
cannot  want  any  good  thing ;  '  He,'  saith  St.  Paul,  '  that 
spared  not  his  own  Son,  but  delivered  him  up  for  us  all, 
how  shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely  give  us  all  things  V  In 
tine,  hence  it  is  proposed  as  notorious,  that  nothing  is  permitted 
to  fall  out  otherwise  than  as  conduceth  to  our  good.  '  We 
know,'  saith  St.  Paul,  '  that  ail  things  work  together  for  good 
unto  those  that  love  God  :'  nor  '  will  God,'  in  any  case, '  suffer 


46 


EARROW. — SERMON  II. 


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  of  the  other  world  ;  those  '  indefectible 
treasures,'  that  '  incorruptible,  undefiled,  and  never-fading  in- 
heritance, reserved  in  heaven  for  us  ;'  that  '  exceeding  weight 
of  glory;'  those  'ineffable  joys  of  paradise;'  that  lightsome 
countenance  and  beatifying  presence  of  God  ;  that  unconceiva- 
bly  and  unexpressibly  joyful,  glorious,  perfect,  and  endless 
bliss ;  briefly,  all  that  is  comprised  and  intimated  in  those 
words  of  the  Apostle,  '  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  nei- 
ther have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  the  things  which  God 
hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him.'  Infinitely  profitable 
surely  must  that  be,  which  procureth  those  things  for  us  :  and 
in  these  respects  great  reason  had  St.  Paul  to  say  that  '  godli- 
ness is  profitable  for  all  things.' 

But  farther,  to  evidence  and  recommend  this  point,  I  might 
propound  certain  peculiar  advantages  arising  from  piety,  which 
have  a  very  general  influence  on  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  III. 


47 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  III. 

I  TIMOTHY,  CHAP.  IV. — VERSE  8. 

Some  other  considerations  proposed,  which  serve  to  recom- 
mend more  particularly  the  assertion  of  St.  Paul,  declaring  the 
great  profitableness  of  religion. 

I.  We  may  consider  that  religion  prescribes  the  truest  and 
best  rules  of  action,  enlightening  our  minds  and  rectifying  our 
practice  on  all  occasions,  &c.  Of  all  things  in  the  world  there 
is  nothing  more  generally  profitable  than  light :  its  benefits 
described.  The  like  benefits  does  religion,  which  is  the  light 
of  the  soul,  yield  to  it :  this  point  enlarged  on. 

Propriety  of  acting  regularly,  uniformly,  and  consistently, 
displayed.  Evils  which  beset  an  untractable  profane  man  who 
has  no  bridle  of  conscience  to  guide  or  check  him,  described  : 
advantages  which  attend  the  pious  man,  who  is  steadily  go- 
verned by  conscience,  and  has  a  regard  to  certain  principles. 

What  law  and  government  are  to  the  public,  that  is  piety  to 
each  man's  private  state,  and  to  ordinary  conversation  :  it  frees 
a  man's  own  life  from  disorder,  and  prompts  men  to  behave 
themselves  towards  each  other  with  security  and  confidence. 

And  the  advantage  appears  greater,  if  we  consider  that  the 
rules  which  it  prescribes  for  this  purpose  are  the  best  that  can 
be  ;  inasmuch  as  they  proceed  from  infallible  wisdom  and 
immense  goodness  :  the  beauty  and  utility  of  these  rules  en- 
larged on.  The  advantages  accruing  to  a  person  who  adheres 
to  these  rules  desciibed  :  the  evils  which  beset  him  who  neg- 
lects them.  In  short,  the  precepts  of  religion  are  no  other 
than  such  as  physicians  would  prescribe  for  the  health  of  the 


18 


SUMMARY  OF 


body,  politicians  for  the  peace  of  the  state,  philosophers  for  the 
tranquillity  of  the  mind,  &c. 

II.  We  may  consider  more  particularly,  that  piety  yields  to 
him  who  practises  it,  internal  content,  peace,  and  joy  in  the 
highest  degree  ;  that  it  frees  him  from  all  kinds  of  dissatisfac- 
tion, regret,  and  disquiet;  which  is  an  inestimable  advantage, 
since  the  happiness  and  misery  of  men  are  chiefly  seated  in  the 
mind  :  this  topic  enlarged  on. 

It  is  shown  that  from  the  practice  of  religion  alone,  such 
inward  content  and  pleasure  can  arise.  For  all  present  enjoy- 
ments of  this  world  are  transient,  and  of  any  that  are  to  come 
there  is  no  assurance.  There  is  nothing  here  below  large 
enough  to  fill  our  vast  capacities,  to  satiate  our  boundless 
desires,  or  to  appease  our  squeamish  delicacy :  this  topic 
enlarged  on. 

Boast  of  the  Epicureans,  that  by  discarding  the  belief  and 
dread  of  religion,  they  laid  a  foundation  for  tranquillity  of 
mind,  shown  to  be  vain. 

But  the  Epicurean's  success  in  subduing  religion  being 
granted,  it  is  shown  that  he  will  fail  in  obtaining  his  desired 
tranquillity,  unless  he  can  also  trample  down  reason,  new  mould 
human  nature,  and  subjugate  all  natural  appetites  and  pas- 
sions, &c. 

It  is  farther  shown,  by  a  distinct  survey  of  all  the  grounds 
and  sources  of  content,  that  religion  only  can  afford  it :  this  is 
the  case,  whether  content  be  expected  to  result  from  the  well 
governing  and  ordering  of  our  passions  ;  from  a  hearty  appro- 
bation of  our  own  conduct,  when  we  recollect  that  we  have 
acted  according  to  wisdom,  justice,  and  duty;  from  a  sound 
and  healthy  constitution  of  soul  ;  from  good  success  in  our 
attempts,  and  from  prosperous  events  befalling  us  ;  from  secu- 
rity against  danger,  trouble,  want,  and  all  such  evils;  from 
sufficiency,  real  or  apprehended. 

III.  Since  happiness,  or  the  summum  bcnum,  the  utmost 


SERMON  Til. 


49 


scope  of  human  desire  has  been  mentioned,  it  may  be  added, 
that  piety  surely  confers  it,  or  that  happiness,  whatever  it  be, 
has  an  essential  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  :  this  subject  enlarged  on. 

1  V.  It  is  a  peculiar  advantage  of  piety,  that  it  furnishes 
employment  fit  and  worthy  of  us,  grateful  and  beneficial  to  us. 
Man  being  a  busy  active  creature,  whose  thoughts  are  in 
restless  motion,  and  whose  desires  are  ever  stretching  at  some- 
what, will  always  be  working  good  or  evil  to  himself :  very 
profitable  therefore  to  him  must  that  thing  be,  which  determines 
him  to  act  well,  to  spend  his  care  and  pains  on  that  which  is 
truly  advantageous  to  him,  &c.  Religion  farther  considered 
as  an  employment  most  proper  for  us  as  reasonable  creatures  ; 
as  an  employment  most  beneficial  to  us ;  as  an  employment 
most  constant,  occupying  all  our  faculties ;  as  a  sweet  and 
grateful  business.  In  fine,  the  light  of  nature  has  discerned 
that,  were  it  not  for  such  an  employment,  this  would  be  a 
lamentable  world  to  live  in.  Speech  of  the  Emperor  M.  An- 
toninus on  this  point  recorded. 

V.  A  considerable  benefit  of  piety  is,  that  it  affords  the 
best  friendships  and  sweetest  society,  for  which  man  is 
framed,  and  without  which  he  cannot  well  live.  It  makes 
God  our  friend,  who  is  infinitely  better  than  all  others; 
and  consefpjently.it  engages  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  :  it 
procures  for  us  the  friendship  of  the  good  angels,  that  puissant 
host  of  happy  spirits :  it  engages  also  the  blessed  saints  in 
glory,  the  spirits  of  men  "perfected,  the  church  of  the  first-born  ; 
and  it  renders  all  sorts  of  people  our  friends  :  to  good  men  it 
unites  us  in  holy  communion  ;  it  reconciles  enemies  ;  and  by  it 
all  conversation  becomes  tolerable,  grateful,  or  useful.  In 
fine,  piety  renders  a  man  a  true  friend  and  a  good  companion 
BAR.  VOL.  I.  C 


50 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  III. 


to  himself,  satisfied  in  himself,  able  to  converse  freely  and  plea- 
santly with  his  own  thoughts :  indeed  it  is  only  from  want  of 
true  piety  that  solitude  is  to  most  men  irksome  and  tedious. 

So  many,  and  even  more  great  and  precious  advantages 
accrue  from  piety;  whence  we  may  well  conclude  with  St. 
Paul,  that  godliness  is  profitable  for  all  things.  Final  ex- 
hortation. 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


5* 


SERMON  III. 

THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


1  TIMOTHY,  CHAP.   IV. — VERSE  8. 
 lJut  godliness  is  profitable  for  all  things. 

In  discoursing  formerly  on  these  words,  I  did  propound  di- 
vers general  considerations,  serving  to  confirm  and  recommend 
this  assertion  of  St.  Paul.  I  shall  now  insist  on  some  others 
more  particular,  which  yet  seem  much  conducible  to  the  same 
purpose,  declaring  the  vast  utility  of  religion  or  piety. 

I.  We  may  consider  that  religion  doth  prescribe  the  truest 
and  best  rules  of  action  ;  thence  enlightening  our  mind,  and 
rectifying  our  practice  in  all  matters,  and  on  all  occasions,  so 
that  whatever  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  converse  with  the  world,  and 
have  all  things  set  before  us ;  by  it  we  truly  and  easily  discern 
things  in  their  right  magnitude,  shape,  and  color;  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  consequently,  our  health,  our 
vigor,  and  activity,  are  preserved.  The  like  benefits  doth  reli- 
gion, which  is  the  light  of  our  soul,  yield  to  it.  Pious  men  are 
'  children  of  the  light ;'  pious  works  are  works  of  light  '  shining 
before  men.'    '  God's  word'  (or  true  religion)  '  is  a  lamp  unto 


52 


BARROW. — SERMON  III. 


our  feet,  and  a  light  unto  our  path  ;'  enabling  us  to  perceive 
things,  and  judge  rightly  of  them  ;  teaching  us  to  walk  straightly 
and  surely,  without  erring  or  stumbling  ;  qualifying  us  to  em- 
brace 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  in  doubt,  wandereth  in  mistake,  trippeth  on  all  occa- 
sions, and  often  falleth  into  mischief.  '  The  path  of  the  just,' 
saith  the  wise  man,  '  is  as  the  shining  light.'  '  The  way  of  the 
wicked  is  as  darkness,  they  know  not  at  what  they  stumble.' 
'  Righteousness  keepeth  him  that  is  upright  in  the  way ;  but 
wickedness  overthroweth  the  sinner.' 

Again  :  it  is  a  fair  ornament  of  a  man,  and  a  grand  conve- 
nience both  to  himself  and  to  others  with  whom  he  converseth 
or  dealeth,  to  act  regularly,  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.  Eveu  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  uncertainties. 
But,  secluding  a  regard  to  the  precepts  of  religion,  there  can 
hardly  be  any  sure  or  settled  rule,  which  firmly  can  engage  a 
man  to,  or  effectually  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  profane  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 
humor  transporteth  him  ;  whither  any  such  variable  and  unac- 
countable 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 

*  Aria  eunti  aliquid  extremum  est;  error  immcnsus  est. — Sen. 
Bp.  16. 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


58 


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  on  him,  so  '  unstable  he  is  in  all  his  ways.'  He  is  in 
effect  a  mere  child,  all  humor  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  un- 
tractable,  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  him- 
self and  is  intelligible  to  others:  he  presently  descrieth  what 
in  any  case  he  is  to  do,  and  can  render  an  account  of  his  act- 
ing :  you  may  know  him  clearly,  and  assuredly  tell  what  he 
will  do,  and  may  therefore  fully  confide  in  hini.f 

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  disorder  and  dis- 
traction ;  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  prescribeth  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  declare.  What 
of  old  he  said  to  the  Israelites  concerning  their  laws,  may  with 
greater  advantage  be  applied  to  those  which  should  regulate 
our  lives:  'And  now,  Israel,  what  doth  the  Lord  thy  God 

*  Nihil  est  tarn  occupatum,  tam  multiforme,  tot  ac  tain  variis 
affectibus  concisum  atque  laceratum,  quam  mala  mens. — Quint, 
xii.  1. 

+  Oi  inteiKfh  eavrois  d/xovoovvi  (cal  a\\r]\nii,  ttrl  t£>v  avTwv  uvits,  as  ehrsiv 
twv  toiovtuiv  (ue'eei  y&p  to,  (SouA^oto,  koI  ov  /uerap^ei,  tiainp  eijpnros. — 
Arist.  Elb.  ix.  6. 


54  BARROW.  SERMON  III. 

require  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  soul ;  to  keep  the  command- 
ments 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 :  '  Thou 
earnest  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,  '  is  holy  ;  the  commandment  is  holy,  just,  and  good  :' 
as  such  it  is  recommended  to  us  by  its  Author,  so  we  Christians 
are  by  many  great  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  acknowleged, 
so  the  general  consent  doth  avow,  and  so  even  common  experience 
doth  attest.  For,  heartily  to  love  and  reverence  the  Maker  of 
all  things,  who  by  every  thing  apparent  before  us  demon- 
strateth  himself  incomprehensibly  powerful,  wise,  and  good,  to 
be  kind  and  charitable  to  our  neighbors,  to  be  just  and  faithful 
in  our  dealings,  to  be  sober  and  modest  in  our  minds,  to  be 
meek  and  gentle  in  our  demeanors,  to  be  staunch  and  tempe- 
rate 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  couducible  to  the  public  good  of 
men,  and  to  each  man's  private  welfare.  So  notoriously  bene- 
ficial they  appear,  that  for  the  justification  of  them  we  might 
appeal  even  to  the  judgment  and  conscience  of  those  persons, 
who  are  most  concerned  to  derogate  from  them.  For  hardly 
can  any  man  be  so  senseless,  or  so  lewd,  as  seriously  to  disap- 
prove 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  persons  wantonly  and  heed- 
lessly 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  good- 
ness of  their  persons  and  of  their  ways  :)  but  the  understanding 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


of  men  can  hardly  be  so  corrupted,  that  piety,  charity,  justice, 
temperance,  meekness,  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  pre- 
judice and  disaffection,  such  things  and  such  persons  cannot 
but  in  judgment  and  heart  be  esteemed  by  all  men.  The  lustre 
of  them  by  a  natural  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  irresistibly  conquereth  and 
commandetli  in  the  apprehensions  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  sweetened,  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,  we  shall  per- 
ceive him  to  have  a  cheerful  mind  and  composed  passions,  to 
be  at  peace  within,  and  satisfied  with  himself ;  to  live  in 
comely  order,  in  good  repute,  in  fair  correspondence,  and  firm 
concord  with  his  neighbors.  If  we  mark  what  preserveth  the 
body  sound  and  lusty,  what  keepeth  the  mind  vigorous  and 
brisk,  what  saveth  and  improveth  the  estate,  what  tipholdeth 
the  good  name,  what  guardeth  and  graceth  a  man's  whole  life  ; 
it  is  nothing  else  but  proceeding  in  our  demeanor  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  florish  there  ;  that 
all  things  proceed  on  sweetly  and  fairly;  that  men  generally 
drive  on  conversation  and  commerce  together  contentedly, 
delightfully,  advantageously,  yielding  friendly  advice  and  aid 
mutually,  striving  to  render  one  another  happy  ;  that  few 
clamors  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 


56 


BARROW. — SERMON  III. 


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  consider  a  place  where  these  are  much  neglected,  it  will 
appear  like  a  wilderness  of  savage  beasts,  or  a  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  ambi- 
tion and  avarice,  from  envy  and  spite,  and  the  like  disposi- 
tions, which  religion  chiefly  doth  interdict,  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  needful  for  the  peace  of  the  state,  as 
Epicurean  philosophers  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  volun- 
tarily impose  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  perceive,  that  to  observe 
them  was  more  for  their  benefit  and  interest  than  to  violate 
them,'  is  far  more  true  concerning  the  divine  laws. 

II.  AVe  may  consider  more  particularly,  that  piety  yieldeth 
to  the  practiser  all  kind  of  interior  content,  peace,  and  joy ; 
freetli  him  from  all  kinds  of  dissatisfaction,  regret,  and  disquiet ; 
which  is  an  inestimably  great  advantage  :  for  certainly  the 
happiness  and  misery  of  men  are  wholly  or  chiefly  seated  and 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


57 


founded  in  the  mind.  If  that  is  in  a  good  state  of  health,  rest, 
and  cheerfulness,  whatever  the  person's  outward  condition  or 
circumstances  be,  he  cannot  be  wretched  :  if  that  be  distem- 
pered or  disturbed,  he  cannot  be  happy.  For  what  if  a  man 
seem  very  poor ;  if  he  be  abundantly  satisfied  in  his  own  pos- 
sessions and  enjoyments  ?  What  if  he  tasteth  not  the  pleasures 
of  sense;  if  he  enjoyeth  purer  and  sweeter  delights  of  mind? 
What  if  tempests  of  fortune  surround  him  ;  if  his  mind  be  calm 
and  serene?  What  if  he  have  few  or  no  friends;  if  ye  yet  be 
throughly  in  peace  and  amity  with  himself,  and  can  delight- 
fully 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  on  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  emi- 
nence 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  displeased  with, 
if  he  condemneth,  if  he  despiseth  himself  ?  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  distraction  at  home, 
and  is  at  cruel  variance  with  himself?  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  minis- 
tereth  reason  of  content,  and  disposeth  the  mind  to  enjoy  it ; 
that  it  extirpateth  the  grounds  and  roots  of  discontent;  that  it 

*  Chrysostom.  in  Rom.  i.  Or.  1.    Evdv/ilav  yap  xai  xapa-v  ovk  ipxns 

[ityedos,  oil  x/,T?Mc*TWI'  TAijflos,  oil  8vvao~Teias  uyxos,  oiiK  itrxvs  cw/xaros,  oil  iro- 
XtiT<A€ia  TpmrefV,  oi>x  i,ucrnW  tc6o-fJ.os,  oiiK  a\\o  ti  t£c  avBpunrivwv  iroi6?v  ttu- 
8iv,  a\\'  1)  KaripDa/jia  p.6vov  Tri/ev/xaTucbv,  itat  avvciSbs  iyaduv. 


58  BARROW.- -  SERMON  III. 

is  the  only  mother  of  true,  sober  alacrity  and  tranquillity  of 
mind,  will,  on  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  ;  and  of  any  future  thing,  in  this  king- 
dom of  change  and  contingency,  there  can  be  no  assurance. 
There  is  nothing  below  large  enough  to  fill  our  vast  capacities, 
or  to  satiate  our  boundless  desires,  or  to  appease  our  squeamish 
delicacy.  There  is  nothing  whose  sweetness  we  do  not  pre- 
sently exhaust  and  suck  dry  :  whereof  thence  we  do  not  soon 
grow  weary,  quite  loathing,  or  faintly  liking  it.  There  is  uot 
any  thing  which  is  not  slippery  and  fleeting  ;  so  that  we  can 
for  a  long  time  hope  to  possess  it,  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  disappointments  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  dignity,  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  pros- 
pect which  we  abhor,  would  avoid,  do  fear  may  come.  If 
therefore  we  would  find  content,  we  must  uot  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  unsatisfying,  uncertain,  and  unstable  things, 
supplieth  us  with  goods  adequate  to  our  most  outstretched 
wishes,  infallibly  sure,  incessantly  durable  ;  '  an  indefectible 
treasure,  an  incorruptible  inheritance,  an  unshakable  kingdom,'* 
a  perfect  and  endless  joy,  capable  to  replenish  the  vastest 

*  Ortaavpiif  avtitXinrToi',  KKripovojxiav  &ipSapToy,  ySacriAei'av  aaaKtuTov. 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


59 


heart :  which  he  that  hath  a  good  title  to  or  a  confident  hope 
of,  liow  can  lie  be  otherwise  than  extremely  pleased,  than  fully 
content?  It  assureth  the  favor  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  1  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  dis- 
grace 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  knowethwhat  is  best;  by  that  Goodness  which 
intirely  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  favor,  what  can  make  any  grievous  impression 
on  him  ?  Wrhat  other  affections  than  such  as  are  most  grateful 
and  pleasant  can  lodge  in  his  soul  ?  Joy  and  peace  have  natu- 
ral 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  having,  by  their 
atheistical  explications  of  natural  effects,  and  common  events 
here,  discarded  the  belief  and  dread  of  religion,  they  had  laid 
a  strong  foundation  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  consecpjently,  what,  said 
they,  could  forbid,  but  that  we  should  be  intirely  contented, 
glad,  and  happy  ? — Nos  excequat  victoria  ccclo  ;  no  god  then 
surely  could  be  more  happy  than  we.  But  their  attempt  in 
many  respects  was  vain  and  lame.  They  presumed  of  a  vic- 
tory which  it  is  impossible  to  obtain  :  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  battle  the  potent  arguments 
which  persuade  religion  ;  (those  arguments,  which  the  visible 
constitution  of  nature,  the  current  tradition  of  all  aaes.  the 


so 


BARROW. — SERMON  III. 


general  consent  of  men,  the  pregnant  attestations  of  history 
and  experience  concerning  supernatural  and  miraculous  events, 
do  afford  ;)  since  the  being  and  providence  of  God  have  proofs 
so  clear  and  valid,  that  no  subtlety  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  questions  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 
substantial  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  dreadful  mischiefs,  which 
religion  threateneth  to  the  transgressors  of  its  precepts.  Were 
there  indeed  but  reason  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  perlectest  assurance  imaginable, 
yet  vast  advantage  on  the  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  deny- 
ing providence,  as  ever  generally  they  have  consented  in  avow- 
ing it ;  were  there  a  pretence  of  miracles  for  establishing  the 
mortality  and  impunity  of  souls,  as  there  have  been  number- 
less strongly  testified  by  good  witnesses  and  great  events,  to 
confirm  the  opposite  doctrines ;  did  most  wise  and  sober  men 
judge  in  favor  of  ir religion,  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  is  a  wildness,  not  to  dread  the  least  possibility  of 
incurring  such  horrible  mischiefs :  any  hazard-  of  such  import- 
ance cannot  but  startle  a  man  in  his  wits.  To  be  in  the  least 
obnoxious  to  eternal  torments,  if  men  would  think  on  it  as  men, 
(that  is,  as  rational  and  provident  creatures,)  could  not  but  dis- 
turb them.  And  indeed  so  it  is  in  experience;  for  whatever 
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  en- 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS.  61 


terprise  of  subduing  religion  :  yet  except  therewith  he  can  also 
trample  down  reason,  new  mould  human  nature,  subjugate  all 
natural  appetites  and  passions,  alter  the  state  of  things  here, 
and  transform  the  world,  he  will  yet  in  the  greatest  part  fail 
of  his  conceited  advantages;  very  short  he  will  fall  of  triumph- 
in"  in  a  contented  and  quiet  mind.  That  which  accrueth 
thence  will  at  most  be  no  more  than  some  negative  content,  or 
a  partial  indolency,  arising  from  his  being  rescued  from  some 
particular  cares  and  fears  ;  w  hich  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  afflict  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  sufficient  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, 
without  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  commonly  hath  ingredients  not  only  some  - 
what unsavory,  but  very  bitter  and  loathsome.  We  may  add, 
that  had  those  profane  attempters  quite  banished  religion,  they 
with  it  must  have  driven  away  all  the  benefits  and  comforts  of 
it:  which,  even  supposing  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  firmly  subsist  without 
conscience  :  which  being  gone,  human  life  would  be  the  most 
disorderly,  most  unsafe,  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 


•  Non  tempestale  vexor,  sed  nausea. — Senec.  de  Tranq.  An.  1. 


62 


BARROW.— SERMON  III. 


man  (by  reason  of  competitions  and  contentions  for  them,  no- 
wise restrainable)  could  enjoy  quietly  or  safely.  It  is  there- 
fore piety  alone,  which,  by  raising  hopes  of  blessings  and  joys 
incomparably  superior  to  any  here,  that  cannot  be  taken  from 
us,  can  lay  any  ground  of  true  content,  of  substantial  and  posi- 
tive content;  such  as  consistent  not  only  in  removing  the  ob- 
jects and  causes  of  vexatious  passions,  but  in  employing  the 
most  pleasant  affections  (love,  hope,  joy,)  with  a  delightful 
complacence  on  their  proper  and  most  noble  objects.  '  The 
kingdom  of  God'  (and  that  only,  no  other  kingdom  hath 
that  privilege)  '  consisteth  in  righteousness'  (first,  then  in) 
'  peace  and  spiritual  joy.'  No  philosopher,  with  truth  and  rea- 
son, can  make  that  overture  to  us  which  our  Lord  doth ; 
'  Come  unto  me,  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  stayed  on 
thee.' 

If  indeed  we  distinctly  survey  all  the  grounds  and  sources  of 
content,  it  will  appear  that  religion  only  can  afford  it. 

Doth  it  result  from  a  well  governing  and  ordering  our  pas- 
sions ?  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 
rules,  doth  set  them  on  worthy  objects,  doth  temper  and  tune 
them  in  just  harmony,  doth  seasonably  curb  and  check  them, 
doth  rightly  correct  and  reform  them.  * 

This  no  bare  reason  (which  naturally  is  so  dim  and  so  fee- 
ble in  man)  can  achieve  :  much  less  can  unreasonableness  do 
it,  which  is  ever  prevalent  in  irreligious  persons.  Their  pas- 
sions do  ever  run  wildly  and  at  random,  in  no  good  pace,  with- 
in 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  them- 
selves, with  intestine  broils  and  conflicts,  with  dissatisfactions 
and  regrets.    Hence,  '  there  is  no  peace  to  the  wicked.'    '  He 

*  Mala  mens— cum  insidiatur,  spe,  curis,  labore  distringiltir  ;  et 
jam  cum  scelcris  compos  merit,  solicituiline,  poenitentia,  poenarum 
omnium  exspectatione  torquetur. — Quint,  xii.  I. 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


63 


is  like  the  troubled  sea,  which  cannot  rest.'  '  God  (as  St. 
Austin  spcaketh)  hftth  said  it,  and  so  it  is,  every  inordinate  mind 
is  a  punishment  to  itself.'* 

Dotli  content  spring  from  a  hearty  approbation  of,  or  a  com- 
placence in  a  man's  own  actions;!  from  reflexion  that  he  con- 
stantly doth  act  according  to  reason  and  wisdom,  to  justice  and 
duty  ?  Then  can  the  pious  man  alone  pretend  to  it,  who  know- 
eththal  he  walketh  '  inoffensively  toward  God  and  man;'  that 
he  consulteth  his  own  best  interest  and  welfare ;  that  assuredly 
no  bad  consequence  can  attend  his  unblameable  behavior ; 
that  most  wise  men  have  declared  their  approbation  of  his  pro- 
ceedings ;  that,  if  he  prove  in  his  chief  design  mistaken,  yet  no 
mischief  can  thence  befal  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  distempers  of  vice  and  passion.  The  impious  man 
is  infirm,  out  of  order,  full  of  disease  and  pain,  according  to  the 
prophet's  description  of  him  ; — '  The  whole  head  is  sick,  and  the 
whole  heart  faint  :  from  the  sole  of  the  foot  even  unto  the 
hi  ail  there  is  no  soundness  in  it ;  but  wounds,  and  bruises,  and 
putrefying  sores.' 

Doth  content  arise  specially  from  good  success  in  our  at- 
tempts, or  from  prosperous  events  befalling  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  wisdom.  As  he  only  hath  ground 
to  hope  for  success,  because  he  confideth  in  God,  because  he 
dutifully  seeketh  God's  help,  because  God  is  favorably  disposed 
toward  him,  because  God  '  ordereth  his  steps,'  because  God  is 

*  Nulla  major  poena  nequitiae  est,  quatn  <|iiod  sibi  ac  suis  displi- 
cet.— Sen.  Ep.  42. 

Ti/ueupi'a  Traarjs  aSim'os  aKu\ov$os. — Plat,  de  Le£.  5. 

Dens  jussit,  et  ita  est,  .Sibi  poena  est  omnia  inordinatus  animus. — 
Au;r.  Conf. 

t  Nisi  sapienti  sua  non  placent :  omnia  staltitia  laborat  fastidio 
sui. — Sen.  Ep.  9. 


64 


BARROW. — SERMON  III. 


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  honor  and  service  :  so  he  only  can  be  sa- 
tisfied with  the  appearance  of  success,  being  able  with  assur- 
ance to  say  after  St.  Paul,  '  we  know  that  to  those  who  love 
God  all  things  cooperate  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  befal  the  just:  there  shall 
no  plague  come  near  his  dwelling.'  '  God  keepeth  all  his 
bones,  not  one  of  them  is  broken.'  '  He  delivereth  the  righ- 
teous out  of  their  troubles.'  '  The  desire  of  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  appre 
hended  ?  This  appertaineth  peculiarly  to  the  pious  man  :  for, 
having  Cod,  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  (per  abrapKtias,  with  sufficiency)  is,'  as 
St.  Paul  saith,  fieyus  nopiafibs,  '  the  great  way  of  gaining.' 
He  saith  it  not,  as  supposing  godliness  and  contentedness 
to  be  separable  ;  but  rather  as  implying  godliness  therefore 
to  be  most  gainful,  because  sufficiency  and  contentedness  do 
ever  attend  it.  In  fine,  if  that  saying  of  Seneca  be  true, 
that,  '  if  to  any  man  the  things  he  possesseth  do  not  seem  most 
ample,  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  amendment  of. 
For  nothing  can  be  greater  or  better  than  God,  in  whom  he 
hath  a  stedfast  propriety,  whose  infinite  power  and  wisdom 
are  engaged  to  do  him  the  utmost  good  that  he  is  capable  of. 
And  farther, 

III.  Seeing  we  have  mentioned  happiness,  or  the  summum 

*  Si  cui  sua  non  videntur  amplissimn,  licet  totius  tnnndi  dominus 
sit,  tamen  miser  est. — Sen.  Ep,  9. 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


65 


bonum,  the  utmost  scope  of  human  desire,  we  do  add,  that  piety 
doth  surely  confer  it.  Happiness,  whatever  it  be,  hath  cer- 
tainly an  essential  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  under- 
take 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  desirable  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  considerable,  and  in  com- 
parison 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  whatever  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 
aggregation  and  affluence  of  all  goods;  piety  surely  is  the  main 
ingredient  and  principal  cause  thereof.  All  other  goods  with- 
out it  are  insignificant  and  unuseful  thereto  ;  and  it  cannot  be 
wanting  where  piety  is.  Be  a  man  never  so  rich,  so  powerful, 
so  learned  anil  knowing,  so  prosperous  in  his  affairs,  so  honor- 
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  favor  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  conveniences ;  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  con- 
taineth  all  the  goods  we  are  capable  of ;  he  is  possessed  thereof 
in  hope  and  certain  reversion,  there  is  but  a  moment  to  pas< 
before  his  complete  fruition  of  it.    The  want  of  all  other  petty 


66 


BARROW. — SERMON  III. 


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  much  inculcated  in  holy  Scripture, 
'  Blessed  is  every  one  that  feareth  the  Lord,  that  walketh  in 
his  ways;  happy  shall  he  be,  and  it  shall  be  well  with  him.' 
Piety  is  indeed  fraught  with  beatitudes,  every  part  thereof 
yieldeth  peculiar  blessedness.  To  the  love  of  God,  to 
charity  toward  our  neighbor,  to  purity  of  heart,  to  meekness, 
to  humility,  to  patience,  to  mercifulness,  to  peaceableness, 
beatitude  is  ascribed  by  our  Lord,  the  great  Judge  and 
Dispenser  of  it.  Each  religious  performance  hath  happy 
fruits  growing  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.  It  is  a  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  deter- 
mineth  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  endeavors,  on 
occupations  worthy  the  dignity  of  our  nature,  suiting  the  ex- 
cellency 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  and  drink, 
like  horses  or  like  swine  ;  but  to  sport  and  play,  like  children 
or  apes ;  but  to  bicker  and  scuffle  about  trifles  and  imperti- 
nences, like  ideots?  what,  but  to  scrape  or  scramble  for  useless 
pelf;  to  hunt  after  empty  shows  and  shadows  of  honor,  or  the 
vain  fancies  and  dreams  of  men  ?  what,  but  to  wallow  or  bask 
in  sordid  pleasures,  the  which  soon  degenerate  into  remorse  and 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


67 


bitterness  ?  To  which  sort  of  employments  were  a  man  con- 
fined, what  a  pitiful  thing  would  he  be,  and  how  inconsider- 
able were  his  life  !  Were  a  man  designed  only,  like  a  fly,  to 
buzz  about  here  for  a  time,  sucking  in  the  air,  and  licking  the. 
dew,  then  soon  to  vanish  back  into  nothing,  or  to  be  trans- 
formed 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  on  doing  things  great  and  noble  as  can  be ;  it 
engageth  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  on  the  imitation  of  God,  and 
aiming  at  the  resemblance  of  his  perfections ;  on  obtaining  a 
friendship  and  maintaining  a  correspondence  with  the  High  and 
Holy  One  ;  on  fitting  our  minds  for  conversation  and  society 
with  the  wisest  and  purest  spirits  above  ;  on  providing  for  an 
immortal  state,  on  the  acquist  of  joy  and  glory  everlasting.  It 
employeth  us  in  the  divinest  actions,  of  promoting  virtue,  of 
performing  beneficence,  of  serving  the  public,  and  doing  good 
to  all  :  the  being  exercised  in  which  things  doth  indeed  render 
a  man  highly  considerable,  and  his  life  excellently  valuable. 

It  is  an  employment  most  proper  to  us  as  reasonable  men. 
For  what  more  proper  entertainments  can  our  mind  have  than 
to  be  purifying  and  beautifying  itself,  to  be  keeping  itself  and 
its  subordinate  faculties  in  order,  to  be  attending  on  the  ma- 
nagement of  thoughts,  of  passions,  of  words,  of  actions  depend- 
ing on  its  governance  ? 

It  is  an  employment  most  beneficial  to  us  ;  in  pursuing  which 
we  greatly  better  ourselves  and  improve  our  condition  ;  we  be- 
nefit and  oblige  others;  we  procure  sound  reputation  and  steady 
friendships  ;  we  decline  many  irksome  mischiefs  and  annoy- 
ances ;  we  do  not,  like  those  in  the  prophet,  '  spend  our  labor 
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  labor  which  we  take  herein. 

It  is  an  employment  most  constant,  never  allowing  sloth  or 


<>8 


BARROW. — SERMON  III. 


listlessness  to  creep  in,  incessantly  busying  all  our  faculties  with 
earnest  contention  ;  according  to  that  profession  of  St.  Paul, 
declaring  the  nature  thereof,  '  Herein  always  do  I  exercise  my- 
self, to  have  a  conscience  void  of  offence  toward  God  and 
toward  man.'  Whence  it  is  called  a  '  fight,'  and  a  '  race,' 
implying  the  continual  earnestness  of  attention  and  activity 
which  is  to  he  spent  thereon. 

It  is  withal  a  sweet  and  grateful  business  ;  for  it  is  a  pious 
man's  character,  that  '  he  delighteth  greatly  in  God's  command- 
ments ;'  that  'the  commandments  are  not  grievous  to  him;' 
that  it  is  '  his  meat  and  drink  to  do  God's  will ;'  that  '  God's 
words  (or  precepts)  are  sweeter  than  honey  to  his  taste;'  that 
'  the  ways  of '  religious  '  wisdom  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all 
her  paths  are  peace.'  Whereas  all  other  employments  are  wea- 
risome, and  soon  become  loathsome ;  this,  the  farther  we  pro- 
ceed in  it,  the  more  pleasant  and  satisfactory  it  groweth.*  There 
is  perpetual  matter  of  victory  over  bad  inclinations  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  performances  of  devo- 
tion and  all  duty,  the  satisfaction  of  good  conscience,  the  assured 
hope  of  reward,  the  foretastes  of  future  bliss,  do  season  and 
sweeten  all  the  labors  taken,  and  all  the  difficulties  undergone 
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 
on,  this  would  be  a  lamentable  world  to  live  in.  There  was, 
for  instance,  an  emperor  great  and  mighty  as  ever  did  wield 
sceptre  on  earth,  whose  excellent  virtue,  coupled  with  w  isdom, 
(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  conveniences  which  his  royal 
estate  and  well  settled  prosperity  might  afford,  (the  which 

*  Nod  potest  cuiquara  semper  idem  placeie,  nisi  rectum. — Sen. 

20. 

Dedit  hoc  providentia  hominibus  munus,  ut  lionesta  magis  juva- 
reut.— Quint,  i.  12. 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


69 


surely  he  had  fully  tasted  aud  tried,)  did  yet  thus  express  his 
thoughts:  TV  pot  Cyv  ev  Kotrpy  Ktvy  dewv,  i)  npovntas  Kevtp ; 
'■  What  doth  it  concern  me  to  live  in  a  world  void  of  God,  or 
iroid  of  providence  V*  To  govern  the  greatest  empire  that  ever 
was,  in  the  deepest  calm  ;  to  enjoy  the  largest  affluences  of 
wealth,  of  splendor,  of  respect,  of  pleasure  ;  to  be  loved,  to  be 
dreaded,  to  be  served,  to  be  adored  by  so  many  nations  ;  to 
liave  the  whole  civil  world  obsequious  to  his  will  and  nod  ;  all 
these  things  seemed  vain  aud  idle,  not  worthy  of  a  man's  re- 
gard, 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  is  a  considerable  benefit  of  piety,  that  it  affordeth  the 
best  friendships  and  sweetest  society.  Man  is  framed  for 
society,  and  cannot  live  well  without  it;f  many  of  his  facul- 
ties would  be  useless,  many  of  his  appetites  would  rest  unsatis- 
fied in  solitude.  To  have  a  friend  wise  and  able,  honest  and 
good,  unto  whom  on  all  occasions  we  may  have  recourse  for 
advice,  for  assistance,  for  consolation,  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  and 
most  sweet  unto  us.  J 

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,  succor  in  all  our 
needs,  comfort  in  all  our  troubles,  satisfaction  to  all  our  desires. 
Unto  him  it  ministereth  a  free  address  on  all  occasions;  with 
him  it  alloweth  us  continually  a  most  sweet  and  pleasant  in- 
tercourse. 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 

*  M.  Ant.  ii.  11.  vi.  10. 

t  Nulliiis  boui  sine  socio  jucunda  possessio  est. — Sen.  Ep.  6. 
I  It  aliai  urn  rerum  nobis  inuata  dulcedo  est,  sic  amicitiae. — Sen. 
Ep.  9. 


70  BARROW. — SERMON  III. 

him  he  is  not  only  encouraged,  but  obliged  to  resort  in  need  : 
on  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 
serviceable  to  us,  '  Thou  shalt  be  in  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  on  condition  of  piety. 
And  God  himself  confirmeth  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  on  thee.'  And,  '  The  sun  shall  not  smite  thee  by  day, 
nor  the  moon  by  night.'  '  Thou  shalt  tread  on  the  lion  and 
adder,  the  young  lion  and  the  dragon  shalt  thou  trample  under 
foot.'  *  They  shall  take  up  scorpions;  and  if  they  drink  any 
deadly  thing,  it  shall  not  hurt  them  :'  (so  our  Lord  promised  to 
his  disciples.)  Not  only  the  heavens  shall  dispense  their  kindly 
influences,  and  the  earth  yield  her  plentiful  stores,  and  all  the 
elements  discharge  their  natural  and  ordinary  good  offices ;  not 
only  the  tame  and  sociable  creatures  shall  on  this  condition 
faithfully  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,  the  lions  to  Daniel,  the  viper  to  St.  Paul,  the 
fire  to  the  three  children. 

But  especially  piety  doth  procure  the  friendship  of  the  good 
angels,  that  puissant  host  of  glorious  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 
honor,  what  a  blessing  is  this,  to  have  such  an  innumerable 
company  of  noble  friends  (the  courtiers  and  favorites  of  hea- 
ven) deeply  concerned  and  constantly  vigilant  for  our  wel- 
fare ! 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS.  71 


It  also  engageth  the  blessed  saints  in  glory,  '  the  spirits  of  just 
men  perfected,'  '  the  church  of  the  first-born,'  to  bear  dearest  af- 
fection to  us,  to  further  our  prosperity  with  their  good  wishes 
and  earnest  prayers,  mightily  prevalent  with  God. 

It  rendereth  all  sorts  of  men  our  friends.  To  good  men  it 
uniteth  us  in  holy  communion  ;  the  communion  of  brotherly 
charity  and  hearty  goodwill,  attended  with  all  the  good  offices 
they  are  able  to  perform  :  to  other  men  it  reconcileth  and  en- 
deareth  us;  for  that  innocent  and  inoffensive,  courteous  and 
benign,  charitable  and  beneficent  demeanor,  (such  as  piety  doth 
require  and  produce,)  are  apt  to  conciliate  respect  and  affection 
from  the  worst  men.  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  disposition  of  mind,  and 
in  effect  when  occasion  sei  veth,  is  toward  all  men  ;f  being  sen- 
sible of  his  obligation  to  love  all  men,  and,  '  as  he  hath  oppor- 
tunity, to  do  good  to  all  men.'  It  assureth  and  more  strictly 
endeareth  our  friends  to  us.  For  as  it  maketh  us  hearty,  faith- 
ful, constant  friends  to  others  ;  so  it  reciprocally  tieth  others  to 
us  in  the  like  sincerity  and  fastness  of  good-will. I 

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,  grateful,  and  use- 
ful. For  a  pious  man  is  not  easily  disturbed  with  any  crossness 
or  perverseness,  any  infirmity  or  impertinency  of  those  he  con- 
verseth  with :  he  can  bear  the  weaknesses  and  the  failings  of 
his  company  ;  he  can  by  wholesome  reflexions  on  all  occur- 
rences advantage  and  please  himself.  $ 

In  fine,  piety  rendereth  a  man  a  true  friend  and  a  good  com- 

*  Sen.  de  Benef.  vii.  21. 

t  Qui  sibi  amicus  est,  scito  hunc  amicum  omnibus  esse. — Sen. 
Ep.  6. 

t  OS  i.ya6o\  rjSeh  aWfaois.— Arist.  Eth.  viii.  4. 

§  SuvSiiytiv  T€  outoj  lavrt?  $ov\(rai-  fiSeus  yap  avrb  iroie?. — (Aristot. 
Eth  ix.  4.)  tw  tc  yap  irtirpayn&wv  iirLTfpireh  al  (wrjfitu}  «ol  t«c  fi(\\6pruv 
lAirlSfS  ayaffai. 


72  BARROW. — SERMON  HI. 

panion  to  himself;  satisfied  in  himself,  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 
sometimes  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  converse  with  their  own  souls,  and  hardly  dare  look 
on  their  own  hearts  and  consciences  :  whence  they  become 
aliens  from  home,  wholly  unacquainted  with  themselves,  most 
ignorant  of  their  own  nearest  concernments,  no  faithful  friends 
or  pleasant  companions  to  themselves  ;  so  for  refuge  and  ease 
they  unseasonably  run  into  idle  or  lewd  conversation,  where 
ihey  disorder  and  defile  themselves. f  But  the  pious  man  is, 
likeScipio, '  never  less  alone  than  when  alone  :'J  hissolitude  and 
retirement  is  not  only  tolerable,  but  commonly  the  most  grate- 
ful and  fruitful  part  of  his  life  ;  he  can  ever  with  much  pleasure 
and  more  advantage  converse  with  himself;  digesting  and  mar- 
shalling his  thoughts,  his  affections,  his  purposes  into  good 
order;  searching  and  discussing  his  heart,  reflecting  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  questions,  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  pro- 
vidence, of  grace  ;  praising  God  for  his  excellent  benefits  and 
mercies;  confessing  his  defects  and  offences;  deprecating  wrath 
and  imploring  pardon,  with  grace  and  ability  to  amend;  praying 

*  Qua;ris  quid  profecerim?  amicus  esse  mihi  coepi. — Sen.  Ep.  6. 
t  Nemo  est,  cui  nou  satius  sit  cum  quolibet  esse,  quam  secum. — 
Sen.  Ep.  25. 

"Evioi  rbv  iSiov  plov,  ws  cn-epWoraToi'  Bea/ia,  irpotiihuv  oiix  uirofitvovtriv , 
&C — Plut.  irepl  UoXvirp.  p.  916. 

ZriTovatv  o't  tioxOypol  fieff  wv  avirrijieptvaovaiv,  kavjovs  8e  <ptvyovaiv. — Arist 
ix.  4. 

%  Nunquam  minus  solus,  quam  cum  solus. 


THE  PROFITABLENESS  OF  GODLINESS. 


73 


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  com- 
modious 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  express,  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  ingrafted  in  us,  labor  to  acquire  it ;  if  we  have  it,  that 
we  should  endeavor  to  improve  it,  by  constant  exercise,  to  the 
praise  of  God,  the  good  of  our  neighbor,  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. 

*  Acquiescit  sibi,  cogitationibus  suis  traditus. — Sen.  Ep.  9. 

Sapiens  nunquam  solus  esse  potest,  habet  serum  omnes  qui  sunt, 
quique  unquam  fuerunt  boni ;  et  animum  libcrum  quocunque  vult 
transfert:  quod  corpore  non  potest,  cogitatione  complectitur ;  et  si 
hominum  inops  fuerit,  loquitur  cum  Deo.  Nunquam  minus  solus 
erit,  quam  cum  solus  fuerit. — Hier.  adv.  Jo\in.  i.  28. 


BAR. 


VOL.  I. 


D 


74 


SUMMARY  OF 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  IV. 

1  SAMUEL,  CHAP.  II. — VERSE  30. 

The  words  of  the  text  were  uttered  immediately  by  God  him- 
self, and  therefore  may  well  command  our  attention.  They 
plainly  imply  two  things;  a  duty  required  of  us,  to  honor 
God ;  and  a  reward  preferred  to  us  on  the  performance  of  that 
duty,  being  honored  by  God.  The  method  of  this  discourse  is, 
first,  to  estimate  the  reward,  then  to  explain  the  duty  ;  after- 
wards to  show  briefly  why  in  reason  the  duty  is  injoined  ;  how 
in  effect  the  reward  is  conferred. 

I.  The  reward  may  be  considered  either  absolutely,  as  to 
what  it  is  in  itself ;  or  relatively,  as  to  its  rise,  and  whence  it 
comes. 

1.  For  itself,  it  is  honor;  a  thing-,  if  valued  according  to  the 
rate  it  commonly  bears,  of  highest  price  among  all  the  objects 
of  human  desire,  the  chief  reward  unto  which  the  greatest  and 
best  actions  pretend  :  this  point  enlarged  on  :  reasons  given 
why  honor  is  in  such  request  and  of  such  force.  The  appetite 
for  it  shown  to  be  rooted  in  our  very  nature :  examples  of  this 
ambition  in  eminent  men.  A  moderate  regard  for  honor  shown 
even  to  be  commendable,  as  an  instance  of  good-will  towards 
others,  and  an  argument  of  humility  as  it  concerns  ourselves. 
The  authority  also  of  the  more  cool  and  candid  sort  of  philoso- 
phers alleged  for  its  commendation,  inasmuch  as  they  have 
ranked  honor  among  the  principal  of  things  desirable,  and 
adorned  it  with  fairest  eulogies.  But  beyond  all  this,  the  holy 
Scripture,  that  most  certain  standard  by  which  we  may  examine 
and  determine  the  true  worth  of  things,  does  not  teach  us  to 


SERMON  IV. 


75 


slight  honor,  but  rather  in  its  fit  order  and  just  measure  to  love 
and  prize  it :  this  is  not  only  shown  to  be  the  case  in  temporal 
affairs,  but  the  blessed  state  hereafter  is  represented  and  recom- 
mended to  us  as  a  state  of  honor  and  glory  ;  to  be  ambitious  of 
which  is  the  character  of  a  good  man  :  Rom.  ii.  6.  7.  Such  is 
the  precious  reward  proposed  to  us  in  itself :  to  obtain  this  re- 
ward our  text  prescribes  to  us  the  certain  and  the  only  way. 

2.  Such  a  benefit  is  here  tendered  to  us  (which  yet  more 
highly  enhances  its  worth)  by  God  himself :  /,  saith  he,  will 
honor :  he  who  is  the  prime  author  of  all  good,  is  in  especial 
manner  the  sovereign  dispenser  of  honor.  The  king,  we  say,  is 
the  fountain  of  honor.  What  any  king,  as  the  representative 
and  delegate  of  God,  is  in  his  particular  kingdom,  that  is  the 
Almighty  absolutely  and  independently  in  all  the  world  :  the 
excellence  and  surety  of  his  grants  enlarged  on.  Consideration 
of  what  it  is  which  is  here  required  of  us,  or  wherein  this  ho- 
noring of  God  consists,  that  we  may  thereby  discern  when  we 
perform  this  duty,  and  when  we  are  deficient  therein. 

II.  There  are  several  ways  of  honoring  God,  or  several  parts 
and  degrees  of  this  duty  ;  all  of  which  may  be  referred  to  two 
sorts,  according  to  a  distinction  suggested  by  St.  Paul,  1  Cor. 
vi.  20. :  one  of  them  being,  as  it  were,  the  form  and  soul,  the 
other  the  matter  and  body  of  the  duty. 

1.  The  soul  of  that  honor  which  is  required  of  us  towards 
God,  is  the  internal  esteem  and  reverence  which  we  should  bear 
in  our  hearts  for  him  ;  signifying  that  we  have  impressed  on  our 
minds  such  conceptions  about  him  as  are  suitable  to  the  perfec- 
tion of  his  nature,  to  the  eminency  of  his  state,  to  the  just  qua 
lity  of  his  works  and  actions;  that  we  apprehend  him  to  be, 
what  he  really  is,  in  his  nature  superlatively  good,  wise,  power- 
ful, and  just  :  this  point  enlarged  on. 

2.  The  bodily  partconsistsin  outward  expressions  and  perform- 
ances, whereby  we  declare  our  esteem  and  reverence  of  God, 
and  produce  or  promote  the  like  in  others.    This  viewed  first  in 


7G 


SUMMARY  OF 


its  general  or  gross  bulk  ;  next  surveyed  in  its  principal  mem- 
bers. 

First,  in  general,  God  is  honored  by  a  willing  and  careful 
practice  of  all  piety  and  virtue  for  conscience  sake,  or  in 
avowed  obedience  to  his  will.  This  is  the  most  natural  ex- 
pression of  our  reverence  towards  him,  and  the  most  effectual 
way  of  promoting  the  same  in  others :  instanced  in  the  conduct 
of  a  good  subject  towards  his  prince  ;  and  in  this  we  are  encou- 
raged by  the  precepts  of  holy  Scripture. 

Secondly  ;  there  are  some  members  of  this  duty  deserving  a 
particular  consideration ;  some  acts  which  more  signally  con- 
duce to  the  illustration  of  God's  glory.  Such  are,  1.  the  fre- 
quent and  constant  performance  of  all  religious  duties,  in  a  seri- 
ous, reverent  manner  :  2.  the  using  all  things  peculiarly  related 
to  him,  his  holy  name  and  word,  his  holy  places  and  times, 
with  especial  respect  :  3.  the  yielding  due  observance  to  his 
deputies  and  ministers :  4.  the  freely  spending  what  he  has 
given  us  in  works  of  piety  and  charity  :  5.  all  penitential  acts 
by  which  we  submit  unto  God,  and  humble  ourselves  before 
him  :  6.  the  cheerfully  undergoing  afflictions  or  losses  in  pro- 
fession of  his  truth,  or  obedience  to  his  commands  :  7.  espe- 
cially the  discharging  faithfully  those  offices  with  which  God 
has  intrusted  us,  improving  diligently  the  talents  he  has  com- 
mitted to  us,  and  using  carefully  those  means  and  opportunities 
which  he  gives  us  of  doing  good:  this  topic  enlarged  on,  and 
recommended  most  strongly  to  those  who  are  in  power  and  au- 
thority, whose  example  has  the  strongest  effect  and  most  exten- 
sive influence  on  others. 

III.  It  is  shown  why  the  duty  is  required  of  us,  or  how  rea- 
sonable it  is.  This  point  so  clear,  that  many  words  need  not 
be  spent  on  it.  God  surely  does  not  exact  honor  from  us  be- 
cause he  needs  it,  because  he  is  the  better  for  it,  or  because  he 
delights  in  it  for  itself :  this  we  cannot  suppose  if  we  consider 
his  nature  and  attributes.  It  is  then  only  his  pure  goodness  that 


SERMON  IV. 


77 


moves  him,  for  our  benefit,  to  demand  it  of  us.  For  to  honor 
God  is,  1.  shown  to  be  the  most  proper  work  of  reason  :  2. 
a  most  pleasant  duty :  3.  that  it  disposes  us  to  imitate  him  : 
4.  that  it  is  most  beneficial  to  us,  because  by  an  eternal  rule 
of  justice  our  final  welfare  is  annexed  to  it,  God  having  pro- 
mised to  confer  honor  on  those  who  honor  him.  And, 

IV.  This  promise  he  makes  good  several  ways ;  some  of  which 
are  briefly  suggested.  1.  The  honoring  God  is  of  itself  an 
honorable  thing,  the  employment  which  ennobles  heaven  itself. 
2.  By  it  we  are  immediately  instated  in  great  honor ;  we 
enter  into  noble  relations,  acquire  illustrious  titles,  enjoy  glo- 
rious privileges,  are  adopted  into  God's  family,  and  are  styled 
his  children.  3.  By  God's  peculiar  ordinance  honor  is  natu- 
rally consequent  on  our  honoring  him ;  for  he  has  made  good- 
ness a  noble  thing,  an  object  of  esteem  and  reverence  to  all  men. 
4.  By  his  extraordinary  providence,  as  there  is  reason  and 
occasion,  he  interposes  to  maintain  and  further  the  reputation 
of  those  who  honor  him.  5.  Whereas  men  are  naturally  in- 
clined to  regard  the  judgment  of  posterity,  and  are  anxious  to 
leave  a  good  name  behind  them,  God  so  disposes  things  that 
the  memory  of  the  just  shall  be  blessed.  Lastly,  to  those  who 
honor  him  here,  he  has  reserved  an  honor  hereafter,  to  which  all 
the  glories  of  this  world  are  but  as  duskish  fleeting  shadows — 
an  honor  most  solid,  most  durable  ;  an  eternal  weight  of  glory. 


78 


BARROW. — SERMON  IV. 


SERMON  IV. 
THE  REWARD  OF  HONORING  GOD. 


I  SAMUEL,  CHAP.  II. — VERSE  30. 
For  them  that  honor  me  I  will  honor. 

The  words  are  in  the  strictest  sense  the  word  of  God,  uttered 
immediately  by  God  himself ;  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  reflexion  thereon ;  but  to  take  the  words 
separately,  as  a  proposition  of  itself,  affording  a  complete  in- 
struction and  ample  matter  of  discourse.  And  as  such,  they 
plainly  imply  two  things  :  a  duty  required  of  us  to  honor  God ; 
and  a  reward  proffered  to  us  on  performance  of  that  duty,  being 
honored  by  God.  It  is  natural  for  us,  before  we  are  willing 
to  undertake  any  work,  to  consider  the  reward  or  benefit  accru- 
ing 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 
endeavoring  to  estimate  the  reward,  then  to  explain  the  duty. 
Afterward  I  mean  to  show  briefly  why  in  reason  the  duty  is 
enjoined  ;  how  in  effect  the  reward  is  conferred. 

I.  The  reward  may  be  considered  either  absolutely,  as 
what  it  is  in  itself ;  or  relatively,  as  to  its  rise,  and  whence 
it  comes. 

1.  For  itself,  it  is  honor  ;  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 


THE  REWARD  OF  HONORING  GOD. 


79 


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  on  the  lives  of  men;  the 
desire  of  obtaining  and  maintaining  which  doth  commonly  over- 
bear 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  undertak- 
ings 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  vigor:  that  for  honor  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  laborer 
and  artificer  doth  spend  his  sweat  and  stretch  his  sinews.  The 
principal  drift  of  all  this  care  and  industry  (the  great  reason  of 
all  this  scuffling  for  power,  this  searching  for  knowlege,  this 
scraping  and  scrambling  for  wealth)  doth  seem  to  be,  that  men 
would  live  in  some  credit,  would  raise  themselves  above  con- 
tempt.* 

In  such  request,  of  such  force,  doth  honor  appear  to  be.  If 
we  examine  why,  we  may  find  more  than  mere  fashion  (or  mu- 

*  "ISois  8'  av  Kai  ruv  IStwTuv  tovs  eVieiKe OTaTous,  virlp  &\Xov  p.ei>  ovtievhs  av 
rb  Jjjf  avTtKaTa\Ka£afi(t>ovs-  virep  Si  tov  -rvx^v  Ka\5js  8<S|t)s,  airo9vqtTKeiv  404- 
Xovras.— Isocr.  Orat.  ad  Philip. 

Mors  turn  aequissitno  animo  appelitur,  cum  suis  se  laudibus  vita 
occideus  consolari  potest. — Cic.  i.  Tusc. 

—  Laudis  avidi  pccunias  liberales  erant,  gloriam  ingentem  divi- 
tias  honestas  volebant ;  banc  ardentissime  dilexerunt,  propter  banc 
vivere  voluerunt,  pro  bac  et  mori  non  dubitaverunt.  Caeteras  cu- 
piditates  hujus  unius  ingcnti  cupiditate  presserunt. — Aug.  de  Civ. 
Dei,  v.  12. 

Ai  yap  SwatrreTai  /col  5  ttXovtos  Sia  rrjn  n^v  tartv  aiperi. — Arist.  Ell), 
iv.  3. 

Honos  alit  artes,  omnesque  incenduntur  ad  studia  gloria,  &c. — 
Cic.  Tusc.  Quaest.  1. 


fiO 


BARROW. — SERMON  IV. 


tual  imitation  and  consent)  to  ground  the  experiment  on. 
There  is  one  obvious  reason  why  no  mean  regard  should  be 
had  thereto;  its  great  convenience  and  usefulness:  for  that  a 
man  cannot  himself  live  safely,  quietly,  or  pleasantly,  without 
some  competent  measure  thereof;  cannot  well  serve  the  public, 
perform  offices  of  duty  to  his  relations,  of  kindness  to  his 
friends,  of  charity  to  his  neighbors,  but  under  its  protection, 
and  with  its  aid  :  it  being  an  engine  very  requisite  for  the  ma- 
naging 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  eds;e  on  his  endeavors  :  for  every  one  allows 
a  favorable  ear  to  his  discourse,  lends  an  assisting  hand  to  his 
attempts,  grants  a  ready  credence  to  his  testimony,  and  makes 
a  fair  construction  of  his  doings,  whom  he  esteems  and  respects. 
So  is  honor  plainly  valuable  among  the  bona  utilia,  as  no  small 
accommodation  of  life;  and  as  such,  reason  approves  it  to  our 
judgment.* 

But  searching  farther,  we  shall  find  the  appetite  of  honor  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  in- 
fancy, (before  the  use  of  reason,  or  speech;)  even  little  chil- 
dren being  ambitious  to  be  made  much  of,  maintaining  among 
themselves  petty  emulations  and  competitions,!  as  it  were 
about  punctilios  of  honor.  We  may  observe  it  growing  with 
age,  waxing  bigger  and  stronger  together  with  the  increase  of 
wit  and  knowlege,  of  civil  culture  and  experience  ;  that  the 
maturest  age  doth  most  resent  and  relish  it ;  that  it  prevails 
most  in  civilised  nations ;  that  men  of  the  best  parts,  of  the 
highest  improvements,  of  the  weightiest  employments,  do  most 

*  Vide  Hicr.  Ep.  ad  Celant. 

Conscientia  nobis  necessaria  est,  fania  proxima.    Qui  conscientia 
fidens,  famam  negligit,  crudelis  est.— Aug. 
Tlpbs  XPC'°S  hnHfiuav  opyavovii  5<i£a. — Galen. 

Nec  vero  negligenda  fama  est ;  nee  mediocre  telum  ad  res  geren- 
das  existimare  oportet  benevolentiam  civium. — Cic.  de  Amic. 
Vide  Chrys.  torn.  vi.  Orat.  17. 

t  Vidi  ego  et  expertus  sum  zelantem  parvulum,  &c— Aug. 


THE  REWARD  OF  HONORING  GOD. 


&1 


zealously  affect  it  and  stand  on  it ;  that  they  who  most  strug- 
gle 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  can- 
not dispute  it  down,  or  persuade  it  away  ;  the  anchoret  can- 
not with  all  his  austerities  starve  it,  or  by  his  retirement  shun 
it :  no  affliction,  no  poverty,  no  wretchedness  of  condition  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  desarts  and  solitudes  ;*  so  close  it  sticks  to  our  nature. 
Plato  saith,  it  is  the  last  coat  which  a  wise  man  doth  put  off. 
But  I  question  whether  he  could  show  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  honor;  who  talk 
like  Chrysippus,  that  a  wise  man  for  reputation  sake  will  not 
so  much  as  stretch  out  his  finger ;  or  like  Seneca,  that  we 
should  do  every  thing  purely  for  conscience  sake,  without  any 
regard  to  men's  opinion  ;  who  make  harangues  and  write  vo- 
lumes against  glory  f)  do  yet  appear  by  their  practice,  some- 
times, by  so  doing,  to  aim  at  it :  even  as  men  do  usually  com- 
plain of  and  eagerly  quarrel  with  that  which  they  most  affect 
and  woo.  Chrysippus  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  subtilty  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  like  a  Stoic,  could  not  but  commonly 
act  like  a  man,  more  by  his  practice  commending  honor,  than 

*  In  solitudine  sitis  subrepit  superbia. — Hier. 
t  Nihil  opinionis  causa,  omnia  conscieuliae  faciam. — Sen.  de 
V.  B. 

Nil  sit  illi  cum  ambitione  famaque  commune,  sibi  placeat. — 
Epist.  113. 
Justum  esse  gratis  oportcl. — lb. 
Id.  de  Ira,  iii.  41. 


82 


BARROW. —  SERMON  IV. 


lie  disparaged  it  in  his  words.  For  story  represents  him  very 
careful  and  jealous  of  his  credit,  very  diligent  to  preserve  it 
and  to  repair  it.*  Tertullian  calls  such  philosophers  negotia- 
tors famce,f  merchants  for  fame  :  and  it  is  perchance  some 
part  of  their  cunning  in  that  trade,  which  makes  them  strive  to 
beat  down  the  price  of  this  commodity,  that  they  may  more 
easily  ingross  it  to  themselves.  However,  experience  proves 
that  such  words  are  but  words,  (words  spoken  out  of  affecta- 
tion and  pretence,  rather  than  in  good  earnest  and  according  to 
truth  ;)  that  endeavors  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  eating  and  drinking,  or 
should  labor  to  free  himself  from  hunger  and  thirst :  the  appetite 
of  honor  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  implanted  therein,  for  very  good  ends  and 
nses,  respecting  both  the  private  and  public  benefit  of  men  ;  as 
an  engagement  to  virtue,  and  a  restraint  from  vice  ;  as  an  ex- 
citement of  industry,  an  incentive  of  courage,  a  support  of 
constancy  in  the  prosecution  of  worthy  enterprises ;  as  a  ser- 
viceable instrument  for  the  constitution,  conservation,  and  im- 
provement of  human  society.  For  did  not  some  love  of  honor 
glow  in  men's  breasts,  were  that  noble  spark  quite  extinct, 
few  men  probably  would  study  for  honorable  qualities,  or  per- 
form 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  others 
thought  of  them,  would  not  regard  what  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  altoge- 

*  Erat  famae  sus  curiosissimus,  et  male  loquentium  dictis  vcl  li- 
teris  ve  sermone  respondebat. — Capit. 
t  Tcrt.  Apol. 

I  Ut  quidam  morbo  aliquo  et  sensus  stuporc  suavilatem  cibi  non 
sentiunt;  sic  libidinosi,  avari,  facinorosi  vera  laudis  guslum  non 
liabcnt. — Cic.  Pbilipp.  2. 


THE  REWARD  OF  HONORING  GOD. 


88 


ther  shun  society,  yet  at  least  decline  the  cares  and  burdens  re- 
quisite to  the  promoting  its  welfare,  for  the  sustaining  which 
usually  the  chief  encouragement,  the  main  recompense,  is  this 
of  honor.  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  offensive,)  is  an  excellent 
provision  in  nature  ;  in  regard  whereto  honor  may  pass  among 
the  bona  naturalia,  as  a  good  necessary  for  the  satisfaction 
of  nature,  and  for  securing  the  accomplishment  of  its  best 
designs. 

A  moderate  regard  to  honor  is  also  commendable  as  an  in- 
stance of  humanity  or  good  will  to  men,  yea,  as  an  argument 
of  humility,  or  a  sober  conceit  of  ourselves.*  For  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  judgment  of  other  men  con- 
cerning us,  doth  signify  that  we  are  not  oversatisfied  with 
our  own. 

We  might  for  its  farther  commendation  allege  the  authority 
of  the  more  cool  and  candid  sort  of  philosophers,  (such  as 
grounded  their  judgment  of  things  on  notions  agreeable  to  com- 
mon sense  and  experience  ;  who  adapted  their  rules  of  practice 
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 
honor  among  the  principal  of  things  desirable,  and  adorned  it 
with  fairest  eulogies  ;  terming  it  a  divine  thing,  the  best  of  ex- 
terior goods,  the  roost  honest  fruit  and  most  ample  reward  of 
true  virtue  ;  adjudging  that  to  neglect  the  opinions  of  men  (espe- 
cially of  persons  worthy  and  laudable)  is  a  sign  of  stupid  base- 
ness, that  to  contemn  them  is  an  effect  of  unreasonable  haugh- 
tiness; representing  the  love  of  honor  (rightly  grounded  and 
duly  moderated)  not  only  as  the  parent  and  guardian  (as  pro- 
ductive and  preservative)  of  other  virtues,  but  as  a  virtue  itself 
of  no  small  magnitude  and  lustre  in  the  constellation  of  virtues, 

*  Negligere  quid  de  se  quisque  sentiat  arrogantis  est  et  disso- 
luti.— Cic.  de  Oflic.  i. 


84 


BARROW. — SERMON  IV. 


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 
humors,  the  perverse  and  froward  passions,  with  which  men 
commonly  are  possessed  and  acted  :  that  virtue  which  inflames 
a  man  with  courage,  so  that  he  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  professes  ;  which  endows 
him  with  courtesy,  that  he  is  ready  to  yield  every  man  his  due 
respect,  to  afford  any  man  what  help  and  succor  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  favorer  of  whatever  is  good  and  com- 
mendable, a  faithful  and  hearty  friend,  a  beneficial  and  useful 
neighbor,  a  grateful  resenter  and  requiter  of  courtesies,  hospita- 
ble to  the  stranger,  bountiful  to  the  poor,  kind  and  good  to  all 
the  world  :  that  virtue,  in  fine,  which  constitutes  a  man  of  ho- 
nor, who  surely  is  the  best  man  next  to  a  man  of  conscience. 
Thus  may  honor  be  valued  from  natural  light,  and  according 
to  common  sense. + 

*  Be?6v  ti  fi  ti,u^. — Plat,  de  Leg.  iv. 

Ka\hv  tois  TroAAais  iro\e<ri  t2>  ■wapaic4\evtrna  eVri,  irpoTtfiav  euSofiav  itpb  -ru>v 

voWwv. —  Idem  de  Rep.  xii. 

Mf  yio-rov  tZv  ixrhs  ayaQaivr]  tijUtj. — A  l  ist.  Etb.  iv.3. 

Levis  est  auimi,  justam  gloriain,  qui  est  fructus  virtutis  honestis- 
simus,  repudiate. — Cic.  in  Pis. 

Ex  omnibus  pr;emiis  virtutis  amplissimum  est  premium  gloria. — 
Idem  pro  Mil. 

t  Trahimur  omnes  laudis  studio,  et  optimus  quisque  maxime 
gloria  ducilur. — Cic.  pro  Arch. 

0<  xapiWes  koi  jrpoKTi/coi,  plausible  and  aclive  men  do,  saith  Aris- 
totle, place  happiness  in  bonor. — Etb.  i.  4. 


THE  REWARD  OF  HONORING  GOD. 


8-3 


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  honor,  but  rather 
in  its  fit  order  and  just  measure  to  love  and  prize  it.  It  indeed 
instructs  us  to  ground  it  well,  not  on  bad  qualities  or  wicked 
deeds,  that  is  villainous  madness  ;  not  on  things  of  a  mean  and 
indifferent  nature,  that  is  vanity;  not  on  counterfeit  shows  and 
pretences,  that  is  hypocrisy  ;  but  on  real  worth  and  goodness, 
that  may  consist  with  modesty  and  sobriety  :  it  enjoins  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  disfavor  with  God  :*)  it,  in  fine,  com- 
mands us  to  seek  and  embrace  it  only  in  subordination  and 
with  final  reference  to  God's  honor.  Which  distinctions  and 
cautions  being  provided,  honor  is  represented  in  holy  Scripture 
as  a  thing  considerably  good,  which  may  be  regarded  without 
blame,  which  sometimes  in  duty  must  be  regarded.  It  is 
there  preferred  before  other  good  things,  in  themselves  not  de- 
spicable. For,  '  a  good  name  is  better  than  precious  oint- 
ment;' 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  whom  God  hath  given 
riches  and  honor.'  Yea,  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,'  saith  he  again, 
'  are  riches  and  honor.'  Whence  it  is  to  be  acknowleged  as 
an  especial  benefit,  and  a  fit  ground  of  thanksgiving ;  as  is 

*  Non  vis  esse  justus  sine  gloria?  at  mehercule  srcpe  justus  esse 
debes  cum  infamia.— Sen.  Epist.  cxiii. 


86 


BARROW. — SERMON  IV. 


practised  by  the  Psalmist  in  his  royal  hymn  :  '  honor,'  saith  he, 
'  and  majesty  hast  thou  laid  on  him.'  Wisdom  also  is  described 
unto  us  bearing  '  in  her  left  hand  riches  and  honor  :'  and  Wis- 
dom surely  will  not  take  into  any  hand  of  hers,  or  hold  therein, 
what  is  worth  nothing.  No  :  we  are  therefore  moved  to  pro- 
cure her,  because,  '  exalting  her,  she  shall  promote  us. — She 
shall  give  unto  our  head  an  ornament  of  grace,  a  crown  of  glory 
shall  she  deliver  to  us.'  We  are  also  enjoined  to  render  honor 
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,  especially  to  such  of  them 
'  as  govern  and  teach  well,'  to  all  good  men,  ('  have  such  in 
reputation,'  says  the  Apostle.)  And  were  not  honor  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  '  honor  all  men.'  From  hence  also,  that  we  are  especially 
bound  to  render  honor  unto  God  himself,  we  may  well  infer 
with  Aristotle,  that  '  honor  is  the  best  thing  in  our  power  to 
offer.'  To  these  considerations  may  be  added,  that  we  are 
commanded  to  walk  ehirxn^ovms,  {decently,  or  speciously, 
which  implies  a  regard  to  men's  opinion;)  to  'provide  things 
honest  in  the  sight  of  all  men,'  (ra  xaXa,  that  is,  not  only  things 
good  in  substance,  but  goodly  in  appearance;)  to  '  have  our 
conversation  honest  before  the  Gentiles:'  (Ka\i)v  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  oaa  ae^vd,  ('  whatever  things 
are  venerable,'  or  apt  to  beget  respect,)  oaa  irpoo<pi\rj,  ('  what- 
ever things  are  lovely,'  or  gracious  in  men's  eyes  and  esteem,) 
oaa  e'lxbrifia,  ('whatever  things  are  well  reported,  or  well 
reputed  of.')  He  requires  us  not  only, '  if  there  be  any  vir- 
tue,' (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  hereafter  (the 
highest  instance  of  divine  bounty,  the  complete  reward  of  good- 
ness) is  represented  and  recommended  to  us  as  a  state  of  honor 
and  glory  ;  to  be  ambitious  whereof  is  the  character  of  a  good 


THE  REWARD  OF  HONORING  GOD. 


07 


man.  «  To  every  man,'  saith  St.  Paul,  '  shall  God  render  ac- 
cording to  his  works  :  to  them,  who  by  patient  continuance  in 
well  doing  seek  for  glory,  and  honor,  and  immortality,  eternal 
life.' 

Such  is  the  reward  propounded  to  us  in  itself ;  no  vile  or 
contemptible  thing,  but  on  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  conspire  to  commend  unto 
us  as  very  considerable  and  precious.  Such  a  reward  our  text 
prescribes  us  the  certain,  the  only  way  of  attaining. 

2.  Such  a  benefit  is  here  tendered  to  us  (that  which  yet  more 
highly  commends  it,  and  exceedingly  enhances  its  worth)  by 
God  himself:  'I, '  saith  he,  '  will  honor.'  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  de- 
pending on  his  uncpjestionable  word  and  uncontrollable  power : 
who,  as  he  is  the  prime  Author  of  all  good,  so  he  is  in  especial 
manner  the  sovereign  dispenser  of  honor.  The  king,  we  say, 
is  the  fountain  of  honor.  What  any  king,  as  the  representative 
and  delegate  of  God,  is  in  his  particular  kingdom,  that  is  Al- 
mighty God  absolutely  and  independently  in  all  the  world. 
'  Both  riches  and  honor,'  said  good  king  David,  'come  of  thee, 
for  thou  rulest  over  all  :  in  thine  hand  is  power  and  might ;  in 
thine  hand  it  is  to  make  great,  and  to  give  strength  unto  all.' 
He  whose  grants  are  in  effect  only  sure  and  valid,  whose 
favors  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  honorable'  and  '  persons  of  quality 
indeed;'  having  not  only  the  names  and  titles,  the  out- 
ward ensigns  and  badges  of  dignity,  (such  as  earthly  princes 
confer,)  but  the  substantial  reality,  the  assured  enjoyment 
thereof.  (For  man  can  only  impose  law  on  tongues  and  ges- 
tures ;  God  alone  commandelh  and  inclineth  hearts,  wherein 
honor  chiefly  resideth.)  He  offers  it,  I  say,  most  freely  in- 
deed, 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 


88 


BARROW. — SERMON  IV. 


equal,  so  a  very  gentle  and  easy  condition.  It  is  but  an  ex- 
change of  honor  for  honor  ;  of  honor  from  God,  which  is  a  free 
gift,  for  honor  from  us,  which  is  a  just  duty;  of  honor  from 
him  our  sovereign  Lord,  for  honor  from  us  his  poor  vassals ;  of 
honor  from  the  most  high  Majesty  of  heaven,  for  honor  from  us 
vile  worms  creeping  on  the  earth.  Such  an  overture  one  would 
think  it  not  only  reasonable  to  accept,  but  impossible  to  refuse. 
For  can  any  man  dare  not  to  honor  invincible  power,  infallible 
wisdom,  inflexible  justice  ?  Will  any  man  forbear  to  honor 
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  consider  what  it  is  that  is  here 
required  of  us,  or  wherein  this  honoring  of  God  consists,  that 
we  may  thereby  discern  when  we  perform  this  duty,  when  we 
are  deficient  therein. 

II.  There  are  several  ways  of  honoring  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  in- 
gredients, (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. 

I.  The  soul  of  that  honor  which  is  required  of  us  toward 
God,  is  that  internal  esteem  and  reverence  which  we  should 
bear  in  our  hearts  towards  him;  importing  that  we  have  im- 
pressed on  our  minds  such  conceptions  about  him  as  are  worthy 
of  him,  suitable  to  the  perfection  of  his  nature,  to  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,  super- 
latively good,  wise,  powerful,  holy,  and  just :  that  we  ascribe 
unto  him  the  production  and  conservation  of  all  beings,  together 
with  an  intire  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  on  the  declarations  of  his  mind, 
(whether  in  way  of  assertion  or  promise,)  as  infallibly  true 
and  certain.    In  such  acts  of  mind  the  honoring  of  God  doth 


THE  REWARD  OF  HONORING  GOD. 


89 


primarily  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,  effec- 
tual acts  of  apprehension  and  judgment,  sinking  down  into  the 
heart  and  affections,  and  quickening  them  to  a  congruous,  real 
performance.  Such  an  apprehension  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  confide  in  him, 
as  able  to  perform  whatever  he  wills  us  to  expect  from  him  : 
such  an  opinion  of  his  wisdom,  as  shall  keep  us  from  question- 
ing 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  perform  what  his  law  promises  to  reward,  and  fearful 
to  commit  what  it  threatens  to  punish  :  such  a  persuasion  con- 
cerning God's  goodness,  as  shall  kindle  in  us  a  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  providence,  or  doubt- 
ful in  our  need  and  distress  of  finding  relief  from  him:  such  a 
vigorous  and  fruitful  esteem  of  God  in  all  respects,  as  shall 
produce  in  us  dispositions  of  mind  and  actions  of  life  agree- 
able 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  perform- 
ances are  but  as  pictures,  having  in  them  somewhat  of  resem- 
blance in  shape  and  color,  nothing  of  life  :  yea,  rather  as  car- 
casses, not  only  dead  and  senseless,  but  rotten  and  filthy  in 
God's  sight.  '  This  people,'  saith  God,  '  do  honor  me  with 
their  lips,  but  their  heart  is  far  from  me.'  Such  honor  is  in- 
deed no  honor  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  w  orks  and  actions  of  God,  (his  admirable  works  of  nature, 


80 


BARROW. — SERMON  IV. 


the  wise  proceedings  of  his  providence,  the  glorious  dispensa- 
tions 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  internal  reverence,  which  is 
the  true  spring  of  all  piety,  the  principle  which  forms  and  ac- 
tuates that  other  sort,  coming  next  to  be  touched  on,  being  the 
body  of  our  due  honor  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  expressions  and  per- 
formances, whereby  we  declare  our  esteem  and  reverence  of 
God,  and  produce  or  promote  the  like  in  others.  For  our  thus 
honoring  God  respects  those  two  ends  and  effects,  the  uttering 
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  principal  members. 

First,  in  general,  God  is  honored  by  a  willing  and  careful 
practice  of  all  piety  and  virtue  for  conscience  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  cannot  better  de- 
monstrate the  reverence  he  bears  toward  his  prince  than  by  (with 
a  cheerful  diligence)  observing  his  laws;  for  by  so  doing  he  de- 
clares that  he  acknowlegeth  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  hisjustice,  which  will  vindicate  them  ;  that 
he  relies  on  his  fidelity  in  making  good  what  of  protection  or  of 
recompense  he  propounds  to  the  observers  of  them.  No  less 
pregnant  a  signification  of  our  reverence  toward  God  do  we 
yield  in  our  gladly  and  strictly  obeying  his  laws  ;  thereby  evi- 
dencing our  submission  to  God's  sovereign  authority,  our  esteem 
of  his  wisdom  and  goodness,  our  awful  regard  to  his  power  and 
justice,  our  confidence  in  him,  and  dependence  on  his  word. 
As  also  the  practice  of  wholesome  laws,  visibly  producing  good 
fruits,  (peace  and  prosperity  in  the  commonwealth,)  doth  con- 
ciliate respect  unto  the  prince,  he  thereby  appearing  wise  and 


THE  REWARD  OF  HONORING  GOD. 


81 


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  com- 
fortable,   to  the  settling  and  securing  common  tranquillity, 
the  performance  of  them  must  needs  bring  great  commenda- 
tion to  the  author  and  ordainer  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 
'to  glorify  our  Father  which  is  in  heaven.'    'In  this,'  saith 
our  Saviour,  '  is  my  Father  glorified,  if  you  bear  much  fruit.' 
The  goodliness  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   certainly  produce  veneration  to  the  doc- 
trine which  teacheth  such  things,  and  to  the  authority  which 
enjoins  them.   It  is  an  aggravation  of  impiety,  often  insisted  on 
in  Scripture,  that  it  slurs,  as  it  were,  and  defames  God,  brings 
reproach  and  obloquy  on  him,  causes  his  name  to  be  profaned, 
to  be  cursed,  to  be  blasphemed  :  and  it  is  answerably  a  com- 
mendation of  piety,  that  by  the  practice  thereof  we  (not  only 
procure  many  great  advantages  to  ourselves,  many  blessings 
and  comforts  here,  all  joys  and  felicities  hereafter  ;  but  do  also 
thereby)  beget  esteem  to  God  himself,  and  sanctify  his  ever- 
blessed  name ;  cause  him  to  be  regarded  and  reverenced,  his 
name  to  be  praised  and  blessed  among  men.  It  is  by  exemplary 
piety,  by  'providing  things  honest  in  the  sight  of  all  men;' 
by  doing  things  honorable  and  laudable,  (such  are  all  things 
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  body  of  that  duty  we  speak 
of. 

Secondly,  but  there  are,  deserving  a  particular  inspection, 


92 


BARROW.— SERMON  IV. 


some  members  thereof,  which  in  a  peculiar  and  eminent  manner 
do  constitute  this  honor  :  some  acts  which  more  signally  con- 
duce to  the  illustration  of  God's  glory.    Such  are, 

1.  The  frequent  and  constant  performance  (in  a  serious  and 
reverent  manner)  of  all  religious  duties,  or  devotions  immedi- 
ately addressed  to  God,  or  conversant  about  him  :  that  which 
the  Psalmist  styles,  '  giving  the  Lord  the  honor  due  to  his 
name,  worshipping  the  Lord  in  the  beauty  of  holiness.' 

2.  Using  all  things  peculiarly  related  unto  God,  his  holy 
name,  his  holy  word,  his  holy  places,  (the  places  '  where  his 
honor  dwelleth,')  his  holy  times,  (religious  fasts  and  festivities,) 
with  especial  respect. 

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  in- 
terprets and  accepts  as  done  unto  himself. 

4.  Freely  spending  what  God  hath  given  us  (out  of  re- 
spect unto  him)  in  works  of  piety,  charity,  and  mercy ;  that 
which  the  wise  man  calls,  '  honoring  the  Lord  with  our  sub- 
stance.' 

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,  disgraces,  for  the 
profession  of  God's  truth,  or  for  obedience  to  God's  commands. 
(As  St.  Peter  is  said  '  by  his  death,'  suffered  on  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  honor  God,  by  discharging  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  promoting  his  glory. 
Thus  he  to  whom  God  hath  given  wealth,  if  he  expend  it  (not 
to  the  nourishment  of  pride  and  luxury,  not  only  to  the  grati- 
fying his  own  pleasure  or  humor,  but)  to  the  furtherance  of 


THE  REWARD  OF  HONORING  GOD. 


03 


God's  honor,  or  to  the  succor  of  his  indigent  neighbor,  (in  any 
pious  or  charitable  way,)  he  doth  thereby  in  especial  manner 
honor  God.  He  also  on  whom  God  hath  bestowed  wit  and 
parts,  if  he  employ  them  (not  so  much  in  contriving  projects  to 
advance  his  own  petty  interests,  or  in  procuring  vain  applause 
to  himself,  as)  in  advantageously  setting  forth  God's  praise, 
handsomely  recommending  goodness,  dexterously  engaging  men 
in  ways  of  virtue,  (doing  which  things  is  true  wit  and  excellent 
policy  indeed,)  he  doth  thereby  remarkably  honor  God.  He 
likewise  that  hath  honor  conferred  on  him,  if  he  subordinate  it 
to  God's  honor,  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  practice  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  honor 
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 
'  glorify  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  honor  God  :  they  are  particularly  concerned 
to  hear  and  observe  that  royal  proclamation,  '  Give  unto  the 
Lord,  O  ye  mighty,  give  unto  the  Lord  glory  and  strength  ; 
give  unto  the  Lord  the  honor  due  unto  his  name.'  When 
such  persons  (like  king  Nebuchadnezzar  returned  to  his 
right  senses)  do  seriously  acknowlege  their  power  and  emi- 
nency  derived  from  God  alone ;  when  they  profess  subjec- 
tion 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 
favor  and  encourage  virtue,  discourage  and  chastise  wicked- 
ness; when  they  take  care  that  justice  be  impartially  admi- 
nistered, 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 


94 


BARROW. — SERMON  IV. 


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  approve  themselves  worthy  honorers  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 
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  on  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  conse- 
quently best  secure  and  maintain  their  own  honor,  and  their 
own  welfare,  (for  men  will  never  be  heartily  loyal  and  sub- 
missive 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  favor  they  owe  their  power 
and  dignity;  '  in  whose  hand,'  as  the  prophet  saith,  '  is  their 
breath,  and  whose  are  all  their  ways.'  For  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  participa- 
tion 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  extreme  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 


THE  REWARD  OF  HONORING  GOD. 


05 


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  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  con- 
veyed 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  prac- 
tices of  goodness).  For  the  main  body  of  men  goeth  not  qua 
eundum,  sed  qua  itur,  not  according  to  rules  and  reasons,  but 
after  examples  vand  authorities;  especially  of  great  persons, 
who  are  like  stars,  shiniug  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  elo- 
quence, clearest  reason,  most  earnest  endeavors.  For  it  is 
in  them,  if  they  would  apply  themselves  to  it,  as  the  wisest 
prince  implies,  to  '  scatter  iniquity  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  wick- 
edness. Such  apparently  is  their  power  of  honoring  God  ;  and 
in  proportion  thereto  surely  great  is  their  obligation  to  do  it : 
of  them  peculiarly  God  expects  it,  and  all  equity  exacts  it. 
What  the  meaner  rank  of  servants  (who  are  employed  in  baser 
drudgeries,  whose  fare  is  more  coarse,  whose  wages  are  more 
scant,  who  stand  at  greater  distance  from  their  lord,  and  re- 
ceive no  such  ample  or  express  marks  of  his  favor,  what  these) 
do  is  of  some  consequence  indeed,  but  doth  not  import  so  much 
to  the  master's  reputation  ;  their  good  word  concerning  him, 
their  good  carriage  toward  him  doth  not  credit  him  so  much. 


90 


BARROW. — SERMON  IV. 


But  those  whom  he  employs  in  matters  of  highest  trust  and 
importance  to  his  affairs,  whom  he  places  in  the  nearest  degree 
to  himself,  (seats  even  in  his  own  throne,  on  his  own  tribunal,) 
whom  he  feeds  plentifully  and  daintily,  maintains  in  a  hand- 
some 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  grati- 
tude, all  the  laws  of  justice  and  equity  do  oblige  them  earnestly 
to  endeavor  it.  Aud  it  is  indeed  no  less  their  concernment  to 
do  so.  For  if  there  be  disorders  prejudicial  to  the  master's 
honor  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, 
arid  peculiarly  hear  the  euge ,  bone  serve :  they  must  be  loaded 
with  other  men's  faults,  or  crowned  for  other  men's  virtues, 
as  their  behavior  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: 
f  to  whomsoever  much  is  given,  of  him  much  shall  be  required  ;' 
answerable  to  the  improvement  o*' what  is  delivered  in  trust  shall 
the  acceptance  be. 

I  have  insisted  somewhat  more  largely  on  this  point,  because 
our  text  hath  a  particular  aspect  thereon  ;  the  words  being  ut- 
tered on  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  dis- 
honor of  God.  Whence  to  persons  of  his  rank  is  this  law  es- 
pecially directed ;  on  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  honor  they  have  already,  but  will  accumu- 
late more  honors  on  them. 

These  are  general  truths ;  the  particular  application  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  show  why  the  duty  is  required  of  us,  or 
how  reasonable  it  is.  I  must  not  (and  the  matter  is  so  palpa- 
ble that  I  need  not)  spend  many  words  on  that.    God  surely 


THE  REWARD  OF  HONORING  GOD. 


doth  not  exact  honor  from  us  because  he  needs  it,  because  he  is 
the  better  for  it,  because  he,  for  itself,  delights  therein.  For 
(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  crea- 
tures than  we  absolutely  at  his  devotion,  and  can  with  a  word 
create  millions  of  millions  more  fitter  than  we  to  honor  him) 
the  best  estimation  we  can  have  of  him  is  much  below  him ; 
the  best  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  blessing  and  praise  ; 
his  glory  is  above  the  earth  and  heaven.'  So  that  all  our 
endeavors  to  honor  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  honor  God  is  the  most  proper  work  of  rea- 
son ;  that  for  which  primarily  we  were  designed  and  framed ; 
(for  as  other  things  were  made  to  afford  the  matter  and  oc- 
casion, 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  mon- 
strous. 

2.  For  that  also  it  is  a  most  pleasant  duty.  He  is  not  a 
man,  (hath  lost  all  natural  ingenuity  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  favor, 
it  cannot  but  be  very  pleasant  to  render  somewhat  of  requi- 
tal, 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  to- 
ward him. 

3.  For  that  likewise  our  honoring  God  disposes  us  to  the 
imitation  of  him,  (for  what  we  do  reverence  we  would  resemble,) 

*  'AK^paros  yhp  avrov  r]  odaia  Kal  avtvfidjs  oZaa,  oiidevbs  Irtpou  TrpoaZtirai' 

ol  8e  aivovines  avrbv  Xanvporepoi  yivomai — Clirysost.  in  Psal.  cxliv.  tit 
vide  in  Psal.  ciii. 

BAR.                              VOL.  I.  E 


98  BARROW.— SERMON  IV. 

that  is,  to  the  doing  those  things  wherein  our  chief  perfection 
and  happiness  consists,  whence  our  best  content  and  joy  doth 
spring. 

4.  In  fine,  for  that  the  practice  of  this  duty  is  most  profit- 
able and  beneficial  to  us;  unto  it  by  an  eternal  rule  of  justice 
our  final  welfare  and  prosperity  being  annexed  :  whence  God 
hath  declared  it  to  be  the  w  ay  and  condition  of  our  attaining 
that  thing  which  we  so  like  and  prize,  honor  to  ourselves  ;  the 
w  hich  by  promise  he  hath  engaged  himself  to  confer  on  those 
who  honor  him.  And, 

IV.  This  promise  he  makes  good  several  ways:  some  of 
them  I  shall  briefly  suggest. 

1.  The  honoring  God  is  of  itself  an  honorable  thing;  the 
employment  which  ennobles  heaven  itself,  wherein  the  highest 
angels  do  rejoice  and  glory.  It  is  the  greatest  honor  of  a  ser- 
vant to  bring  credit  to  his  master,  of  a  subject  to  spread  his 
prince's  renown,  and  (on  grounds  vastly  more  obliging)  of  a 
creature  to  glorify  his  Maker  :  that  we  may  do  so  is  an  honor 
we  should  be  glad,  may  be  proud  of. 

2.  By  honoring  God  we  are  immediately  instated  in  great 
honor  ;  we  enter  into  most  noble  relations,  acquire  most  illus- 
trious titles,  enjoy  most  glorious  privileges  ;  we  become  the 
friends  and  favorites  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  honor  can  exceed,  can  equal  this? 

o.  God  hath  so  ordered  it,  that  honor  is  naturally  conse- 
quent on  the  honoring  him.  God  hath  made  goodness  a  noble 
and  a  stately  thing ;  hath  impressed  on  it  that  beauty  and  ma- 
jesty which  commands  an  universal  love  and  veneration,  which 
strikes  presently  both  a  kiudly  and  an  awful  respect  into  the 
minds  of  all  men.  '  The  righteous  is'  (not  only  in  himself, 
but  in  common  esteem)  '  more  excellent  than  his  neighbor.' 
Power  may  be  dreaded,  riches  may  be  courted,  wit  and 
knowlege  may  be  admired  ;  but  only  goodness  is  truly  es- 
teemed and  honored.*    Not  only  men  of  goodness  and  discre- 

*  Tivov  tov  ir\T\<rlov  Ti/awrfpos  €<c  toO  (pavrivai  xfjer^Tepos,  &c.— Xaz. 
Orat.  dc  Paup. 


THE  REWARD  OF  HONORING  GOD. 


99 


tion,  but  even  the  vulgar  sort  of  men,  (yea,  as  Plato  hath 
well  observed,  the  worst  men)  do  pass  this  judgment,  do  pre- 
fer true  goodness  above  all  things.* 

4  God,  by  his  extraordinary  providence,  as  there  is  reason 
and  occasion,  doth  interpose  so  as  to  procure  honor  to  them, 
to  maintain  and  further  their  reputation  who  honor  him.  God 
'  fashioneth  the  hearts  of  men  :'  the  hearts  of  the  greatest  men 
are  in  his  hand  ;  '  he  turneth  them  as  the  rivers  of  waters,  whi- 
thersoever he  will :'  he  consequently  raiseth  or  depresseth  us,  as 
he  pleases,  in  the  judgments  and  affections  of  men.  '  When  a 
man's  ways  please  the  Lord,  he  maketh  even  his  enemies  to 
be  at  peace  with  him,'  saith  the  wise  man ;  that  is,  he 
disposeth  the  most  averse  minds  to  love  and  honor  him.  No 
envy  can  supplant,  no  slander  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  righteous- 
ness as  the  light,  and  his  judgment  as  the  noon  day.'  God 
also  by  secret  methods,  and  undiscernible  trains,  ordereth 
all  events,  managing  our  thoughts  and  designs,  our  enterprises 
and  actions  so,  that  the  result  of  them  shall  be  matter  of  bene- 
fit, comfort,  and  reputation,  or  of  disaster,  regret,  and  disgrace, 
as  he  thinks  good.  Victory  and  success  he  absolutely  dispos- 
eth of,  and  consequently  of  the  honor  that  follows  them  ;  and 
they  do  usually  attend  the  honors  of  God  :  for,  as  it  is  in  the 
Psalm,  '  a  good  success  have  they  who  keep  his  command- 
ments.' Many  are  the  instances  of  persons,  (such  as  Abra- 
ham, Joseph,  Moses,  David,  Job,  and  Daniel,)  who,  for  their 
signal  honoring  of  God,  from  a  base  and  obscure,  or  from 
an  afflicted  and  forlorn  condition,  have,  in  ways  strange  anil 
wonderful,  been  advanced  to  eminent  dignity,  have  been  ren- 
dered most  illustrious,  by  the  providence  of  him,  who  '  raiseth  the 
poor  out  of  the  dust,  and  lifteth  the  beggar  out  of  the  dunghill, 

Is  gloria  maxime  excellit,  qui  virtute  plurimum  pra;stat.— Cic. 

Kot'  aXi)9*i.av  S  a-/a8bs  n&vos  ti^tjti5j. — Arist.  Eth.  iv.  3. 

Adeo  gratiosa  virtus  est,  ut  insitura  sit  etiam  malis  probare  me- 
liora. — Sen.  de  Benef.  iv.  17. 

*  ©c7<Jf  ti  (cai  ei/oTox^P  eori  (col  toTs  kokoij-  a-are  Tra/j.iro\Koi  tSiv  acpoSpa  Ka- 
KiSc  e5  tois  \6yots  ko.\  rah  56£tus  Siaipovvrai  tuvs  antivovs  twp  avQpwirwv ,  ko\ 

robs  x«ff">"s- — Plat,  de  Repub.xii. 


wo 


BARROW. — SERMON  IV. 


to  set  them  among  princes,  and  to  make  them  inherit  the  throne 
of  glory.'  He  doth  it  in  an  evident  manner  and  eminent  degree, 
to  some  ;  he  doth  it  in  a  convenient  way,  and  competent  mea- 
sure, to  all  that  honor  him. 

5.  Whereas  men  are  naturally  inclined  to  bear  much  regard 
to  the  judgment  of  posterity  concerning  them,  are  desirous  to 
leave  a  good  name  behind  them,  and  to  have  their  memory 
retained  in  esteem :  God  so  disposes  things,  that  '  the  memory 
of  the  just  shall  be  blessed  ;'  that  '  his  righteousness  shall  be 
had  in  everlasting  remembrance;'  that '  his  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  pre- 
serve his  name  and  memory,  as  apious  conversation,  whereby  God 
hath  been  honored  and  men  benefited.*  The  fame  of  such  a  per- 
son 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  honor  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  Caisars,)  who  have  been  renowned  for 
doing  things  which  seemed  great,  rather  than  for  performing 
what  was  truly  good  ?  To  the  honor  of  those  excellent  poor 
men,  conspicuous  monuments  have  been  erected  every  where; 
anniversary  memorials  of  their  names  and  virtues  are  cele- 
brated ;  they  are  never  mentioned  or  thought  of  without  re- 
spect ;  their  commendations  are  interwoven  with  the  praises  of 
their  great  Lord  and  Maker,  whom  they  honored.f 

6.  Lastly,  to  those  who  honor  God  here,  God  hath  reserved 
an  honor  infinitely  great  and  excellent,  in  comparison  whereto 
all  honors  here  are  but  dreams,  the  loudest  acclamations  of 
mortal  men  are  but  empty  sounds,  the  brightest  glories  of  this 

*  'hva-yKT],  uis  jUf'Aeiv  tjhiv  koi  rov  ineira  xpovov  «rei5$(  koi  rvyxd- 

vovctl  Kara.  TU'a  (pvffiv,  ol  fiff  avopairoZut^fffraroi,  oiiohv  typovr'ifyvres  avrov' 
ol  8'  67rt€iKeVTaTy(,  ttuv  Troiovvres  virus  av  cij  run  (irura  XP^V0V      anovwoiv. — 

Plat.  Epist.  ii. 

t  lav  8e  SovAuv  rov  Xpiarov  nai  ra  ai,nara  XafxTrpa,  Ka\  rjntpai  Kara<par(iS, 
eopT7>  rfj  oiKovfiivri  iroioiaat,  &,c. — Clnys.  in  2  Cor.  Or.  27. 


THE  REWARD  OF  HONORING  GOD. 


101 


world  are  but  duskish  and  fleeting  shadows  ;  an  honor  most 
solid,  most  durable  ;  '  an  eternal  weight  of  glory.'  They 
shall,  in  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  attestation 
of  heaven  ;  they  shall  then  be  seated  on  unmoveable  thrones, 
their  heads  encircled  with  unfading  crowns,  their  faces  shining 
with  rays  of  unconceivable  glory  and  majesty.  The  less  of 
honor  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,  through  the  whole  course  of  his 
life,  '  sought  not  his  own  honor,  but  the  honor  of  him  that  sent 
him  ;'  who, '  for  the  suffering  of  death,  was  crowned  with  glory 
and  honor  ;'  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  endeavors,  and  who 
sacrificed  their  lives  to  the  promoting  of  God's  honor,  they  shall 
possess  everlasting  glory.  Which,  together  with  them,  God 
Almighty  of  his  infinite  mercy  grant  unto  us  all,  through  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord  ;  to  whom,  with  God  the  Father,  and  God  the 
Holy  Ghost,  be  for  ever  all  honor  and  praise.  Amen. 


102 


SUMMARY  OF 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  V. 

PROVERBS,  CHAP.  X. — VERSE  9. 

The  heads  of  men  are  generally  very  busy  in  contrivance, 
and  their  mouths  are  full  of  talk  about  consulting  their  safety  or 
securing  their  interests.  We  might  presume  therefore  that  any 
infallible  maxim  of  policy,  which  proposed  the  most  expedite 
and  certain  method  of  security  in  all  our  transactions,  would 
be  entertained  with  acceptance.  Such  an  one  does  the  great- 
est, politician  and  wisest  of  men  here  suggest  to  us.  He  that 
walketh  uprightly,  walketh  surely.  In  the  explication  of  this 
aphorism,  the  practice  itself  is  first  briefly  described:  next 
some  considerations  are  proposed  to  show  that  security  does 
attend  it. 

To  walk,  as  well  in  holy  Scripture  as  in  other  writings,  sig- 
nifies our  usual  course  of  dealing,  or  the  constant  tenor  of 
our  practice.  Uprightly,  accoiding  to  the  original,  might  be 
yenderedinperfection.orwith  integrity ;  and  by  the  Greek  trans  • 
lators  is  in  several  places  supposed  chiefly  to  denote  sincerity 
and  purity  of  intention.  In  effect,  the  phrase,  he  that  walketh 
uprightly,  imports  one  who  is  constantly  disposed  in  his  designs 
and  dealings  to  regard  the  rules  of  his  duty  and  the  dictates  of 
his  conscience,  in  conformity  to  sound  reason  and  God's  law  : 
this  point  enlarged  on. 

That  such  a  person  proceeds  ever  with  security,  may  appear 
from  the  following  considerations. 

I.  An  upright  walker  is  secure  of  easily  finding  his  way ; 
since  it  requires  no  great  reach  of  wit  or  depth  of  judgment,  no 
laborious  diligence  of  incpjiry,  to  discern  in  any  case  what  is 


SERMON  V. 


103 


just.  The  ways  of  iniquity  and  vanity  shown  to  be  difficult 
and  perplexing  ;  but  those  of  truth  so  simple,  uniform,  and 
clear,  that  we  can  hardly  miss  or  swerve  from  them  :  these 
points  enlarged  on  and  illustrated  from  Scripture. 

II.  The  upright  walker  treads  on  firm  ground.  He  builds 
not  his  practice  on  the  perilous  bogs,  treacherous  quagmires, 
and  devouring  quicksands  of  bold  and  impious  paradoxes,  (like 
those  invented  by  Epicurus,  Machiavel,  and  others  whose 
names  are  too  well  known,  as  the  effects  of  their  pestilent 
notions  are  too  much  felt,)  but  on  solid,  safe,  and  well  tried 
principles :  these  enumerated  and  explained. 

III.  The  upright  person  walks  steadily,  maintaining  his 
principal  resolutions,  and  holding  his  main  course,  through  all 
occasions,  without  wavering  or  fickleness  ;  his  integrity  being 
an  excellent  ballast  against  the  waves  of  temptation.  Lust, 
passion,  humor,  interest,  are  things  very  mutable,  as  depending 
on  temper  of  body,  casualties  of  time,  winds  and  tides  of  this 
vertiginous  world  :  whence  he  that  is  guided  by  them  must 
needs  be  many-minded,  and  unstable  in  all  his  ways:  but  a 
good  conscience  is  steady  and  remains  so  through  all  circum- 
stances of  time,  and  in  all  vicissitudes  of  fortune,  &c. 

IV.  The  way  of  uprightness  is  the  surest  for  dispatch,  and 
the  shortest  cut  towards  the  attainment  or  execution  of  any 
good  purpose  ;  securing  a  man  from  irksome  expectations  and 
tedious  delays.  It  is  in  Scripture  called  the  strait  and  plain 
way.  As  in  geometry,  of  all  lines  or  surfaces  contained  within 
the  same  bounds,  the  straight  line  and  the  plain  surface  are 
the  shortest ;  so  is  it  also  in  morality :  this  topic  en- 
larged on. 

V.  The  way  of  uprightness  is  in  itself  very  safe,  free  from 
danger,  tending  to  no  mischief;  according  to  the  saying  of  the 
wise  man,  there  shall  no  evil  happen  to  the  just.  He  that  de- 
signed! only  what  is  just  and  reasonable  will  probably  not  re- 
ceive much  trouble  from  the  world :  he  may  be  sure  that  few 


104 


SI.  M  MARY  OF 


wise  men,  and  no  good  men,  will  annoy  him,  but  will  rather 
afford  countenance  to  his  undertakings.  He  will  assuredly 
have  the  favorable  protection  of  Almighty  God;  and  what- 
ever the  success  of  his  undertakings  may  be,  the  sequel  will 
be  tolerable ;  for  his  conscience  will  be  safe,  his  credit  intire, 
and  his  hopes  good,  &c. 

VI.  The  way  of  uprightness  is  fair  and  pleasant :  a  hopeful 
confidence  and  a  cheerful  satisfaction  ever  wait  on  him  that 
walketh  in  it:  this  topic  fully  treated  ;  showing  how  true  it  is 
on  all  accounts,  that,  according  to  the  psalmist's  assertion,  light 
is  sown  for  the  righteous,  and  joyful  gladness  for  the  upright 
in  heart. 

VII.  He  that  walketh  uprightly  is  secure  as  to  his  honor 
and  credit :  by  pure  integrity  a  man  first  maintains  a  due  re- 
spect and  esteem  for  himself,  and  then  preserves  an  intire  repu- 
tation with  others :  he  reflects  on  his  own  heart  with  compla- 
cency, and  looks  on  the  world  with  confidence.  The  issue  of 
all  his  dealings  will  assuredly  be  creditable  to  him  ;  for  God 
himself  will  be  concerned  to  vindicate  his  reputation.  If  he 
finds  good  success,  it  will  not  occasion  envy  ;  if  he  seems  dis- 
appointed, he  will  not  be  disparaged. 

VIII.  The  particular  methods  of  acting  to  which  upright- 
ness disposes  us,  yield  great  security  from  troubles  and  crosses. 
The  conduct  which  the  upright  man  observes  in  his  transactions 
with  the  world  fully  stated :  this  shown  to  be  the  most  secure 
possible,  affording  him  many  great  advantages,  exempting 
him  from  manifold  fears  and  cares  and  crosses. 

IX.  An  upright  walker  hath  perfect  security,  as  to  the 
final  result  of  affairs,  that  he  shall  not  be  quite  baffled  in  his 
expectations  and  desires.  If  prosperity  consists  in  a  satisfac- 
tion of  mind  concerning  events,  he  cannot  fail  of  it.  Whatso- 
ever he  doeth,  says  the  psalmist  of  him,  it  shall  prosper:  this 
explained.  He  cannot  be  much  defeated  in  his  purposes,  for 
his  principal  designs  being  to  please  God  and  procure  his  favor, 


> 


SERMON  V. 


1 05 


to  benefit  his  neighbor  and  do  good  to  his  own  soul,  they  can- 
not fail  of  accomplishment.  To  a  person  so  disposed,  that 
success  which  seems  most  adverse,  may  often  be  reputed  the 
most  happy,  as  producing  ends  incomparably  more  excellent 
than  any  worldly  gain.  If  this  does  not  satisfy  grosser  appre- 
hensions, it  may  be  added  that  even  in  these  meaner  concerns 
Almighty  God  is  pleased  commonly  to  reward  and  encourage 
upright  persons  by  the  best  success  ;  having  as  it  were  an  in- 
clination to  gratify  those  who  desire  to  please  him.  As  the 
psalmist  expresses  it,  he  hath  pleasure  in  the  prosperity  of  his 
servants. 

X.  In  conclusion  ;  it  is  an  infinite  advantage  of  upright 
dealing,  that  at  the  last  issue,  when  all  things  shall  be  most 
accurately  tried  and  impartially  decided,  a  man  is  sure  to  be 
fully  justified  in  it,  and  plentifully  rewarded  for  it.  As  then 
all  the  deceits  which  now  pass  under  specious  masks,  shall  be 
laid  bare,  all  contrivers  of  mischief  or  practisers  of  guile  shall 
be  exposed  to  shame  and  lie  down  in  sorrow ;  so  then  the 
righteous  man  shall  stand  in  great  boldness;  his  case  shall  be 
cleared  from  all  slanderous  aspersions  ;  what  he  hath  done 
shall  be  approved ;  what  he  hath  suffered  shall  be  repaired  :  for 
in  the  day  when  God  shall  judge  the  secrets  of  men  by  Jesus 
Christ,  every  man's  work  shall  be  made  manifest. 


106 


BARROW. — SERMON  V. 


SERMON  V. 

UPRIGHT  WALKING  SURE  WALKING. 


PROVERBS,  CHAP.  X. — VERSE  9. 
He  that  walketh  uprightly,  walketh  surely. 

The  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  the  greatest  politician  and  wisest 
man  for  business  (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  man  of  understanding  walketh  up- 
rightly;7 and  here  he  recommendeth  it  as  a  method  of  security, 
'  he  that  walketh  uprightly,  walketh  surely.' 

Treating  on  which  aphorism,  I  shall,  by  God's  help,  endea- 
vor, 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.  'Towalk'(as  well  in  the  style  of  holy 
Scripture  as  in  other  writings,  and  even  in  common  speech) 
doth  signify  our  usual  course  of  dealing,  or  the  constant  tenor 
of  our  practice. 

'  Uprightly,'  according  to  the  original,  (OVT3)  might  be  ren- 


UPRIGHT  WALKING  SURE  WALKING.  107 

dered,  'in  perfection,'  or  'with  integrity:'  and  by  the  Greek 
translators  in  several  places  is  supposed  chiefly  to  denote  sin- 
cerity and  purity  of  intention. 

In  effect  the  phrase,  '  he  that  walketh  uprightly,'  doth  im- 
port 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  conscience  ;  who  in  every  case  emergent  is  ready 
to  perform  that,  which  on  good  deliberation  doth  appear  most 
just  and  fit, in  conformity  to  God's  law  and  sound  reason,  with- 
out being  swayed  by  any  appetite,  any  passion,  any  sinister  re- 
spect to  his  own  private  interest  of  profit,  credit,  or  pleasure, 
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 
welfare  ;)  who  doth  aim  at  good  ends,  that  is,  at  God's  honor, 
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  providence 
and  industry,  veracity  and  fidelity,  dependence  on  God's  help, 
and  prayer  for  his  blessing :  in  short,  one  who  never  advi- 
sedly doth  undertake  any  bad  thing,  nor  any  good  thing  to 
ill  purposes ;  nor  doth  use  any  foul  means  to  compass  his 
intents. 

For  proof.  That  such  an  one  doth  ever  proceed  with  much 
security,  from  the  following  considerations  may  appear. 

1.  An  upright  walker  is  secure  of  easily  finding  his  way.  For 
it  commonly  required)  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,  obvi- 
ous road  which  common  reason  prompteth,  or  which  ordinary 
instruction  pointeth  out  to  us  :  so  that  usually  that  direction  of 
Solomon  is  sufficient,  '  let  thine  eyes  look  right  on,  and  let  thine 
eye-lids  look  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 


108 


BARROW.  — SERMON  V. 


way,)  ill  designs  and  bad  means  of  executing  designs,  are  very 
unintelligible,  very  obscure,  abstruse,  and  intricate ;  being  in- 
finitely 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  vir- 
tue, are  so  very  simple  and  uniform,  so  fixed  and  permanent, 
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  subtile  persons,  (men 
of  great  parts,  of  refined  wits,  of  long  experience,)  but  rather 
for  the  vulgar  community  of  men,  the  great  body  of  God's  sub- 
jects, consisting  in  persons  of  meanest  capacity  and  smallest 
improvement  :  being  designed  to  '  make  wise  the  simple,'  to 
'  give  the  young  man  knowlege  and  discretion  :'  to  direct  all 
sorts  of  people  in  their  duty,  toward  their  happiness ;  accord- 
ing 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  on  our  hearts  and  consciences,  so  that  by  any  considerate 
reflexion  inwards  we  may  easily  read  them  :  or  they  are  extant 
in  God's  word,  there  written  as  with  a  sunbeam,  so  perspicu- 
ously expressed,  so  frequently  inculcated,  that  without  gross 
negligence  or  strange  dulness  we  cannot  but  descsy  them.  For 
who  with  half  an  eye  may  not  see  that  the  practice  of  pious 
love  and  reverence  toward  God,  of  intire  justice  and  charity 
toward  our  neighbor,  of  sober  temperance  and  purityr  toward 
ourselves,  is  approved  by  reason,  is  prescribed  by  God  to 
us? 

Hence  in  the  holy  Scriptures,  as  bad  ways  are  called  dark, 
crooked,  rough,  slippery  ways ;  so  the  good  ways  are  said  to 
be  clear,  plain,  direct,  eveu  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.'f  (or,  '  that  considereth  ' 
them.)  '  My  foot  standeth  in  an  even  place.'  '  The  law  of 
his  God  is  in  his  heart :  and  none  of  his  steps  shall  slide.' 

Hence  it  is  affirmed  that  an  upright  man  doth  hardly  need 
any  conduct  beside  his  own  honesty.    For,  '  the  integrity,' 


UPRIGHT  WALKING  SURE  WALKING. 


109 


saith  Solomon,  '  of  the  upright  shall  guide  them  ;'  and.  1  the 
righteousness  of  the  perfect  shall  direct  his  way.' 

But  in  case  such  an  one  should  ever  be  at  a  stand  or  at  a 
loss,  in  doubt  of  his  course,  he  hath  always  at  hand  a  most  sure 
guide  to  conduct  or  direct  him.  It  is  but  asking  the  way  of 
him,  or  saying  with  the  psalmist,  '  show  me  thy  ways,  O  Lord, 
teach  me  thy  paths ;  teach  me  to  do  thy  will,'  and,  '  lead  me 
in  the  way  everlasting  ;  O  let  me  not  wander  from  thy  com- 
mandments:'  and  then  '  his  ears,'  as  the  prophet  saith,  '  shall 
hear  a  word  behind  him,  saying,  This  is  the  way,  walk  ye  in 
it;'  then  the  words  of  the  psalmist  shall  be  verified,  '  What 
man  is  he  that  feareth  the  Lord  V  '  Him  shall  he  teach  in  the 
way  that  he  shall  choose.'  'The  meek  will  he  guide  in  judg- 
ment, 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  on  firm  ground.  He 
doth  build  his  practice,  not  on  the  perilous  bogs,  the  treache- 
rous quagmires,  the  devouring  quicksands  of  uncouth,  bold, 
impious  paradoxes,  (such  as  have  been  vented  by  Epicurus,  by 
Machiavel,  by  others  more  lately,  whose  infamous  names  are 
too  well  known,  as  the  effects  of  their  pestilent  notions  are  too 
much  felt;)  but  on  solid,  safe,  approved,  and  well-tried  prin- 
ciples ;  namely,  these,  and  the  like  coherent  with  them  :  that 
there  is  an  eternal  God,  incomprehensibly  powerful,  wise,  just, 
and  good  ;  who  is  always  present  with  us,  and  ever  intent 
on  us  ;  viewing  not  only  all  our  external  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  him- 
self in  all  human  affairs,  disposing  and  managing  all  events 
according  to  his  righteous  pleasure  ;  exacting  punctual  obedi- 
ence to  his  laws,  and  dispensing  recompenses  answerable 
thereto;  with  impartial  justice  rewarding  each  man  according 
to  the  purposes  of  his  heart  and  the  practices  of  his  life  :  that 
all  our  good  and  happiness  doth  absolutely  depend  on  God's 
favor;  so  that  to  please  him  can  only  be  true  wisdom,  and  to 
offend  him  the  greatest  folly :  that  virtue  is  incomparably  the 


110 


BARROW. — SERMON"  V. 


best  endowment  whereof  we  are  capable,  and  sin  the  worst 
mischief  to  which  we  are  liable  :  that  no  worldly  good  or  evil 
is  considerable  in  comparison  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  serviceable  to  those  purposes  is  either  a 
frivolous  trifle,  or  a  dangerous  snare,  or  a  notable  damage,  or 
a  woful  bane  to  us:  that  content  of  mind,  springing  from  inno- 
cence of  life,  from  the  faithful  discharge  of  our  duty,  from  sa- 
tisfaction 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  possession 
or  fruition  can  afford  ;  and,  that  a  bad  mind  is  the  sorest  ad- 
versity which  can  befal  us.  Such  are  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  expe- 
rience ;  the  belief  of  them  having  apparently  most  wholesome 
influence  on  all  the  concerns  of  life,  both  public  and  private; 
indeed,  being  absolutely  needful  for  upholding  government, 
and  preserving  human  society  ;  no  obligation,  no  faith  or  con- 
fidence between  men,  no  friendship  or  peace  being  able  to  sub- 
sist 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  mankind 
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. 

III.  The  upright  person  doth  walk  steadily,  maintaining  his 
principal  resolutions,  and  holding  his  main  course,  through  all 
occasions,  without  flinching  or  wavering,  or  desultory  incon- 
sistence and  fickleness;  his  integrity  being  an  excellent  bal- 
last, holding  him  tight  and  well  poised  in  his  deportment; 
so  that  waves  of  temptation  dashing  on  him  do  not  make 


UPRIGHT  WALKING  SURE  WALKING. 


Ill 


him  roll  in  uncertainty,  or  topple  over  into  unworthy  prac- 
tices. 

Lust,  passion,  humor,  interest,  are  things  very  mutable,  as 
depending  on  temper  of  body,  casualties  of  time,  the  winds  and 
tides  of  this  vertiginous  world  :  whence  he  that  is  guided  or 
moved  by  them  must  needs  be  '  many  minded  '  and  '  unstable 
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  steereth  by  im- 
moveable 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  confidences 
are  fixed  on  the  'rock  of  ages.'  Whence  an  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  favored  or 
crossed,  commended  or  reproached,  (' by  honor  and  dishonor, 
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 
observeth  of  him  ;  '  he  shall  not  be  afraid  of  evil  tidings,  for  his 
heart  standeth  fast  and  believeth  in  the  Lord.'  His  heart  '  is 
stablished,  and  will  not  shrink.'  And  this  the  wise  man  pro- 
miseth  to  him  :  '  commit  thy  works  unto  the  Lord,  and  thy 
thoughts  shall  be  established.' 

Hence  a  man  is  secured  from  diffidence  in  himself,  and  dis- 
traction in  his  mind,  from  frequently  being  off  the  hooks,  from 
leading  an  unequal  life,  clashing  with  itself,  from  deluding 
and  disappointing  those  with  whom  he  converseth  or  dealeth, 
and  consequently  from  the  inconveniences  issuingthence. 

IV.  The  way  of  uprightness  is  the  surest  for  dispatch,  and 
the  shortest  cut  toward  the  execution  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  heart 
sick.'  . 


112 


BARROW. — SERMON  V. 


Itin  Scripture  iscalled  '  the  straight  and  the  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 
justice,  on  the  plain  ground  of  virtue,  a  man  soonest  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  dispatching  it.  But  a  man  acting  justly 
and  fairly  doth  continually  proceed  on  in  the  direct  open  road, 
without  retreat,  excursion,  or  deflexion  ;  '  not  turning  aside 
(as  the  phrase  js  in  holy  writ)  to  the  right  hand  or  to  the 
left.' 

To  clamber  over  fences  of  duty,  to  break  through  hedges  of 
right,  to  trespass  on  hallowed  inclosures,  may  seem  the  most 
short  and  compendious  ways  of  getting  thither  where  one  would 
be  ;  but  doth  not  a  man  venture  breaking  his  neck,  or  scratch- 
ing his  face,  incurring  mischief  and  trouble  thereby?  Is  he 
not  liable  to  the  fate  to  which  the  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  expedite 
ways ;  but  in  truth  they  are  the  farthest  ways  about,  or  rather 
no  ways  at  all :  for  that  which  is  got  by  those  means  is  not 
our  own ;  nor  is  the  possession  of  it  truly  wealth,  but  usurpa- 
tion, or  detention  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  insupera- 
ble obstacles  interposed  by  God ;  who  hath  expressly  con- 
demned and  cursed  those  ways,  declaring  that  '  wealth  gotten 
by  vanity  (or  cozenage)  shall  be  diminished  ;'  that  '  he  that 
oppresseth  to  increase  his  riches  shall  surely  come  to  want  ;' 
that  '  he  who  (thus)  hasteth  to  be  rich,  hath  an  evil  eye,  and 
considereth  not  that  poverty  shall  come  on  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  mitist 


UPRIGHT  WALKING  SURE  WALKING. 


113 


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,  the  security 
of  those  oracles :  '  the  hand  of  the  diligent  shall  make  rich  ;' 
'  he  that  gathereth  by  labor  shall  increase  :'  '  by  humility  and 
the  fear  of  the  Lord  are  riches,  and  honor,  and  life.' 

V.  The  way  of  uprightness  is  in  itself  very  safe,  free  of  dan- 
ger, tending  to  no  mischief  ;  according  to  those  sayings  of  the 
wise  man  :  '  there  shall  no  evil  happen  to  the  just:'  '  in  the 
way  of  righteousness  is  life,  and  in  the  path  thereof  there  is  no 
death.' 

He  who  designeth  only  that  which  is  just  and  reasonable, 
who  innocently  and  fairly  prosecuteth  his  intent,  can  run  no 
great  hazard,  cannot  fall  into  any  extreme  disaster,  cannot  irre- 
coverably sink  into  miserable  disappointment. 

He  probably  will  not  receive  much  harm  from  men,  or  trou- 
ble from  the  world  :  for  as  he  meaneth  innocently,  as  he  dealeth 
inoffensively,  (not  violently  assailing,  nor  fraudulently  circum- 
venting, not  anywise  injuriously  or  maliciously  abusing  any 
man,)  as  he  doth  yield  no  just  provocation  or  urgent  temptation 
to  oppose  him  ;  so  he  is  not  very  likely  to  meet  with  obstruc- 
tions or  crosses  thwarting  his  designs.  He  can  hardly  raise  up 
adversaries;  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  favorable  protection  of  Al- 
mighty 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  cala- 
mity. His  prayer,  dictated  by  good  conscience,  '  let  integrity 
and  uprightness  preserve  me,'  will  certainly  be  heard  ;  God 
having  passed  his  word  for  it  in  numberless  places  of  Scrip- 
ture ;  particularly  in  those  remarkable  wor.ls  of  Isaiah  :  '  he 
that  walketh  righteously,  and  speaketh  uprightly;  he  that 
despiseth  the  gain  of  oppressions,  that  shaketh  his  hands  from 


1 1  i 


BARROW. — SERMON  V. 


holding  of  bribes,  that  stoppeth  his  ears  from  hearing  of  blood, 
and  shutteth  his  eyes  from  seeing  evil ;  he  shall  dwell  on  high : 
his  place  of  defence  shall  be  the  munitions  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  pro- 
tect him  from  evil.  He  may  hopefully  say  to  himself,  as 
Abraham  did  to  his  servant,  'The  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  psalm- 
ist, '  He  shall  give  his  angels  charge  over  thee,  to  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  suc- 
cess of  his  undertaking  be,  it  can  be  no  ruin,  no  slur,  no  heart- 
breaking to  him.  His  conscience  is  safe,  his  credit  is  intire, 
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  disconsolateness.  For, 

VI.  The  way  of  uprightness  is  fair  and  pleasant.  He  that 
walketh  in  it  hath  good  weather  and  a  clear  sky  about  him  ; 
a  hopeful  confidence  and  a  cheerful  satisfaction  do  ever  wait  on 
him.  '  It  is  joy,'  as  the  wise  man  saith,  '  to  the  just  to  do 
judgment.' 

Being  conscious  to  himself  of  an  honest  meaning,  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  himself, 
agreeable  to  reason,  and  conformable  to  his  duty. 

He  therefore  briskly  raoveth  forward  with  alacrity  and  cou- 
rage ;  there  being  within  him  nothing  to  control  or  counter- 
mand him,  to  pull  him  back,  to  make  him  halt,  to  distract  or 
disturb  him. 


UPRIGHT  WALKING  SURE  WALKING. 


115 


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  pre- 
sume on  the  propitious  aspect  and  favorable  succor  of  heaven, 
which  always  smileth  and  casteth  benign  influences  on  honest 
undertakings. 

He  that  hath  chosen  a  good  way,  may  with  assurance  com- 
mend his  way  to  God's  providence;  he  may  depend  on  God 
for  his  concurrent  benediction  ;  he  with  an  humble  boldness 
may  address  prayers  to  God  for  his  protection  and  aid.  He  so 
doing  hath  interest  in  divers  clear  declarations  and  express  pro- 
mises of  good  success  ;  such  as  those  ;  '  Commit  thy  way  unto 
the  Lord,  trust  also  in  him,  and  he  shall  bring  it  to  pass.' 
'  The  Lord  is  nigh  unto  all  that  call  on  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  integrity  ;'  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,  borrow- 
ing the  words  of  Hezekiah,  '  I  beseech  thee,  O  Lord,  remem- 
ber 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,  '  is  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  satisfaction  that  it  is  indeed 
vgood  success,  or  a  blessing  indulged  to  him  by  special  favor  of 
God  ;  enabling  him  to  say  with  the  psalmist,  '  The  Lord  re- 
warded 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  comfortable  reserve, 


116 


BARROW. — SE»aON  V. 


that  whatever  doth  befal  him,  however  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  mind. 
He  shall  triumph,  if  not  in  the  felicity  of  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  integrity 
from  me.  My  righteousness  I  holdfast,  and  will  not  let  it  go : 
my  heart  shall  not  reproach  me  so  long  as  I  live.' 

So  true  it  is  on  all  accounts,  that,  according  to  that  assertion 
in  the  psalm,  '  Light  is  sown  for  the  righteous,  and  joyful 
gladness  for  the  upright  in  heart.' 

VII.  He  that  walketh  uprightly  is  secure  as  to  his  honor 
and  credit.  He  is  sure  not  to  come  off  disgracefully,  either  at 
home  in  his  own  apprehensions,  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  blemish  or  blame  can 
stick  on  his  proceeding. 

By  pure  integrity  a  man  first  maintaineth  a  due  respect  and 
esteem  for  himself,  then  preserveth  an  intire  reputation  with 
others  :  he  reflecteth  on  his  own  heart  with  complacence,  and 
looketh  on  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  pe- 
netrated and  known ;  the  greater  approbation  he  is  sure  to 
receive. 

The  issue  of  things  assuredly  will  be  creditable  to  him  ;  and 
when  the  day-light  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  hi3  proceedings  being  justified  by  the  very  light 
of  things. 

God  himself  will  be  concerned  to  vindicate  his  reputation, 
not  suffering  him  to  be  considerably  defamed ;  according  to 


UPRIGHT  WALKING  SURE  WALKING. 


117 


that  promise,  '  He  shall  bring  forth  thy  righteousness  as  the 
light,  and  thy  judgment  as  the  noon-day.'  That  in  Job  will 
be  made  good  to  him,  «  Then  shalt  thou  lift  up  thy  face  with- 
out spot ;'  and  he  may  confidently  aver  with  the  psalmist, 
'  Then  shall  I  not  be  ashamed,  when  I  have  respect  to  all  thy 
commandments.' 

If  he  findeth  good  success,  it  will  not  be  invidious,  appear- 
ing well  deserved,  and  fairly  procured ;  it  will  be  truly  hono- 
rable, as  a  fruit  and  recompense  of  virtue,  as  a  mark  and 
pledge  of  the  divine  favor  toward  him. 

If  he  seemeth  disappointed,  yet  he  will  not  be  disparaged: 
wise  and  candid  men  will  excuse  him  ;  good  men  will  patro- 
nise his  cause  ;  no  man  of  sense  and  ingenuity  will  insult  on 
his  misfortune.  '  He  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  splendor,  yet  with  a 
pleasant  lustre ;  uprightness  disposing  him  to  bear  adverse 
events  with  a  graceful  decency. 

VIII.  The  particular  methods  of  acting  which  uprightness 
disposeth  to  observe,  do  yield  great  security  from  troubles  and 
crosses  in  their  transactions. 

What  is  the  conduct  of  the  upright  man?  He  is  clear,  frank, 
candid,  harmless,  consistent  in  all  his  behavior,  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  cor- 
respondence 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,'  alluring  them 
into  mischief  or  inconvenience. 


118 


BARROW. — SERMON  V. 


As  he  doth  not  affect  any  poor  base  ends,  so  he  will  not 
defile  his  fair  intentions  by  sordid  means  of  compassing  them; 
such  as  are  illusive  simulations  and  subdolous  artifices, 
treacherous  collusions,  sly  insinuations  and  sycophantic  de- 
tractions, versatile  whifflings  and  dodgings,  flattering  collo- 
guings  and  glozings,  servile  crouchings  and  fawnings,  and  the 
like. 

He  hath  little  of  the  serpent,  (none  of  its  lurking  insidious- 
ness,  of  its  surprising  violence,  of  its  rancorous  venom,  of  its 
keen  mordacity,)  but  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  charity  ;  being  '  the  wis- 
dom which  is  from  above,  first  pure,  then  peaceable,  gentle, 
easy  to  be  entreated,  full  of  good  fruits,  without  partiality, 
and  without  hypocrisy.' 

He  sometime  may  prudently  reserve  his  mind,  not  venting  it 
by  foolish  loquacity :  but  his  words  do  never  clash  with  his 
meaning,  so  as  to  deceive  or  dissappoint  any  man. 

He  may  warily  prevent  harm  and  decline  perils  :  but  it 
is  without  hurtful  countermining,  or  deriving  mischief  on  his 
neighbor. 

He  may  discreetly  pick  out  seasons,  and  embrace  opportu- 
nities of  righting  or  benefiting  himself:  but  he  never  will  seek 
or  lay  hold  of  advantages  to  prejudice  others. 

He  sometimes  may  repress  insurrections  of  anger  or  dis- 
gust :  but  he  never  doth  allow  them  to  bake  into  rancor  or 
malice. 

He  may  be  apt  to  use  courteous,  affable,  obliging  demea- 
nor, serving  10  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  uncharitable 
to  any  man. 

The  principal  engines  he  doth  employ  for  achieving  his  en- 


UPRIGHT  WALKING  SURE  WALKING. 


1  1!> 


terprises  are,  a  careful  and  cautious  providence  in  contriving,  a 
sedulous  and  steady  diligence  in  acting,  a  circumspect  needful- 
ness not  to  provoke  any  man  by  offensive  carriage,  by  injury, 
by  discourtesy,  to  obstruct  him,  but  rather  by  kind  demonstra- 
tions and  real  beneficence  to  engage  men  to  further  him  in  his 
proceedings :  but  especially  his  main  instrument,  wherein  he 
most  confideth,  is  devout  supplication  to  God  for  his  succor  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  ? 

It  cannot  but  derive  blessings  from  the  God  of  truth,  the 
great  friend  of  simplicity  and  sincerity,  the  hater  of  falsehood 
and  guile. 

And  humanly  regarding  things,  he  that  useth  these  methods, 
doth  from  them  obtain  many  conveniences.  He  doth  not  lie 
under  perpetual  constraint,  engaged  to  keep  a  constant  guard 
on  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  atpainsto  obviate  thejealousies, 
the  surmises,  the  diffidences,  the  counterplots,  the  preventive 
oppositions  and  assaults  which  gloomy  closeness  and  crafty 
dissimulation  ever  do  raise  against  the  practisers  of  them.  In 
fine,  men  do  not  shun  the  conversation  and  the  commerce  of 
an  upright  person,  but  gladly  do  consort  and  deal  with  them  ; 
do  seek  his  acquaintance  and  alliance  :  they  are  not  apt  to 
distrust  him,  to  suspect  him,  to  be  shy  and  reserved  in  their 
intercourse  with  him  ;  but  readily  do  place  an  intire  confi- 
dence in  him,  and  use  a  clear  frankness  toward  him.  No  man 
doth  fear  him  as  dangerous,  or  will  cross  him  as  an  adversary. 
Whence  as  he  seldom  hath  cause  to  fear,  or  occasion  to  con- 
test with  others  ;  so  he  doth  undisturbedly  enjoy  the  benefits 
of  society  with  great  safety,  ease,  and  comfort. 

IX.  Lastly,  an  upright  walker  hath  perfect  security,  as  to 


120 


BARROW.  —  SERMON  V. 


the  final  result  of  affairs,  that  he  shall  not  be  quite  baffled  in 
his  expectations  and  desires.  And  if  prosperity  doth  consist  in 
a  satisfaction  of  mind  concerning  events,  he  cannot  fail  of 
most  prosperous  success.  '  Whatsoever  he  doeth,'  saith  the 
psalmist  of  him,  '  it  shall  prosper.'  How  is  that?  Doth 
he,  if  he  warreth,  always  get  the  victory  ?  is  he  perpe- 
tually, when  he  tradeth,  a  considerable  gainer?  will  he  cer- 
tainly, 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  sayings  :  '  Mark 
the  perfect  man,  and  behold  the  upright ;  for  the  end  of  that- 
man  is  peace.'  '  The  work  of  righteousness  shall  be  peace, 
and  the  effect  of  righteousness  quietness  and  assurance  for 
ever.'  '  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  his  favor  ;  his  design  of  satisfying 
himself,  and  discharging  his  conscience  ;  his  design  of  promo- 
ting his  own  spiritual  interest  and  saving  his  soul ;  his  design 
of  doing  good,  of  exercising  charity  to  his  neighbor,  of  serving 
the  public,  of  obliging  the  world  by  virtuous  example,  and  by- 
real  beneficence;)  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  succor  of  that  divine  grace  which 
ever  doth  favor  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  know- 
eth  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 


UPRIGHT  WALKING  SURE  WALKING. 


121 


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  endeavors.  So  that 
in  effect  he  can  have  no  bad  success.  For  how  can  that  occur- 
rence be  deemed  bad,  which  plain  reason  dictateth  in  certain 
judgment  to  be  most  expedient  for  him;  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  misfortune,  which  one  was  prepared  to  embrace  with  satis- 
faction 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  incomparably  more  excellent  than  any 
worldly  gain  ;  as  producing  fruits  exceedingly  more  wholesome 
and  more  savory  than  any  temporal  commodity  ;  as  exercis- 
ing and  improving  the  divinest  virtues,  (humility,  patience, 
meekness,  moderation,  contentedness,)  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  hu- 
man blindness  and  fondness  do  count  the  worst,)  yet  upright 
persons  do  not  come  off  ill,  or  so  (matters  being  rightly  stated"i 
as  to  be  losers  on  the  foot  of  the  account. 

If  this  do  not  satisfy  grosser  apprehensions,  we  may  add, 
that  even  in  these  meaner  concerns  Almighty  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  Psalmist  express- 
eth  it,  '  hath  pleasure  in  the  prosperity  of  his  servants.'  He 
may  seem  concerned  in  honor  to  countenance  those  who  have 
regard  to  his  will,  and  who  repose  confidence  in  his  aid  ;  dis- 
criminating them  from  such  as  presume  to  act  against  or  with- 
out him,  in  defiance  to  his  will,  with  no  deference  to  his  provi- 
dence. As  they  do  render  him  his  due  respect,  by  submitting 
to  his  authority,  and  avowing  his  power  ;  so  he  will  acknow- 
lege  them  by  signally  favoring  their  concerns.  Even  his  truth 
and  fidelity  are  engaged  in  their  behalf;  seeing  he  very  often 
hath  declared  and  promised,  that  in  all  matters,  and  on  all 
occasions,  he  will  be  ready  to  bless  them. 

BAR.  VOL.  I.  F 


122 


E  ARROW.  — SERMON*  V. 


X.  To  conclude;  it  is  an  infinite  advantage  of  upright  deal- 
ing, that  at  the  last  issue,  when  all  things  shall  be  most  accu- 
rately tried  and  impartially  decided,  a  man  is  assured  to  be 
fully  justified  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  per- 
verse intrigues  shall  be  unravelled  ;  all  wicked  and  base  inten- 
tions shall  be  quite  stripped  of  the  veils  which  now  enfold 
them  ;  all  shrewd  contrivers  and  engineers  of  mischief,  all  prac- 
tises of  unjust  and  malicious  guile,  shall  be  exposed  to  shame, 
'  shall  lie  down  in  sorrow  :'  so  then  '  the  righteous  man  shall 
stand  in  great  boldness ;'  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  meerest  shallow- 
ness; that  he  who  is  true  and  just  to  others,  is  most  faithful 
and  friendly  to  himself ;  that  whoever  doth  abuse  his  neighbor, 
is  his  own  greatest  cheater  and  foe.  For,  '  in  the  day  when 
(iod  shall  judge  the  secrets  of  men  by  Jesus  Christ,  every  man's 
work  shall  be  made  manifest.'  '  The  Lord  will  bring  to  light 
the  hidden  things  of  darkness,  and  will  make  manifest  the  coun- 
sels of  the  hearts  :  and  then  shall  every  man  have  praise  of 
God.'  L'nto  which  our  upright  Judge,  '  the  King  eternal,  im- 
mortal, invisible,  the  only  wise  God,  be  honor  and  glory  for 
ever  and  ever.'  Amen. 


sermon  rs, 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  Vt 

I  THE55ALONIANS.  CHAP.  V. — VERSE  V, . 

Manner  in  which  St.  Paul,  after  ili  i  ■  i  ia},  ataia  points  of 
doctrine  or  discipline,  freaaeady  piopuscj  good  advice  aad 
rales  of  conduct,  withoat  My  fat— 1  Method  or  strietfnwfiini 
Example  of  that  ia  the  text.  For  the  aadw^aadiag  of  it.  mm 
■■st  consider  what  is  meant  by  the  act  enjoined,  or  nrwria*. 
and  what  is  the  import  of  the  qualification  or  circaanstaace  ad- 
joined, tritkcut  «<ni;. 

1 .  The  word  prayer  does,  in  its  usual  latitude  of  accepta- 
tion, comprehend  all  sorts  of  devotion,  or  all  that  part  of  reh- 
sioas  practice  wherein  we  do  immediately  address  ourselves  to 
God,  holding  by  speech,  oral  or  mental,  a  kind  of  intercoms? 
aad  conversation  with  him :  this  point  enlarged  on.  Ia  a 
stricter  sense  it  signifies  only  one  particular  act.  the  petition 
of  things  needful  or  useful  to  as.  It  is  in  this  dtscoaase  aadtr- 
stood  ia  the  first  aad  comprehensive  meaning :  reasons  for  this 
given. 

•1.  Meaning  of  the  expression  tcitkcmt  orasutg.  It  is  not  to 
be  understood  as  if  we  were  obliged,  in  i  n  ij  ia  Jaal  ww»hf 
point  of  time,  actually  to  apply  oar  minds  to  prayer ;  for  this 
is  impossible,  and  therefore  can  be  no  matter  of  duty  >  is  in- 
consistent with  other  duties,  aad  therefore  mast  not  be  prac- 
tised. Arc. :  but  the  precept,  like  many  others  of  a  like  general 
purport  and  expression,  must  be  aaderstood  ia  a  moral  rather 
than  a  natural  sense,  according  as  the  exigence  of  thing-  per- 
mits, or  the  reason  of  the  case  requires.    Various  senses  of 


124 


SUMMARY  OF 


which  it  is  capable,  propounded  on  plain  testimonies  of  Scrip- 
ture, and  agreeable  to  sound  reason. 

I.  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  shown,  according  to  moral  estimation,  and  current  lan- 
guage derived  thence,  to  amount  to  a  continual  practice. 

II.  It  may  denote  a  vigilant  attendance,  with  earnest  regard 
and  firm  purpose,  employed  on  devotion  ;  such  attendance  as 
men  usually  bestow  on  their  affairs,  of  which  the  actual  prose- 
cution sometimes  stops,  though  the  design  continually  pro- 
ceeds; the  mind  ever  so  directing  its  eye  towards  them,  as 
quickly  to  espy,  and  readily  to  snatch  any  advantages  of  pro- 
moting them  :  this  point  enlarged  on. 

III.  It  may  signify  that  we  do  actually  embrace  all  fit  sea- 
sons and  occasions  of  devotion  :  this  in  moral  computation  passes 
for  continual  performance,  as  a  tree  is  said  to  bear  that  fruit 
which  it  produces  in  the  season,  and  a  man  is  accounted  to  work 
in  that  trade  which  he  exercises  whenever  he  is  called  thereto. 
Many  special  occasions  enumerated,  in  which  this  duty  is  indis- 
pensably required  of  us,  both  those  which,  as  it  were,  outwardly 
prompt  and  urge  us,  and  those  which  spring  up  within  us, 
which  we  are  no  less  obliged  and  concerned  to  embrace. 

IV.  Praying  incessantly  may  signify  that  we  should  with 
assiduous  urgency  drive  on  the  intent  of  our  prayers,  never 
quitting  it,  nor  desisting,  till  our  requests  are  granted,  or  our 
desires  accomplished  :  thus  doing  we  may  be  said  to  pray  con- 
tinually ;  as  he  that  goeth  forward  in  his  journey,  although  he 
may  sometimes  rest  and  repose  himself,  is  said  yet  to  be  in  tra- 
vel. Instances  given  in  which  this  practice  is  recommended 
by  holy  Scripture.  Shown  also  to  be  agreeable  to  and  en- 
forced by  reason.  Many  assurances  of  good  success  to  this 
practice  in  holy  Scripture.  It  is  shown  that  without  it  we 
cannot  hope  to  obtain  the  precious  things  of  God's  bounty ; 


SERMON  VI. 


\  25 


and  that  for  the  same  reason  that  we  pray  at  all,  we  should 
thus  pray  with  continued  instance. 

V.  Praying  incessantly  may  import  that  we  do  with  all 
our  occupations  and  all  occurrences  interlace  devout  ejacula- 
tions 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  seems  to  be  re- 
quired by  St.  Paul,  when  he  enjoins  us  to  pray  always  in  spirit, 
and  to  sing  in  the  heart;  that  is,  with  very  frequent  elevations 
of  spirit  in  holy  thoughts  and  desires  toward  heaven,  since  we 
cannot  ever  be  framing,  or  venting  long  prayers  with  our  lips  : 
this  point  enlarged  on. 

Other  good  meanings  of  this  precept,  according  to  which 
both  Scripture  and  reason  oblige  us  to  observe  it,  are  reserved 
for  the  next  discourse. 


126 


BARROW. — SERMON  VI. 


SERMON  VI. 
OF  THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


I  THESSALONIANS,   CHAP.  V. — VERSE  17. 
Pray  without  ceasing. 

It  is  the  manner  of  St.  Paul  in  his  epistles,  after  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  compiled  a  body  of  ethics,  or  system  of  precepts  de 
ojjiciis,  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  connexion,  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;  the  which,  having  no 
other  plain  coherence  (except  by  affinity  of  matter)  with  the 
rest  inclosing  it,  I  shall  consider  absolutely  by  itself,  endea- 
voring somewhat  to  explain  it,  and  to  urge  its  practice. 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


121 


'  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  ad- 
joined, '  without  ceasing,'  doth  import. 

1.  The  word  '  prayer'  doth,  in  its  usual  latitude  of  accep- 
tion,  comprehend  all  sorts  of  devotion,  or  all  that  part  of  reli- 
gious 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  glorious  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  acknowlegement  of  our  intire  dependence  on 
him,  or  our  total  subjection  to  his  power  and  pleasure  ;  toge- 
ther 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  grievous  sinners ; 
that  petition  of  things  needful  or  convenient  for  us,  (of  supply 
in  our  wants,  of  succor  and  comfort  in  our  distresses,  of  direc- 
tion and  assistance  in  our  undertakings,  of  mercy  and  pardon 
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  is  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  comprehensive  meaning,  1 


128 


BARROW. — SERMON  VI. 


choose  to  understand  it  here  ;  both  because  it  is  most  com- 
monly so  used,  (then,  especially,  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  perform- 
ance of  all  these  duties  in  the  manner  here  prescribed :  nor  is 
there  any  ground  to  exclude  any  part  of  devotion  from  conti- 
nual 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  God, 
(that  ttuou  nporrev\t),  '  all  prayer  and  supplication,'  which  St. 
Paul  otherwhere  speaketh  of)  are  here  enjoined,  according  to 
the  manner  adjoined,  'without  ceasing,'  d6<aXe(7rra»s,  that  is, 
indefinitely,  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, 
sometimes  must  be  spent  in  attendance  on  other  reasonable 
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  understood  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  conveniently  practicable,  or  as  it  is  reasonably  compatible 
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  understood,  and  how  far  it  should  extend,  we 
shall  endeavor  to  declare  by  propounding  divers  senses  whereof 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


129 


it  is  capable,  grounded  on  plain  testimonies  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  main- 
taining in  our  souls  a  ready  disposition  or  habitual  inclination 
to  devotion  ;  that  which  in  Scripture  is  termed  '  the  spirit  of 
supplication.'  This  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  is  ever  merciful,  and  lendeth,'  because  he  is  constantly 
disposed  to  supply  his  neighbor  with  needful  relief ;  although 
he  doth  not  ever  actually  dispense  alms,  or  furnish  his  neighbor 
with  supplies  for  his  necessity.  The  words  may  signify  this  ; 
they  do  at  least  by  consequence  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  ?  If  the  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  mind  girt,'  and  'our 
feet  shod  in  preparation'  to  the  service,  when  shall  we  set  for- 
ward thereto  ?  '  My  heart,'  said  David,  '  is  fixed,  I  will  sing 
and  give  praise  ;'  fixed,  that  is,  readily  prepared,  and  steadily 
inclined  to  devotion.  So  should  ours  constantly  be.  As  a 
true  friend  is  ever  ready  to  entertain  his  friend  with  a  frank 
courtesy  and  complacency;  as  he  ever  is  apt  on  occasion  for 
advice  and  assistance  to  have  recourse  to  him  :  so  should  we  be 
always  disposed  cheerfully  and  decently  to  converse  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 
affection,  from  sluggishness  of  spirit,  from  worldly  distraction) 
any  indisposition  or  averseness  thereto,  we  should,  by  serious 
consideration  and  industrious  care,  labor  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 


130 


BARROW.— SERMON  VI. 


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. 

II.  '  Praying  incessantly'  may  denote  a  vigilant  attendance 
(with  earnest  regard,  and  firm  purpose)  employed  on  devo- 
tion :  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  di- 
recting 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  an  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  continues  uninterrupted.  This 
is  that  which  is  so  often  injoined  under  the  phrase  of  watching 
about  prayer.  '  Watch  ye  therefore,  and  pray  always,'  saith 
our  Lord.  '  Continue  in  prayer,  and  watch  in  the  same,'  saith 
St.  Paul.  '  Be  ye  sober,  and  watch  unto  prayer,'  saith  St. 
Peter.  Which  expressions  import  a  most  constant  and  careful 
attendance  on  this  duty :  that  we  do  not  make  it  a  irapepyov, 
or  bye-business  in  our  life,  (a  matter  of  small  consideration  or 
indifference,  of  curiosity,  of  chance,)  to  be  transacted  drowsily 
or  faintly,  with  a  desultorious  and  slight  endeavor,  by  fits,  as 
the  humor  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  undistracted  attention, 
pursue  it  with  unwearied  diligence,  being  always  on  the  guard, 
wakeful  and  expedite,  intent  on  and  apt  to  close  with  any  oc- 
casion suggesting  matter  thereof.  That  we  should  do  thus 
reason  also  doth  oblige  :  for  that,  as  in  truth  no  business  doth 
better  deserve  our  utmost  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. 

III.  '  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  perform- 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


ahce :  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  St.  Paul,  '  with  all  prayer  and  supplication,'  kv 
■kuvtl  Kaipu-  and, '  watch,'  saith  our  Lord,  kv  Ttavri  icaipui  beofievoi, 
'  praying  in  every  season,'  or  on  every  opportunity.  Devo- 
tion, indeed,  is  rarely  unseasonable,  or  impertinent :  we  may 
offer  it  evKaipws,  aKaipws,  '  in  season,  and  out  of  season  ;' 
that  is,  not  only  taking-  opportunities  presented  for  it,  or  ur- 
gently 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  impor- 
tunately and  indispensably  do  exact  it:  some  seasons  there  are, 
(either  ministered  by  extrinsical  accidents,  or  springing  from 
internal  dispositions,)  when,  without  both  great  blame  and 
much  damage  to  ourselves,  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  therein.  '  Every 
one,'  saith  the  psalmist,  '  that  is  godly  will  pray  unto  thee  in 
a  time  when  thou  mayest  be  found  :'  and,  '  my  prayer,'  saith 
he  again,  '  is  unto  thee  in  an  acceptable  time.' 

Thuswhen  we  have  received  any  singular  blessing  or  notable 
favor  from  God,  when  prosperous  success  hath  attended  our 
honest  enterprises,  when  we  have  been  happily  rescued  from 
imminent  dangers,  when  we  have  been  supported  in  difficulties, 
or  relieved  in  wants  and  straits  ;  then  is  it  seasonable  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  trou- 
ble,' our  '  fortress,  and  the  rock  of  our  salvation.'  To  omit 
this  piece  of  devotion  then  is  vile  ingratitude,  or  stupid  negli- 
gence and  sloth. 

When  any  rare  object  or  remarkable  occurrence  doth,  on 
this  theatre  of  the  world,  present  itself  to  our  view,  in  surveying 
the  glorious  works  of  nature,  or  the  strange  events  of  Provi- 
dence ;  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. 


3  32  BARROW. — SERMON  VI. 

When  we  undertake  any  business  of  special  moment  and  dif- 
ficulty, then  it  is  expedient  (wisdom  prompting  it)  to  sue  for 
God's  aid,  to  commit  our  affairs  into  his  hand,  to  recommend 
our  endeavors  to  the  blessing  of  him  by  whose  guidance  all 
things  are  ordered,  without  whose  concourse  nothing  can  be 
effected,  on  whose  arbitrary  disposal  all  success  dependeth. 

The  beginning  of  any  design  or  business  (although  ordinary, 
if  considerable)  is  a  proper  season  of  prayer  unto  him  to  whose 
bounty  and  favor  we  owe  our  ability  to  act,  support  in  our  pro- 
ceedings, any  comfortable  issue  of  what  we  do :  (for  '  all  our 
sufficiency  is  of  him  :'  '  without  him  we  can  do  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  favorable  protection,  guid- 
ance, 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 
iloth  the  time  bid  us  to  consult  the  great  Oracle  of  truth,  '  the 
mighty  Counsellor,'  '  the  Father  of  lights,'  seeking  resolution  and 
satisfaction,  light  and  wisdom  from  him ;  saying  with  the 
psalmist,  '  Show  me  thy  ways,  O  Lord,  lead  me  in  thy  truth, 
and  teach  me  ;  for  thou  art  the  God  of  my  salvation.'  '  Order 
my  steps  in  thy  word,  and  let  not  any  iniquity  have  dominion 
over  me  ;'  following  the  advice  of  St.  James, '  If  any  man  lack 
wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God,  thatgiveth  to  all  men  liberally,  and 
upbraideth  not ;  and  it  shall  be  given  him.' 

When  any  storm  of  danger  blustereth  about  us,  perilously 
threatening  or  furiously  assailing  us  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  on  God,  committing  the  matter  of  them  to 
his  care  and  providence  ;  according  to  that  direction  of  St. 
Paul,  'be  careful  for  nothing;  but  in  every  thing  by  prayer 


THE  DUTY  OF  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  succor  and  support,  for  ease 
and  comfort,  we  should  have  recourse  to  '  the  Father  of  pities, 
and  God  of  all  consolation  ;  who  is  nigh  to  all  that  call  on  him, 
will  also  hear  their  cry,  and  will  save  them ;'  who,  when  '  the 
righteous  cry,  doth  hear  them,  and  delivereth  them  out  of  all 
their  troubles;'  who  is  so  often  styled  '  the  hiding-place  from 
troubles,'  '  the  help  and  strength,'  '  the  shield  and  buckler,'  •  the 
rock,'  '  the  fortress,'  'the  high  tower,'  '  the  horn  of  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  :  I  poured  out  my  complaint  before  him,  I  showed  be- 
fore him  my  trouble  :'  '  I  called  unto  the  Lord  in  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  grapple,  but  arc  like  to  sink  and 
faulter  under  it;  then  is  it  opportune  and  needful  that  we 
should  seek  to  God  for  a  supply  of  spiritual  forces,  and  the 
succor  of  his  almighty  grace,  as  St.  Paul  did  :  when  'there 
was  given  to  him  a  thorn  in  the  flesh,  a  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  sufficient  for  thee.' 

When  also  (from  ignorance  or  mistake,  from  inadvertency, 
negligence,  or  rashness,  from  weakness,  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  confession  in  our  mouths,  and 
serious  contrition  in  our  hearts,  we  should  apply  ourselves  to 
the  God  of  mercy,  deprecating  his  wrath,  and  imploring  par- 
don from  him;  remembering  that  promise  of  St.  John,  '  if  we 
confess  our  sins,  he  is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive  us  our  sins, 
and  to  cleanse  us  from  all  iniquity  ;'  and  that  declaration  of 
the  wise  man  '  he  that  covereth  his  sins  shall  not  prosper,  but 
he  that  confesseth  and  forsaketh  them  shall  have  mercy.' 


134 


BARROW. — SERMON  VI. 


In  these  and  the  like  cases  God  by  our  necessities  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  exhortetb) 
'  come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace,  that  we  may  obtain 
mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help  in  time  of  need,'  (or,  for  sea- 
sonable relief:  els  eiiKatpov  (iorjdeiav.) 

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  him,  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  suggestions  or  motions. 

Whenever  we  find  ourselves  well  affected  to,  or  well  framed 
for  devotion  ;  that  we  have  a  lively  sense  of,  and  a  coming  ap- 
petite to  spiritual  things ;  that  our  spirits  are  brisk  and  pure, 
our  fancy  calm  and  clear,  our  hearts  tender  and  supple,  our  af- 
fections 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  dis- 
positions to  the  practice  of  this  duty,  we  should  never  check  or 
curb  them,  but  rather  should  promote  and  advance  them;  push- 
ing ourselves  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  overflow  and  diffuse  itself  in  exube- 
rance of  devotion.  Farther, 

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  de- 
sires are  accomplished.  Thus  doing  we  may  be  said  to  pray 
continually  :  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 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


136 


him,  that  '  he  spake  a  parable  unto  them,  that  men  ought  al- 
ways to  pray,  and  not  to  faint.'  That  '  praying-  always'  the 
ensuing  discourse  showeth  to  import  restless  importunity,  and 
perseverance  in  prayer :  the  same  which  so  often  is  commended 
to  us  by  the  phrases  of  /j>)  emtKetv,  '  not  to  faint'  or  '  faulter  ;'  fjiij 
vaveadai,  '  not  to  cease, 'or  give  over  ;  xpoaKaprfpeiv,  '  to  continue 
instant,'  or  hold  out  stoutly  ;  aywviieaQai,  '  to  strive  earnestly,' 
or  contest  and  struggle  in  prayers  ;  wpoafieveiv  ra«s  bel/atci,  '  to 
abide  at  supplications  ;'  aypv-xve'iv  kv  Traarj  TrpO(jKapTepr](Tei,  '  to 
watch  with  all  perseverance.'  That  which  also  is  implied  by 
those  terms,  which  in  scriptural  style  do  commonly  express  de- 
votion :  by  '  seeking  God ;'  which  implieth  that  God  doth 
not  presently,  on  any  slight  address,  discover  himself  in  bene- 
ficial effects  answerable  to  our  desires,  but  after  a  careful  and 
painful  continuance  in  our  applications  to  him  :  by  '  waiting 
on  God  ;'  which  signifieth  that  if  God  do  not  presently  ap- 
pear, granting  our  requests,  we  should  patiently  stay,  expect- 
ing till  he  be  pleased  to  do  it  in  his  own  best  time,  according 
to  that  in  the  Psalm,  '  Our  eyes  wait  on  the  Lord  our  God,  un- 
til he  have  mercy  on  us :'  by  <  knocking ;'  which  btimateth  that 
the  door  of  grace  doth  not  ever  stand  open,  or  that  we  can  have 
an  effectual  access  to  God,  until  he,  warned,  and  as  it  were 
excited,  by  our  earnest  importunity,  pleaseth  to  listen,  to  dis- 
close himself,  to  come  forth  unto  us. 

And  this  practice  reason  also  doth  enforce.  For  there  are 
some  good  things  absolutely  necessary  for  our  spiritual  life  and 
welfare,  (such  as  are  freedom  from  bad  inclinations,  disorderly 
affections,  vicious  habits,  and  noxious  errors;  the  sanctifying 
presence  and  influence  of  God's  holy  Spirit,  with  the  blessed 
graces  and  sweet  fruits  thereof ;  growth  in  virtue,  delight  in 
spiritual  things,  the  sense  of  God's  love  and  favor,  with  the 
like,)  which  good  reason  engageth  us  perseveringly  to  seek,  as 
never  to  rest  or  be  satisfied  till  we  have  acquired  them  in  per- 
fect 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  con- 
cerned) it  were  a  folly  to  be  slack  or  timorous ;  as  we  cannot 
be  said  immoderately  to  desire  them,  so  we  cannot  be  supposed 


i:3<» 


BARROW. — SERMON  VI. 


immodestly  to  seek  them  there,  where  only  they  can  be  found, 
iu  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,  comparing  the  manner  of  God's  proceeding  with  that  of 
men,  he  representeth  one  friend  yielding  needful  succour  to 
another,  not  barely  on  the  score  of  friendship,  but  bia  rifp  uvai- 
beiav,  '  for  his  impudence;'  that  is,  for  his  confident  and  con- 
tinued 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  the  prophet;)  not  enduring  to  be  put  off, 
or  brooking  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  Jacob  may  say,  '  I 
will  not  let  thee  go  except  thou  bless  me.'  Thus  God  suffer- 
eth  himself  to  be  prevailed  on,  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  holdout  against  the  attempts  of  an  obstinate  suppliant. 
'  So  the  kingdom  of  heaven  sufFereth  violence,  and  the  violent 
take  it  by  force.'  We  read  in  St.  John's  gospel  of  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  ii 
for  an  example  to  us  of  perseverance.  It  is  said  of  the 
patriarch  Isaac,  that  '  he  intreated  the  Lord  for  his  wife, 
because  she  was  barren  ;  and  the  Lord  was  intreated  of  him, 
and  Rebecca  his  wife  conceived.'  Whereon  St.  Chrysostom 
doth  observe  that  he  had  persevered  twenty  years  in  that 
petition. 

Of  good  success  to  this  practice  we  have  many  assurances  in 
holy  Scripture.  '  The  Lord  is  good  unto  them  that  wait  for 
him,  to  the  soul  that  seeketh  him.'  '  Blessed  are  all  they  that 
wait  for  him.'  'None  that  wait  on  him  shall  be  ashamed.'  'They 
that  wait  on  the  Lord  shall  renew  their  strength;  they  shall 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


137 


mount  Up  with  wings  as  eagles;  they  shall  run,  and  not  be 
weary;  they  shall  walk,  and  not  faint.'  So  hath  God  assured 
by  his  word,  and  engaged  himself  by  promise,  that  he  will  yield 
unto  constant  and  patient  devotion ;  so  that  it  shall  never  want 
good  success. 

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  on  assiduous  soliciting, 
and  by  gradual  communication,  that  he  dispenseth  them.  So 
his  wise  good  will,  for  many  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  dependence  on  God,  and  obligation  to  him  for  the  free 
collation  of  those  best  gifts ;  that  by  some  difficulty  of  pro- 
curing 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  answerable 
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  endeavor  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  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  bettering,  ennobling,  and  perfecting  our 
souls  ;  because  it  breedeth  most  holy  affections,  and  pure  satis- 
factions, and  worthy  resolutions ;  because  it  fitteth  us  for  the 
enjoyment  of  happiness,  and  leadeth  us  thither  ;  for  such  ends 


138 


BARROW. — SERMON  VI. 


devotion  is  prescribed  ;  and  constant  perseverance  therein  being 
needful  to  those  purposes,  (praying  by  fits  and  starts  not  suffi- 
cing to  accomplish  them,)  therefore  such  perseverance  is  re- 
quired of  us.  Farther, 

V.  '  Praying  incessantly'  may  import  that  we  do  with  all 
our  occupations  and  all  occurrences  interlace  devout  ejacula- 
tions 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  accomplishment  of  what  our 
text  prescribeth,  so  it  seemeth  required  by  St.  Paul,  when  he 
biddeth  us  *  pray  always*  kv  irvev/iari  '  in  spirit,'  and  to  sing  ev 

Kaphta,  '  in  the  heart;'  that  is,  with  very  frequent  elevations 
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  intermission  or  impediment,  doth  concur  with  all  our 
actions,  so  may  that  breathing  of  soul,  which  preserveth  our 
spiritual  life,  and  ventilateth  that  holy  flame  within  us,  well 
conspire  with  all  other  occupations.!  For  devotion  is  of  a 
nature  so  spiritual,  so  subtile,  and  penetrant,  that  no  matter 
can  exclude  or  obstruct  it.  Our  minds  are  so  exceedingly 
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  calking  about  his  bags  and  trea- 

*  Sed  non  satis  perspiciunt  quantum  natura  humani  ingenii  va- 
leat,  quae  ita  est  agilis  et  velox,  sic  in  omiiem  partem  (ut  ita  dixe- 
rim)  spectat,  ut  ue  possit  quidem  aliquid  agere  tantum  unum  ;  in 
plura  vero  non  eodem  die  modo,  sed  eodein  temporis  momento, 
vim  suam  impendat. — Quint,  i.  12. 

t  yivr)[j.ov£VTeov  yap  0eoD  paWov  %  avairvevfnsov  koX  et  ol6v  re  touto  eiffelc, 
f«)5*  &Wo  ti  t)  tovto  irpaKTtov  Naz.  Or.  33. 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


13!) 


sures ;  an  ambitious  man  will  be  devising  on  his  plots  and 
projects;  a  voluptuous  man  will  have  his  mind  in  his  dishes;  a 
lascivious  man  will  be  doting  on  his  amours ;  a  studious  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  reflexions  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  on  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  con- 
cerning 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  dispatch  a  brief  petition  for  it :  a  '  God  be  praised,'  a 
'  Lord  have  mercy,'  a  '  God  bless,'  or  '  Gold  help  me,'  will 
nowise  interrupt  or  disturb  our  proceedings.  *  As  worldly 
cares  and  desires  do  often  intrude  and  creep  into  our  devotions, 
distracting  and  defiling  them  ;  so  may  spiritual  thoughts  and 
holy  affections  insinuate  themselves  into,  and  hallow  our 
secular  transactions.  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  savor  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,  accord- 
ing to  which  holy  Scripture  (backed  with  good  reason)  obli- 
geth  us  to  observe  it  :  but  those,  (together  with  the  general 
inducements  to  the  practice  of  this  duty,)  that  I  may  not. 
farther  now  trespass  on  your  patience,  I  shall  reserve  to 
another  opportunity. 

*  E'mi  KQiTct  Si&votav,  'E\zr)(r6v  /xe,  6  Qehs,  Kal  airiiprurrai'  <rov  rj  evxfl- — 

Chrys.  Orat.  v.  in  Annatn,  v.  p,  78,  79. 


i  to 


SUMMARY  OF 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  VII. 

1  THESSALONI ANS,  CHAP.  V. — VERSE  17. 

What  the  prayer  here  enjoined  by  St.  Paul  imports,  and 
how,  according  to  different  senses,  we  may  perform  this  duty 
incessantly,  has  been  declared  in  the  preceding  discourse  : 
two  or  three  more  are  now  added  and  pressed  on  our  obser- 
vation. 

VI.  Praying  incessantly  may  imply  that  we  appoint  certain 
times  conveniently  distant  for  the  practice  of  devotion,  and 
carefully  observe  them  :  as  the  Jews  had  a  sacrifice  called 
Tamidh,  which  being  constantly  offered  at  set  times,  was 
thence  denominated  the  continual  sacrifice;  so  may  we,  by 
punctually  observing  fit  returns  of  devotion,  be  said  to  pray 
incessantly.  Reasons  given  why  we  should  do  this.  In 
determining  these  seasons  according  to  just  proportions,  honest 
prudence  must  arbitrate.  It  is  shown  how  that  nature  herself 
seems  to  prescribe  and  define  certain  seasons  and  periods  ot 
this  kind.  These  times  it  is  necessary  or  expedient  that 
persons  of  the  highest  rank  and  greatest  employment  should 
observe.  God  himself  appointed  such  in  his  law,  or  by  his 
prophets;  besides  which,  there  were  other  middle  times  farther 
observed  by  devout  people  who  had  leisure  and  disposition 
of  mind  thereto  :  references  to  such  in  the  holy  Scripture. 
And  if  the  Jews  were  so  liberal  in  appointing  times  for 
yielding  praise  and  offering  supplications  to  God,  how  much 
more  ready  and  diligent  should  we  be,  who  have  a  religion 
far  more  spiritual  and  exempt  from  corporeal  incumbrances  ? 
But, 


SERMON  VII. 


141 


VII.  This  precept  may  be  more  especially  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 
indcsinently,  when  we  perform  it  so  often  as  is  required  by  law 
or  custom :  illustrations  from  Scripture.  Motives  for  our  ob- 
serving these  legal  times,  given  from  reason,  and  enforced  by 
Scripture. 

VIII.  Lastly,  praying  incessantly  may  import  at  large  a 
frequency  in  devotion.  This  the  words  at  least  do  exact  or 
necessarily  imply,  however  expounded :  for  doing  a  thing 
incessantly  cannot  imply  less  than  doing  it  frequently  ;  but  it 
is  an  ordinary  figure  of  speech  to  say,  a  man  does  that  always 
which  he  is  wont  to  do  and  performs  often  :  this  illustrated 
from  Scripture.  It  is  shown  that  the  causes  of  devotion  being 
so  constant,  the  effects  in  some  correspondence  should  be 
frequent. 

Such  frequency  necessary  for  the  nourishment,  growth,  and 
improvement  of  all  piety  ;  to  keep  us  steady  in  our  obedience  ; 
to  correct  our  perverse  inclinations,  and  subdue  our  vicious 
appetites  ;  to  maintain  that  friendship  with  God,  which  is  the 
soul  of  piety.  It  is  the  frequency  of  devotion  which  alone  can 
secure  any  practice  thereof,  at  least  any  duly  qualified.  It  is 
this  which  will  render  the  way  into  God's  presence  smooth  and 
passable,  removing  all  fear  and  doubt  in  respect  to  God,  which 
might  deter  or  discourage  us  from  approaching  him  :  this  illus- 
trated by  quotations  from  holy  Scripture. 

From  thus  praying  continually  there  can  be  no  good 
exception  or  just  excuse.  The  most  common  pleas  alleged 
for  the  omission  are  two ;  one  drawn  from  external  avo- 
cations, the  other  from  internal  indispositions  obstructing  it  ; 
both  of  which  rather  serve  to  aggravate  than  to  excuse  the 
neglect. 


142 


SUMMARY  OF 


I.  The  first  plea  or  apology  refuted  by  a  few  questions 
asked  concerning  it.  1.  Do  we  take  devotion  itself  to  be  no 
business,  or  a  business  of  no  consideration  ?  2.  What  other 
affairs  can  we  have  of  greater  moment  or  necessity?  3.  If  we 
survey  and  prize  all  worldly  affairs,  which  among  them  will 
appear  so  importunate  as  to  demand,  or  so  worthy  as  to  deserve 
all  our  time,  that  we  cannot  spare  a  few  moments  for  inter- 
course with  heaven?  4.  Should  we  not,  if  we  honestly  made 
the  comparison,  easily  discern  that  it  is  no  indispensable 
business,  but  rather  some  base  dotage  on  lucre,  some  inveig- 
ling pleasure,  that  crosses  our  devotion  ?  5.  Is  it  not  com- 
monly sloth  rather  than  activity  that  diverts  us  from  our 
prayers  ?  6.  But  even  if  there  were,  not  a  counterfeit,  but  a 
real  competition  between  devotion  and  other  lawful  business, 
which  in  reason  ought  to  carry  it  ?  which  in  conscience  ought 
to  be  forborne  or  suspended  ?  7.  Is  it  not  strangely  absurd 
and  unhandsome  to  say,  I  cannot  wait  on  God,  because  I  must 
speak  with  a  friend  ;  I  cannot  go  to  church,  though  God  calls 
me  thither,  because  I  must  haste  to  market,  &c.  ?  8.  31ore- 
over  if  we  reflect  on  the  large  portions  of  time  which  we 
squander  on  our  petty  matters  or  voluptuous  enjoyments,  how 
can  we  satisfy  ourselves  in  not  allotting  competent  time  for 
God's  service,  and  our  own  salvation  ?  9.  Again,  is  it  not  great 
imprudence  so  to  lay  our  business,  that  any  other  matter  shall 
thwart  or  thrust  out  devotion  ?  10.  In  truth,  will  not  an 
attendance  on  devotion  be  a  great  furtherance  to  all  other  good 
business?  This  point  enlarged  on  :  instances  given  of  David, 
Daniel,  and  Constantine. 

II.  No  better  can  a  man  ward  off  blame  from  himself,  by 
imputing  the  neglect  of  devotion  to  some  indisposition  from 
within.  This  is  only  to  cover  one  fault  with  another ;  is  in 
effect  to  say,  we  may  sin  because  we  have  a  mind  to  it :  our 
indisposition  itself  is  criminal,  and  the  more  so  from  its  being 


SERMON  VII. 


143 


somewhat  habitual :  it  ought  therefore  to  be  corrected  and 
cured  by  an  immediate  practice  of  the  duty,  and  by  resolute 
perseverance  in  it.  Prayer  by  degrees  will  become  natural  and 
delightful  to  us. 


1-14 


BARROW. — SERMON  VII. 


SERMON  VII. 

OF  THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


I  THESSALON I ANS,  CHAP.  V. — VERSE  17. 
Pray  without  ceasing. 

What  the  prayer  here  enjoined  by  St.  Paul  doth  import., 
and  how  by  it  universally  all  sorts  of  devotion  should  be  under- 
stood, we  did  formerly  discourse.  How  also  according  to 
divers  senses  (grounded  in  holy  Scripture,  and  enforced  by  good 
reason)  we  may  perform  this  duty  incessantly,  we  did  then 
declare ;  five  such  senses  we  did  mention  and  prosecute  :  I 
shall  now  add  two  or  three  more,  and  press  them. 

VI.  Praying  then  incessantly  may  imply  that  we  do  ap- 
point 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  sacri- 
fice, which  was  called  Tamidh,  (»/  Sia7ravros  Qvaia)  the  conti- 
nual sacrifice.  And  as  that  sacrifice,  being  constantly  offered 
at  set  times,  was  thence  denominated  continual ;  so  may  wi . 
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  slatter- 
ing  life,  but  design  with  good  assurance  and  advantage  to  pro- 
secute an  orderly  course  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  re- 
laxation of  their  minds,  some  to  the  dispatch  of  their  ordinary 
affairs,  some  also  to  familiar  conversation  and  interchanging 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER.  145 

good  offices  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  al- 
lotted 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  pleasant  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  periodical  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  inclosures,  all  other  busi- 
nesses ;  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  encroachment  of  other  affairs,  or  entice- 
ment of  other  pleasures.  It  is  requisite  that  our  souls  also  (no 
Jess  than  our  bodies)  should  have  their  meals,  settled  at  such 
intervals  as  the  maintenance  of  their  life,  their  health,  their 
strength  and  vigor  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  sin  which  doth  so  easily  beset  us')  may  not  come  on  be- 
tween, 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  con- 

*  Cur  ipsi  illiquid  forensibus  negotiis,  aliquid  desideriis  amico- 
runi,  aliquid  rationibus  doniesticis,  aliquid  curae  corporis,  nonnihil 
voluptati  quotidie  danius? — Quint,  i.  12. 

BAR.  VOL.  1.  G 


lit 


BARROW. — SERMON  VII. 


ditions,  capacities,  and  circumstances  of  each  person)  must  ar- 
bitrate. 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  in- 
cumbrances 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 
continuance  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. 

Certain  seasons  and  periods  of  this  kind  nature  itself  (in  cor- 
respondence to  her  unalterable  revolutions)  doth  seem  to  define 
and  prescribe  :  those  which  the  royal  prophet  recommendeth, 
when  he  saith,  '  It  is  a  good  thing  to  give  thanks  unto  the 
Lord,  and  to  sing  praises  unto  thy  name,  O  thou  most  high  :' 
'  To  show  forth  thy  loving-kindness  every  morning,  and  thy 
faithfulness  every  night.'  Every  day  we  do  recover  and  receive 
a  new  life  from  God ;  every  morning  we  do  commence  busi- 
ness, 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  espe- 
cially therefore  it  is  reasonable  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  labors,  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  watch- 
ful over  us.  Then  also  peculiarly  devotion  is  most  seasonable, 
because  then  our  minds  being  less  prepossessed  and  pestered  with 
other  cares,  our  fancies  becoming  lively  and  gay,  our  memo- 
ries 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  wind  up  all  our  cares  in 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


14? 


devotion ;  that  we  should  then  bless  God  for  his  gracious  pre- 
servation 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 
labor  and  toil,  that  we  cannot  any  longer  sustain  ourselves,  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,  depo- 
siting ourselves  and  our  concernments  into  his  custody,  who 
alone  '  doth  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  there- 
after comfortably  to  enjoy  ourselves,  and  delightfully  to  serve 
him. 

Thus  if  we  do  constantly  bound  and  circumscribe  our  days, 
dedicating  those  most  remarkable  breaks  of  time  unto  God's  ser- 
vice, since  beginning  and  end  do  comprehend  the  whole,  seeing, 
in  the  computation  and  style  of  Moses,  '  evening  and  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  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  vigor  and 
alacrity  we  may  perform  the  ensuing  duties  to  God's  honor  and 
our  own  comfort.  Thus  to  practise  was  the  resolution  of  the 
psalmist,  that  great  master  of  devotion :  '  evening,'  said  he, 
»  and  morning,  and  at  noon,  will  I  pray,  and  cry  aloud.'  And 
this  was  the  custom  of  the  noble  Daniel,  from  which  no  occa- 
sion could  divert,  no  hazard  could  deter  him ;  '  he  kneeled,' 
saith  the  story,  '  on  his  knees  three  times  a  day,  and  prayed, 
and  gave  thanks  before  his  God.' 


]  40 


BARROW. — SERMON  VII. 


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  reli- 
gious persons,  not  expressly  prescribed  by  God's  law,  but  as- 
sumed by  themselves ;  good  reason  suggesting  them  to  the  first 
practisers,  and  the  consenting  example  of  pious  men  afterward 
inforcing  them. 

God  indeed  did  himself  in  his  law,  or  by  his  prophets,  ap- 
point public  and  solemn  celebrations  of  worship  to  himself,  in 
sacrifices  (involving  prayer  and  accompanied  therewith)  con- 
stantly to  be  offered  every  morning  and  evening:  religious 
princes  also  did  institute  services  of  thanksgiving  and  praise  to 
be  performed  at  those  times :  but  there  doth  not  appear  any 
direct  institution  of  private  devotion,  or  its  circumstances;  but 
the  practice  thereof  seemeth  originally  to  have  been  purely  vo- 
luntary, managed  and  measured  according  to  the  reason,  by  the 
choice  of  each  person  ;  yet  so  that  the  practice  of  eminently 
good  men  leading,  and  others  following,  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  farther  other  middle 
times  observed  by  devout  people,  who  had  leisure  aud  dispo- 
sition of  mind  thereto  ;  once  between  morning  and  noon,  and 
once  between  noon  and  evening  were  sequestered  to  that  pur- 
pose :  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  impose  on  themselves  the  ob- 
servation of  two  other  times,  one  between  evening  and  midnight, 
the  other  between  midnight  aud  morn.  To  which  practice  those 
places  in  the  Psalms  do  seem  to  allude  :  '  My  mouth  shall 
praise  thee  with  joyful  lips,  when  I  remember  thee  on  my  bed, 
and  meditate  on  thee  in  the  night-watches.'  '  I  prevented  the 
dawning  of  the  morning,  and  cried ;  mine  eyes  prevent  the 
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  clay  will  I  praise  thee, 
because  of  thy  righteous  judgments.'  Which  examples  whoever 
shall  choose  to  follow,  (in  any  measure,)  he  shall  do  wisely 
and  commendably  ;  he  shall  certainly  have  no  cause  to  repent; 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


140 


he  will  find  it  richly  worth  his  while ;  great  benefit  and  com- 
fort 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  offering 
supplications  unto  God  ;  how  much  more  free  and  ready,  more 
careful  and  diligent,  should  we  be  in  this  way  of  practice?  we 
who  have  a  religion  so  far  more  spiritual,  and  exempt  from 
corporeal  incumbrances;  precepts  so  much  more  express  and 
clear ;  so  much  higher  obligations  and  stronger  encourage- 
ments to  this  duty;  whom  God  in  especial  manner  so  gra- 
ciously doth  invite,  so  powerfully  doth  attract  unto  himself  ? 
But  farther, 

VII.  More  especially  this  precept  may  be  supposed  to  exact 
from  us  a  compliance  in  carefully  observing  the  times  of  devo- 
tion ordained  by  public  authority,  or  settled  by  general  cus- 
tom. This  in  a  popular  and  legal  sense  is  doing  a  thing  in- 
desinently,  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,  accom- 
plishing the  service  of  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  temple,  blessing 
and  praising  God  ;'  that  is,  they  constantly  resorted  thither 
at  the  stated  times  of  concourse  for  prayer.  This  good  reason 
also  plainly  doth  injoin  :  for  that  the  neglecting  it  is  not  only 
a  disorderly  behavior  in  a  matter  of  high  consequence ;  a  cri- 
minal disregard  and  disobedience  to  authority;  a  scandalous 
contempt  of  our  neighbors,  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  contri- 
bution of  our  endeavor;  but  a  heinous  affront  to  Almighty 
God,  who  thereby  is  plainly  dishonored,  and  in  a  manner 
openly  disavowed;  a  huge  prejudice  to  religion,  the  credit 
and  power  whereof,  without  visible  profession,  exemplary  com- 
pliance, mutual  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  allegi- 
ance, or  deferring  any  homage  to  him  ;  would  not  those  who 


150 


BARROW. — SERMON  VII. 


should  wilfully  refuse  or  decline  appearance,  be  justly  charge- 
able as  guilty  of  dishonoring  and  wronging  him  ?  would  not 
their  such  defailance  pass  for  sufficient  proof  that  they  do  not 
acknowlege  him,  that  at  least  they  do  not  much  regard  or  value 
him?  So,  by  not  joining  at  stated  times  in  celebration  of  divine 
worship,  we  may  be  well  conceived  wholly  to  disclaim  God,  or 
greatly  to  disesteem  him  ;  to  slight  religion,  as  a  thing  insignifi- 
cant 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  our- 
selves much  to  want  his  protection,  his  guidance,  his  assistance, 
his  favor  and  mercy?  Are  we  not  in  effect  like  to  those  in  Job, 
who  '  say  unto  God,  Depart  from  us ;  for  we  desire  not  the 
knowlege  of  thy  ways  ?  What  is  the  Almighty,  that  we  should 
serve  him  ?  or  what  profit  shall  we  have  if  we  pray  unto  him  V 
Thus  the  standers-by  commonly  (some  so  as  to  be  much  offended 
at,  others  so  as  to  be  corrupted  by  our  bad  example)  will  in- 
terpret this  neglect;  and  so  assuredly  God  himself  will  take  it 
from  us,  and  accordingly  deal  with  us.  As  he  claimeth  this 
public  attendance  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  WTong  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  be- 
fore them  also.'  What  other  measure  indeed  can  we  imagine 
or  expect  to  receive  ?  Will  God,  think  we,  be  so  partial  and 
fond  of  us,  so  disregarded  and  injurious  toward  himself,  that 
he  will  vouchsafe  to  appear  in  favor  to  us,  when  we  deign  not 
to  appear  in  respect  to  him  ?  that  he  will  openly  tender  our 
repute,  when  we  apparently  disregard  his  honor  ?  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 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


l.jl 


we  hope  that  he  will  freely  dispense  prosperous  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  anywise  show 
himself  bountiful  and  merciful  toward  us,  when  we  so  palpably 
are  unjust  and  ingrateful  toward  him  ?  No,  '  surely  he  scorn- 
eth  the  scorners;'  and  '  whosoever  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. 

VIII.  Lastly,  '  praying  incessantly'  may  import  at  large  a 
frequency  in  devotion.  This  the  words  at  least  do  exact  or 
necessarily  imply,  however  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 
much  alms  to  the  people,  and  prayed  to  God  always ;'  and  of 
Anna  the  prophetess,  that  she  '  departed  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  in- 
volve 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  abundant  reason  for,  and  apposite  matter  of, 
devotion  ;  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  fa- 
vors ;  so  should  we  often  render  thanks  and  praise  for  them  : 
for  perpetually  to  receive  courtesies,  and  rarely  to  return  ac- 
knowlegements,  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  punish- 
ment, the  bitter  pangs  of  remorse,  or  the  desperate  hazard  of 
stupid  obduration.    Whatever  we  design  or  undertake,  to- 


102  EATtUOW. — SERMON  VII. 

ward  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  concernments.  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  improvement  of  all  piety.  Devo- 
tion is  that  holy  and  heavenly  tire,  which  darteth  into  our 
minds  the  light  of  spiritual  knowlege,  which  kindleth  in  our 
hearts  the  warmth  of  holy  desires  :  if  therefore  we  do  continue 
long  absent  from  it,  a  night  of  darkness  will  overspread  our 
minds,  a  deadening  coldness  will  seize  on  our  affections.  It  is 
the  best  food  of  our  souls  which  preserveth  their  life  and  health, 
which  repaireth  their  strength  and  vigor,  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  lan- 
guid and  meagre  piety. 

To  maintain  in  us  a  constant  and  steady  disposition  to  obe- 
dience, to  correct  our  perverse  inclinations,  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  communicated  in  devotion, 
as  the  channel  which  conveyeth,  or  the  instrument  which  help- 
eth  to  procure  it,  or  the  condition  on  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  other- 
wise 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  maintaineth  that  friend- 
ship with  God  which  is  the  soul  of  piety.  As  familiar  conver- 
sation (wherein  men  do  express  their  minds  and  affections  mu- 
tually) breedeth  acquaintance,  and  cherisheth  good-will  of 
men  to  one  another  ;  but  long  forbearance  thereof  dissolveth  or 
slackeneth  the  bonds  of  amity,  breaking  their  intimacy,  and 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


158 


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  consequently  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 
favor;  a  coldness,  a  shyness,  a  distaste,  an  antipathy  toward 
him  will  by  degrees  creep  on  us.  Abstinence  from  his  company 
and  presence  will  cast  us  into  conversations  destructive  or  pre- 
judicial to  our  friendship  with  him;  wherein  soon  we  shall  con- 
tract familiarity  and  friendship  with  his  enemies,  (the  world 
and  the  flesh,)  which  are  inconsistent  with  love  to  him,  which 
will  dispose  us  to  forget  him,  or  to  dislike  and  loathe  him. 

It  is,  in  fine,  the  frequency  of  devotion  which  alone  can  se- 
cure 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  on  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  difficulty  and  pain  ; 
which  therefore,  without  much  use  and  exercise,  cannot  be  ac- 
complished, but  with  it  may  ;  so  that  by  frequent  practice,  the 
bent  of  our  heart  being  turned,  the  strangeness  of  the  thing  ceas- 
ing, the  difficulty  of  the  work  being  surmounted,  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  obstacles,  so  particularly  those 
of  fear  and  doubt  in  respect  to  God,  which  may  deter  or  dis- 
courage 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  into  his  presence  we  do  find  that  '  such  as 
his  majesty  is,  such  is  his  mercy  ;'  when  we  do  '  taste  and  see 


154 


BARROW.— SERMON  VII. 


that  the  Lord  is  good  ;'  when  by  experience  we  feel  that  '  in 
his  presence  there  is  fulness  of  joy ;'  being  '  abundantly  satisfied 
with  the  fatness  of  his  house ;'  having  our  souls  there  '  satisfied 
as  with  marrow  and  fatness;'  finding  that  '  a  day  in  his  courts 
is  better  than  a  thousand  '  spent  otherwhere  ;  perceiving  that  he 
biddeth  us  welcome,  that  he  treateth  us  kindly,  that  he  sendeth 
us  away  refreshed  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  longeth,  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  constantly  practising  it ; 
such  as  the  same  holy  person  again  declareth  in  these  words  ; 
'  I  love  the  Lord,  because  he  hath  heard  my  voice  and  my  sup- 
plications :  because  he  hath  inclined  his  ear  unto  me,  therefore 
will  I  call  on  him  as  long  as  I  live.'  Hence,  instead  of  a  sus- 
picious estrangedness,  a  servile  dread,  or  an  hostile  disaffection 
toward  God,  there  will  spring  up  an  humble  confidence,  a  kindly 
reverence,  a  hearty  love  toward  him  ;  which  will  on  all  occa- 
sions drive  us  to  him,  hoping  for  his  friendly  succor,  longing 
after  his  kind  embraces.  So  will  the  frequency  of  devotion  ren- 
der it  facile  and  pleasant.  Whereas,  on  the  contrary,  disuse 
thereof  will  make  it  at  any  time  hard  and  irksome ;  strength- 
ening and  increasing  our  natural  averseness  thereto  :  perform- 
ing it  seldom,  we  shall  never  perform  it  well,  with  that  atten- 
tion, that  affection,  that  promptitude,  that  willingness  and  ala- 
crity, which  are  due  thereto. 

According  to  so  many  senses,  in  so  many  respects,  may  we, 
and  should  we  observe  this  precept.  From  thus  praying  con- 
tinually there  can  be  no  good  exception  or  just  excuse.  The 
most  common  pleas  that  will  be  alleged  for  the  omission  thereof 
are  two ;  one  drawn  from  external  avocations,  the  other  from 
internal  indispositions  obstructing  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 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


i  as 


otherwise  engaged  by  important  affairs.  How  much  a  flam 
this  apology  is  we  shall  presently  descry,  by  asking  a  few 
questions  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  indis- 
pensable than  is  that  of  yielding  due  respect  and  service  to  our 
Maker,  our  great  Patron,  our  most  liberal  Benefactor  ?  Can 
there  be  any  interest  more  close  or  weighty  than  this,  of  pro- 
viding for  our  souls'  eternal  health  and  happiness?  Is  not  this 
indeed  the  great  work,  '  the  only  necessary  matter,'  in  com- 
parison whereto  all  other  occupations  are  mere  trifling,  or 
unprofitable  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  pleasant  intercourse,  and  most  gainful  commerce  with 
heaven?  What  are  the  great  businesses  of  the  world  ?  what 
but  scraping  and  scrambling  for  pelf,  contriving  and  compas- 
sing designs  of  ambition,  courting  the  favor  and  respect  of  men, 
making  provision  for  carnal  pleasure,  gratifying  fond  curiosity 
or  vain  humor?  And  do  any  of  these  deserve  to  be  put  into 
the  scale  against,  shall  all  of  them  together  be  able  to  sway 
down  our  spiritual  employments?  Shall  these  images,  these 
shadows  of  business,  supplant  or  crowd  our  devotion  ;  that 
which  procureth  wealth  inestimably  precious,  pleasure  infi- 
nitely satisfactory,  honor  incomparably  noble  above  all  this 
world  can  afford  ?    If  the  expense  of  time  be,  as  the  philo- 


156 


BARROW. — SERMON  VII. 


sopher  Theophrastus  said,  noXvTeXiaraTov  avuXto/ua,  '  the  most 
precious  expense' that  can  be;  how  can  it  better  be  laid  out  than 
on  the  worthiest  things,  such  as  devotion  alone  can  afford  the 
purchase  and  possession  of?  True  virtue,  sound  wisdom,  a 
quiet  conscience,  and  steady  tranquillity  of  mind,  the  love  and 
favor  of  God,  a  title  unto  endless  joy  and  bliss,  are  purely  the 
gifts  of  Heaven ;  and  thence  they  will  not  descend  of  them- 
selves, 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  pro- 
cure whatever  we  want  ? 

4.  Should  we  not  farther,  honestly  comparing  things,  easily 
discern  that  it  is  no  such  indispensable  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  appoint- 
ment 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  diverteth  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  unscrew  our  affections  from 
sensible  things,  to  reduce  our  wandering  thoughts,  to  compose 
our  hearts  into  a  right  frame,  to  beud  our  untoward  inclina- 
tions to  a  compliance  with  our  duty  ?  Is  it  not  because  we  do 
not  feel  that  favor  and  satisfaction  in  these,  which  we  do  in 
other  trivial  and  worthless  employments,  nor  will  be  at  the 
trouble  to  work  such  dispositions  in  our  souls?  Do  we  not 
betake  ourselves  to  other  conversations  and  commerces  merely 
for  refuge,  shunning  this  intercourse  with  God  and  with  our- 
selves? These,  I  fear,  are  oftener  the  real  causes  of  our  neg- 
lecting devotion,  than  any  such  mighty  avocations  which  we 
pretend. 

6.  But  were  there  indeed  not  only  a  counterfeit  or  imaginary, 
but  a  real  competition  between  devotion  and  other  lawful 
business,  which,  in  reason,  should  carry  it?  in  conscience, 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


L5f 


Which  of  the  two  should  be  forborne  or  suspended  ?  Is  it  not 
evidently  better  that  the  pursuit  of  our  temporal  interests, 
•whatever  they  be,  should  be  a  little  checked,  than  that  our 
affairs  of  everlasting  consequence  should  be  quite  laid  aside  ? 
that  we  should  venture  a  small  impairing  of  our  estate,  than 
surely  endamage  our  souls  ?  that  we  hazard  to  disappoint  or 
displease  a  man,  than  dare  to  affront  and  offend  the  Almighty 
God? 

7.  Were  it  not  strangely  absurd  and  unhandsome  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  I  am 
to  receive  money,  or  to  make  up  a  bargain  ;  I  cannot  dis- 
charge my  duty  to  God,  because  a  greater  obligation  than  that 
doth  lie  on  me  ?  How  unconceivable  an  honor,  how  unvaluable 
a  benefit  is  it,  that  the  incomprehensibly  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  hand  the  supply  of  all  our  needs,  and  satis- 
faction of  all  our  reasonable  desires?  and  is  it  then  just  or 
seemly,  by  such  comparisons  to  disparage  his  favor,  by  such 
pretences  to  bafHe  with  his  goodness  ? 

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  awhile,  at  another  time,  when  we  have  less  to  do,  we  shall 
be  perhaps  disposed  to  wait  on  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  :  '  One  said,  that  he  had 
purchased  land,  and  must  needs  go  out  to  see  it :  another  had 
bought  five  yoke  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 


158  BARROW. — SERMON  VII. 

squander  away  on  our  petty  matters,  on  voluptuous  enjoyments, 
on  fruitless  pastimes,  on  impertinent  talk  ;  how  can  we  satisfy 
ourselves  in  not  alloting  competent  time  for  God's  service,  our 
own  salvation,  and  the  future  everlasting  state  ?  Doth  not  he, 
who,  with  the  continuance  of  our  life,  bestoweth  on  us  all  our 
time,  deserve  that  a  pittance  of  it  should  be  reserved  for  him- 
self? 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  concern- 
ments ? 

9.  Again,  is  it  not  great  imprudence  so  to  lay  our  business, 
that  any  other  matter  shall  thwart  or  thrust  out  devotion  ? 
Easily  with  a  little  providence  may  things  be  so  ordered,  that 
it,  without  interfering  or  justling,  may  well  consist  with  all 
other  both  needful  business,  and  convenient  divertisement ;  so 
that  it  shall  neither  obstruct  them,  nor  they  extrude  it ;  and 
are  we  not  very  culpable,  if  we  do  not  use  so  much  provi- 
dence ?* 

10.  In  truth,  attending  on  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  management  of  them.  For  the  conscience  of  having  ren- 
dered unto  God  his  due  respect  and  service,  of  having  intrusted 
our  affairs  to  his  care,  of  having  consequently  engaged  his  pro- 
tection and  assistance  for  us,  will  dispose  us  to  do  things  with 
a  courageous  alacrity  and  comfortable  satisfaction  ;  will  rill  us 
with  a  good  hope  of  prospering  ;  will  prepare  us  however  to  be 
satisfied  with  the  event,  whatever  it  shall  be  ;  will  in  effect 

*  Tlpurov  ixkv,  airrb  rovro  eyxXrj/uu  ov  nixpbv,  rb  KVKKovcrdu  roffovruv  irpay- 
ixdruv  ir\-t)8et,  Kol  rois  frwriKots  ovtw  irpoirri\£i(r9cu  Sta  vavrbs,  ws  nyfe  fUKpav 
(Is  rh  ramuy  ivayKai6rfpa  Hyav  axo^-yi"- — Chrys.  in  Jot),  i.  14.  (Or.  11.) 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


1 59 


procure  a  blessing  and  happy  success,  such  as  we  may  truly 
rejoice  and  triumph  in,  as  conferred  by  God  in  favor  to  us. 
Whereas  neglecting  these  duties,  we  can  have  no  solid  content 
or  savory  complacence  in  any  thing  we  undertake  :  reflecting 
on  such  misbehavior  (if  we  be  not  downright  infidels,  or  obdurate 
reprobates  in  impiety)  will  quash  or  damp  our  courage  :  having 
thence  forfeited  all  pretence  to  God's  succor,  and  provoked 
him  to  cross  us,  we  must  needs  suspect  disappointment :  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  occa- 
sions, deeming  all  time  cast  away  that  is  laid  out  in  waiting 
on  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  dispatch  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  pru- 
dently and  politicly,  with  so  great  advantage  and  so  real  fruit 
to  ourselves,  as  that  which  is  employed  on  devotion.  In  sacri- 
ficing his  time,  his  pains,  his  substance,  any  thing  he  hath  or 
can  do,  to  God's  service,  no  man  can  be  a  loser. 

We  have  also  many  examples  plainly  demonstrating  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 ;  on  whom  did  lie  the 
burden  of  a  royal  estate,  and  the  care  over  a  most  populous 
nation  ;  the  which  '  he  fed  with  a  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.  '  I  will  bless  the  Lord  at  all  times; 
his  praise  shall  be  continually  in  my  mouth.'  '  My  mouth  shall 
show  forth  thy  righteousness  and  thy  salvation  all  the  day.'  '  I 
will  abide  in  thy  tabernacle  for  ever.'  So  he  declareth  his 
resolution  and  his  practice.    Who  is  more  pressingly  employed 


LGO 


BARROW.— SERMON  VII. 


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  unto  his 
God.'  Who  can  be  more  entangled  in  varieties  and  intricacies 
of  care,  or  pains,  of  trouble,  than  was  he  that  prescribeth  unto 
us  this  rule  of  praying  continually  ?  On  him  did  lie  '  the  care 
of  all  the  churches  ;  night  and  day  with  labour  and  toil  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  labor  and  travail,  ever  conflicting 
with  perils,  with  wants,  with  inconveniences  numberless;  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  Constan- 
tine  ?  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  indus- 
trious in  their  callings,  most  provident  for  their  families,  most 
officious  toward  their  friends,  most  ready  to  serve  their  coun- 
try, 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.  Xo  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  indisposition  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  on  the  practice  of  the 
duty,  and  persisting  resolutely  therein  ;  otherwise  how  is  it 
possible  that  it  should  ever  be  removed  ?  The  longer  we  for- 

*  Kaipois  tKatTTTjs  rmepas  toktoTs  kavrtiv  4yK\e'tuv,  n6vos  p.6v<p  tw  aim?  vptxr- 
un'Aet  ©fiji — Euseb.  de  Vita  Const,  iv.  22. 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAYER. 


161 


bear  it,  the  more  seldom  we  perform  it,  the  stronger  surely  will 
our  indisposition  grow,  and  the  more  difficult  it  will  be  to 
remove  it.  But  it'  (with  any  degree  of  seriousness  and  good 
intention)  we  come  indisposed  to  prayer,  we  may  thereby  be 
formed  into  better  disposition,  and  by  continual  attendance 
thereon,  we  shall  (God's  grace  co-operating,  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. 


VV2 


SUMMARY  OF 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  VIII. 

EPHESIANS,   CHAP.  V. — VERSE  20. 

The  words  of  this  text  may  be  severed  from  the  context, 
and  considered  distinctly  by  themselves.  In  them  we  find  the 
substance  of  a  duty  to  which  we  are  exhorted :  the  object 
or  term  to  which  it  is  directed :  the  time  of  performance, 
and  the  adequate  matter  of  the  duty,  or  how  far  it  should 
extend.  These  particulars  are  considered  severally,  and  in 
order. 

I.  Concerning  the  duty  itself,  to  give  thanks,  or  rather  to 
be  thankful,  as  it  involves  a  respect  to  benefits  received,  so  in 
its  employment  about  them  it  requires  or  supposes  the  follow- 
ing particulars. 

1.  It  implies  a  right  apprehension  of,  and  consequently  a 
considerate  attention  to,  benefits  conferred.  The  method  pre- 
scribed by  the  psalmist,  that  great  master  of  thanksgiving, 
is,  first,  experimental  notice,  then  wise  consideration,  then 
grateful  sense,  then  public  acknowlegement :  this  topic  en- 
larged on. 

2.  It  requires  a  faithful  retention  of  benefits  in  the  me- 
mory, and  consequently  frequent  reflexions  on  them ;  for  he 
that  is  no  longer  affected  by  a  benefit  than  it  affects  the  senses, 
and  suffers  not  itself  to  be  disregarded,  is  very  far  from  being 
grateful.  Instance  of  ingratitude  in  this  respect  shown  by  the 
Jews :  a  contrary  one  by  that  great  pattern  of  gratitude  the 
royal  prophet:  this  subject  enlarged  on. 

3.  This  duty  implies  a  due  esteem  and  valuation  of  bene- 


SERMON  VIII. 


fits;  that  the  nature  and  quality,  the  measure  and  quantity, 
the  circumstances  and  consequences  of  them  be  well  considered; 
else  the  gratitude  is  like  to  be  none,  or  very  defective.  Excel- 
lent example  of  David  in  this  respect.  We  ought  diligently 
to  survey  and  judiciously  to  estimate  the  effects  of  divine  bene- 
ficence, like  those  who  contemplate  some  rare  beauty  or  some 
excellent  picture ;  these  commending  the  exact  proportions, 
those  the  graceful  features,  others  the  lively  colors  discernible 
therein. 

4.  Giving  thanks  imports  that  benefits  be  received  with 
willing  mind,  hearty  sense,  and  vehement  affection  ;  a  cheer- 
ful and  cordial  acceptance  of  them  being,  as  it  were,  the 
life  and  spirit,  the  principal  and  most  essential  ingredient 
of  the  duty.  Dictate  of  the  Stoics  on  this  point,  though  it 
went  for  a  paradox,  was  not  unreasonable  :  the  topic  en- 
larged on. 

5.  This  duty  farther  requires  due  acknowlegement  of  our 
obligation,  significations  of  our  notice,  declarations  of  our 
esteem,  and  good  acceptance  of  favors  conferred.  The  most 
detestable  ingratitude  is  that  which  proceeds  from  pride  and 
scorn  ;  and  such  is  he  guilty  of,  who  is  unwilling  or  ashamed 
to  confess  himself  obliged  ;  who  purposely  dissembles  a  benefit, 
or  disavows  the  benefactor.  Surely  the  least  homage  we  can 
pay  to  Almighty  God,  is  to  avow  our  dependence  on  him  for 
the  good  things  we  enjoy,  and  to  proclaim  to  the  world  our 
experience  of  Lis  goodness.  Example  of  the  psalmist.  If  a 
grateful  affection  lives  in  our  hearts,  it  will  respire  through 
our  mouths.  Gratitude  is  of  a  fruitful  and  diffusive  nature, 
free  and  communicative  ;  its  best  instrument  therefore  is 
speech :  we  may  also  consider  that  it  has  been  the  manner 
prompted  by  nature,  and  authorised  by  general  practice,  by 
men  of  all  nations  and  all  times,  to  express  their  gratitude  for 
the  gifts  of  Providence  by  composed  hymns  and  panegyrical 
eulogies. 


161 


SUMMARY  OF 


6.  Moreover,  this  duty  requires  endeavors  after  real  com- 
pensation, and  a  satisfactory  requital  of  benefits,  according  to 
the  ability  and  opportunity  of  the  receiver.  It  is  true  our 
righteousness  (or  beneficence)  doth  not  extend  unto  God:  his 
benefits  exceed  all  possibility  of  a  proportionable  requital. 
We  cannot  enrich  him  with  our  gifts,  nor  advance  him  by  our 
commendations ;  but  we  may  by  apposite  significations  declare 
our  willingness  to  serve  him  ;  by  our  demeanour  we  may  please 
him ;  by  our  charity  to  those  whose  good  he  tenders,  we  may 
yield  an  acceptable,  though  not  an  adequate  return  to  his  bene- 
fits. We  may  also  acknowlege  his  rightful  title  to  all  that  he 
bestows  on  us,  by  expressions  of  our  fealty,  and  by  payment  of 
some  though  an  inconsiderable  quit-rent  for  the  possessions 
derived  from  him.  Thou  shalt  not  appear  empty  before  the 
Lord,  was  a  statute  prescribed  to  the  Jews.  [Neither  did  the 
Gentiles  conceive  themselves  exempted  from  the  like  obliga- 
tion :  and  though  we  are  now  freed  perhaps  from  the  circum- 
stantial manner,  yet  in  nowise  are  we  freed  from  the  substan- 
tial performance  of  this  sort  of  gratitude.  Especially  our  cha- 
rity and  beneficence  towards  good  men  his  servants,  our  succor 
and  help  to  persons  in  distress,  are  accounted  by  God  a 
suitable  return  for  his  kindness. 

7.  Lastly,  true  gratitude  for  benefits  is  always  attended 
with  the  esteem,  veneration,  and  love  of  the  benefactor.  Be- 
neficence is  a  royal  and  godlike  thing,  an  argument  of  eminent 
goodness  and  power  conspiring  together  :  and  necessarily  there- 
fore as  in  them  that  perceive  and  duly  consider  it,  it  begets  re- 
spect and  reverence  ;  so  peculiarly  in  those  that  feel  its  benign 
influence,  it  produces  love  and  affection,  engaging  them  in 
mutual  correspondence  to  an  extraordinary  esteem  and  bene- 
volence.   Example  of  David. 

II.  The  nature  and  substance  of  this  duty  having  been  ex- 
plained, the  object  and  term  to  which  it  is  to  be  directed,  next 
calls  our  attention. 


SERMON  VIII. 


165 


We  are  to  give  thanks  to  God  :  to  him  unto  whom  we  are 
obliged,  not  for  some  small  inconsiderable  trifles,  but  for  the 
most  weighty  and  valuable  benefits :  to  him  who  is  the  Lord 
and  true  owner  of  all  things  which  we  partake  of :  to  him  who 
hath  created  a  world  to  serve  us,  and  hath  made  all  extrin- 
sical things  subservient  to  souls  endued  with  various  senses, 
faculties,  and  powers :  to  him  who  hath  inspired  us  with  im- 
mortal mind,  and  impressed  on  them  perspicuous  characters  of 
his  own  divine  essence  :  to  him  who  vouchsafes  to  grant  us  a 
free  access  unto,  a  constant  intercourse  with,  himself ;  who 
invites  us  to  a  spiritual  feast,  and  styles  us  friends  and  children. 
Is  there  any  thing  more  than  this  ?  Yes  :  to  him,  who,  that  he 
might  redeem  us  from  misery  and  advance  our  estate,  conde- 
scended to  debase  himself  and  eclipse  the  brightness  of  his 
glorious  majesty ;  who  not  only  thus  descended,  but  designed 
thereby  to  exalt  us  to  a  participation  of  his  royal  dignity  :  to 
him  who  did  all  this  without  any  necessity,  most  willingly, 
and  who  out  of  pure  bounty  is  our  friend  and  benefactor  ;  pre- 
venting not  only  our  desires,  but  our  knowlege ;  surpassing 
not  our  deserts  only,  but  our  wishes :  to  him  who  did  not 
lately  begin,  and  will  not  suddenly  cease  ;  who  is  neither  un- 
certain nor  mutable  in  his  intentions  :  to  him  whom  no  ingra- 
titude or  disobedience  of  ours  can  divert  from  his  steady  purpose ; 
who  is  as  merciful  and  gracious  as  he  is  liberal  and  munificent; 
not  only  bestowing  on  us  innumerable  gifts,  but  pardoning  our 
innumerable  offences  :  to  him,  who,  as  St.  James  saith,  giveth 
freely  and  upbraideth  no  man,  exacting  no  impossible  or  bur- 
thensonie  returns  to  him,  whose  benefits  to  acknowlege  is  the 
greatest  benefit  of  all,  to  celebrate  whose  praise  is  the  supreme 
degree  of  felicity :  in  a  word,  to  him  whose  benefits  are  im- 
mensely great,  innumerably  many,  inexpressibly  good  and 
precious.  To  this  God,  to  this  great,  this  only  benefactor,  we 
owe  this  most  natural  and  easy,  this  most  just  and  equal,  this 


100 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  VIII. 


most  sweet  and  pleasant  duty  of  giving  thanks  ;  which  if  we 
wilfully  refuse  or  carelessly  neglect  to  pay,  we  are  not  only 
monstrously  ungrateful  and  wicked,  but  deplorably  foolish  and 
miserable.  The  time  determined  in  the  word  always  is  reserved 
for  the  next  discourse. 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


107 


SERMON  VIII. 

THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


EPHESIANS,  CHAP.  V.— VERSE  20. 
Giving  thanks  always  for  all  things  unto  God. 

These  words,  although  (as  the  very  syntax  doth  immediately 
discover)  they  bear  a  relation  to,  and  have  a  fit  coherence  with 
those  that  precede,  may  yet,  (especially  considering  St.  Paul's 
style  and  manner  of  expression  in  the  preceptive  and  exhorta- 
tive part  of  his  epistles,)  without  any  violence  or  prejudice  on 
either  hand,  be  severed  from  the  context,  and  considered  dis- 
tinctly by  themselves.  And  (to  avoid  incumbrance  by  farther 
comparison)  so  taking  them  we  may  observe  that  every  single 
word  among  them  carries  with  it  something  of  notable  emphasis 
and  especial  significancy.  The  first  ['  giving  thanks ']  expresses 
the  substance  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']  de- 
termines the  main  circumstance  of  this  and  all  other  duties,  the 
time  of  performance.  The  last  ['  for  all  things ']  declares  the 
adequate  matter  of  the  duty,  and  how  far  it  should  extend. 
These  particulars  I  shall  consider  severally  and  in  order. 

I.  First  then,  concerning  the  duty  itself,  '  to  give  thanks,' 
or  rather, '  to  be  thankful  ;'  (for  evxnpioreiv  doth  not  only  signify 
gratias  agere,  reddtre,  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 


1@8 


BARROW. — SERMON  VIII. 


consider  it,  as  including  the  whole  duty  or  virtue  of  gratitude 
due  to  Almighty  God  for  all  his  benefits,  favors,  and  mercies ;) 
I  say,  concerning  this  duty  itself,  (abstractedly  considered,)  as 
it  involves  a  respect  to  benefits  or  good  things  received  ;  so  in  it- 
employment  about  them  it  imports,  requires,  or  supposes  these 
following  particulars. 

1.  It  implies  a  right  apprehension  of,  and  consequently  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  loving-kindness  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.'  '  0  taste 
(first,  and  then)  see  that  the  Lord  is  good.' 

This  is  the  method  that  great  master  of  thanksgiving  pre- 
scribes ;  first  experimental  notice,  then  wise  consideration,  then 
grateful  sense,  then  public  acknowlegement.  And  those  we 
find  both  by  him  and  by  the  Prophet  Isaias  (in  the  very  same 
words)  reprehended  as  wickedly  ingrateful  persons,  who  *  re- 
garded not  the  work  of  the  Lord,  nor  considered  the  operation 
of  his  hands.'  'Tis  part  therefore  of  this  duty  incumbent  on 
us,  to  take  notice  of  diligently  and  carefully  to  consider  the 
divine  benefits  ;  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  favors  of  God,  (like  the  ordinary 
phenomena  of  nature,  which,  as  Aristotle  observes,  though  in 
themselves  most  admirable,  are  yet  least  admired,)  the  constant 
rising  of  the  sun  on  us,  the  descent  of  fruitful  showers,  the  re- 
course of  temperate  seasons,  the  continuance  of  our  life,  the 
enjoyment  of  health,  the  providential  dispensation  of  wealth, 
and  competent  means  of  livelihood,  the  daily  protection  from 
incident  dangers,  the  helps  of  improving  knowlege,  obtaining 
virtue,  becoming  happy,  and  such  like  most  excellent  benefits, 
we  commonly  little  mind  or  regard,  and  consequently  seldom 
return  the  thanks  due  for  them.    Possibly  some  rare  accidents 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


168 


of  providence,  some  extraordinary  judgment,  some  miraculous 
deliverance,  may  rouse  and  awaken  our  attention  :  (as  it  is  said 
of  the  Israelites,  '  when  he  slew  them,  then  they  sought  him — 
and  remembered  that  God  was  their  rock,  and  the  high  God 
their  Redeemer  :')  but  such  advertency  is  not  the  effect  so  much 
of  gratitude  as  of  curiosity  or  of  necessity  :  the  notable  rarity 
invites,  or  some  powerful  impulse  commands  our  notice.  But 
the  truly  grateful  industriously  design,  and  are  studious  to  know 
throughly  their  obligations,  that  they  may  be  able  to  render 
answerable  returns  for  them. 

"2.  This  duty  requires  a  faithful  retention  of  benefits  in  me- 
mory, and  consequently  frequent  reflexions  on  them.  For  he 
that  is  no  longer  affected  with  a  benefit  than  it  incurs  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.  For,  ingratus  est,  saith  he, 
(Seneca,)  qui  beneficium  accepisse  se  negat,  quod  accepil ;  ingra- 
tus est,  qui  dissimulat ;  ingratus,  qui  non  reddit :  ingralissimus 
omnium,  qui  oblitus  est.  '  He  that  falsely  denies  the  recep- 
tion of  a  benefit,  and  he  that  dissembles  it,  and  he  that  doth 
not  repay  it,  is  ingrateful ;  but  most  ingrateful  of  all  is  he  that 
forgets  it.'  It  is  a  sign  the  benefit  made  no  deep  impression  on 
his  mind,  since  it  left  no  discernible  footstep  there ;  that  he 
hardly  ever  thought  of  making  recompense,  since  he  hath  suf- 
fered himself  to  become  altogether  uncapable  of  doing  it :  nei- 
ther 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  deserved  the  title  of 
gratitude,  all  men  certainly  would  be  grateful :  the  Jews  ques- 
tionless were  so.  When  Almighty  God,  by  his  wonderful 
power  in  extraordinary  ways,  delivered  them  from  the  tyranny 
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  de- 
sires ;  then  surely  they  were  not  altogether  unsensible  of  the 
divine  goodness ;  then  could  they  acknowlege  his  power,  and 

BAR.  VOL.  I.  H 


170 


BARROW. — SERMON  VIII. 


be  forward  enough  to  engage  themselves  in  promises  of  corre- 
spondent observance  toward  him  for  the  future.  But  the  mis- 
chief was,  immediately  after,  as  the  psalmist  complains,  '  tbey 
forgat  his  works,  and  the  wonders  he  had  showed  them  :'  '  they 
remembered  not  his  hand,  nor  the  day  when  he  delivered  them 
from  the  enemy.'  They  •  refused  to  obey,  neither  were  mindful 
of  the  wonders  that  God  did  among  them,'  as  Nehemiah  con- 
fesses in  their  behalf.  '  Of  the  rock  that  begat  them  they  were 
unmindful,  and  forgot  the  God  that  formed  them,'  as  it  is  in 
Deuteronomy.  They  distrusted  his  promises,  repined  at  his 
dealings,  disobeyed  his  laws,  and  treacherously  apostatised 
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  gratitude,  the 
royal  prophet  David,  continually  revolving  in  his  thoughts, 
imprinting  on  his  fancy,  studying  and  meditating  on,  recollect- 
ing and  renewing  in  his  memory,  the  results  of  divine  favor. 
'  I  will  remember,'  saith  he,  '  thy  wonders  of  old  ;  I  will  medi- 
tate of  all  thy  works,  and  talk  of  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  on  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  practice  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  thrust  them 
out  thence. 

It  was  a  satirical  answer,  (that  of  Aristotle,)  and  highly 
opprobrious  to  mankind;  who,  being  asked,  Tt  ra-^iornv  yr)- 
'  What  doth  the  soonest  grow  old  ?'  replied,  Xapis, 
'  Thanks :'  and  so  was  that  adagial  verse,  "Afi  j)\ei?ra«,  nal 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


171 


TedvrjKev  fi  x"Pts'  '  sooner  ihe  courtesy  born,  than  the  re- 
sentment thereof  dead.'  Such  reproachful  aphorisms  we  should 
labor  to  confute,  especially  as  they  are  applicable  to  the  divine 
favors,  by  so  maintaining  and  cherishing-  our  thanks  for  them, 
that  they  neither  decay  with  age,  nor  prematurely  die,  nor  be 
buried  in  oblivion ;  but  may  resemble  the  pictures  and  poetical 
descriptions  of  the  Graces,  those  goodly  daughters  of  heaven, 
smiling  always  with  a  never-fading  serenity  of  countenance, 
and  florishing  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  statues  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  representations 
of,  and  lasting  memorials  unto,  the  divine  bounty ;  constantly 
attending  to  which  we  may  be  disposed  to  gratitude.  Not  one 
blessing,  not  the  least  favorable  passage  of  providence  ought  to 
perish  with  us,  though  long  since  past,  and  removed  out  of  the 
sphere  of  present  sense. 

We  must  not  in  our  old  age  forget  who  formed  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  manhood  through  the  manifold  hazards,  troubles, 
and  disasters  of  life.  Nor  in  our  prosperity,  our  affluence  of 
good  things,  our  possession  of  Canaan,  should  we  be  unmindful 
of  him  who  relieved  us  in  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  the  old)  supplant  and  expunge  an- 
cient 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  cloth  gold  and  wine,  more  precious  and  more 
strong.  We  have  usually  a  memory  more  than  enough  tena- 
cious of  injuries  and  ill  turns  done  to  us  :  let  it  never  be  said, 


L72 


BARROW. — SERMON  VIII. 


to  the  disgrace  of  that  noble  faculty,  that  we  can  hardly  forget 
the  discourtesies  of  man,  but  not  easily  remember  the  favors  of 
God.    But  farther, 

3.  This  duty  implies  a  due  esteem  and  valuation  of  benefits  ; 
that  the  nature  and  quality,  the  measure  and  quantity,  the  cir- 
cumstances and  consequences  of  them  be  well  expended  ;  else 
the  gratitude  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. 

\\  herefore  we  find  our  (never-to-be-forgotten)  example,  the 
devout  thanksgiver,  David,  continually  declaring  the  great 
price  he  set  on  the  divine  favors ;  admiring  and  displaying  their 
transcendent  perfections,  their  wonderful  greatness,  their  bound- 
less extension,  their  excessive  multitude,  their  endless  duration, 
their  advantageous  circumstances,  (the  excellent  needfulness, 
convenience,  and  seasonableness  of  them  ;  together  with  the 
admirable  freeness,  wisdom,  and  power  of  the  Benefactor, 
shilling  forth  in  and  by  them.)  '  I  will  praise  thee,  O  Lord,' 
saith  he,  '  among  the  people,  I  will  sing  unto  thee  among  the 
nations :  for  thy  mercy  is  great  unto  the  heavens,  and  thy 
faithfulness  reacheth  unto  the  clouds.'  And,  '  Remember 
the  marvellous  works  that  he  hath  done,  his  wonders,  and  the 
judgments  of  his  mouth.'  '  He  is  the  Lord  our  God,  his  judg- 
ments are  in  all  the  earth.'  And  again,  '  Thy  mercy,  O  Lord, 
is  in  the  heavens,  thy  faithfulness  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  is  thy  loving- kindness,  O  God  !'  and,  '  How- 
precious  are  thy  thoughts  unto  me,  O  Lord  !  O  how  great  is 
the  sum  of  them  !  If  I  should  count  them,  they  are  more  in 
number  than  the  sand.'  And  again,  '  His  work  is  honorable 
and  glorious,  his  righteousness  endureth  for  ever  :'  and,  '  The 
Lord  is  good  to  all,  and  his  tender  mercies  are  over  all  his 
works:'  and,  '  Blessed  be  the  Lord,  who  daily  loadeth  us  with 
his  benefits.' 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


173 


In  such  manner  ought  we  diligently  to  survey  and  judici- 
ously to  estimate  the  effects  of  divine  beneficence,  examining 
every  part,  and  descanting  on  every  circumstance  thereof : 
like  those  that  contemplate  some  rare  beauty,  or  some  excel- 
lent picture;  some  commending  the  exact  proportions,  some 
the  graceful  features,  some  the  lively  colors  discernible  therein. 
There  is  not  the  least  of  the  divine  favors,  which,  if  we  consi- 
der the  condescensive  tenderness,  the  clear  intention,  the  unde- 
served frankness,  the  cheerful  debonairity  expressed  therein, 
hath  not  dimensions  larger  than  our  comprehension,  colors  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 
on  any  of  God's  benefits :  (for  to  value  them  seems  to  under- 
value them,  they  being  really  inestimable  :)  what  then  is  it  to 
extenuate,  to  vilify,  to  despise  the  greatest?  We  should  esteem 
them,  as  we  measure  the  heavens  with  our  eye,  as  we  compute 
the  sands  on  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  con- 
ceive, and  of  our  speech  to  utter  ;  that  they  are  immense, 
innumerable,  unconceivable,  and  unexpressible.    But  still, 

4.  '  Giving  thanks'  imports  that  benefits  be  received  with  a 
willing  mind,  a  hearty  sense,  a  vehement  affection.  The  fore- 
mentioned  particulars  are  indeed  necessary  properties,  insepa- 
rable concomitants,  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  ingre- 
dient of  this  duty. 

It  was  not  altogether  unreasonable,  though  it  went  for  a 
paradox,  that  dictate  of  the  Stoics,  that  animus  sufficit  animo, 
and,  that  qui  libenter  accepit,  bencficium  reddidit:  that  he, 
who  with  a  willing  and  well  affected  mind  receives  a  courtesy, 
hath  fully  discharged  the  duty  of  gratitude  ;  that  other  endea- 
vors of  return  and  compensation  are  rather  handsome  accessions 
to  it,  than  indispensably  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  be- 


174 


BARROW. — SERMON  VIII. 


nevolent  intention  of  him  that  bestows  them  ;  so  reciprocally 
it  is  the  good  acceptance,  the  sensibleness  of  and  acquiescence 
in  the  benefactor's  goodness,  that  constitutes  the  gratitude  ; 
which  who  affords,  though  he  be  never  capable  of  yielding 
other  satisfaction,  voluntate  voluntati  satisfecil ;  and,  regum 
aquavit  opes  animo — .  It  is  ingenuity  that  constitutes  (respec- 
tively) both  a  bountiful  giver  and  a  thankful  receiver.  A  truly 
noble  benefactor  purely  aimeth  at  not  any  material  reward,  or 
advantage  to  himself ;  (it  were  trading  this,  not  beneficence;) 
but  the  good  profit  and  content  of  him,  to  whom  he  dispenseth 
his  favor  :  of  which  being  assured,  he  rests  satisfied,  and  ac- 
counts himself  royally  recompensed.* 

Such  a  benefactor  is  Almighty  God,  and  such  a  tribute  he 
requires  of  us  ;  a  ready  embracement  of  and  a  joyful  compla- 
cency in  his  kindness ;  even  such  as  he  expressed,  who  said, 
'  Because  thy  loving-kindness  is  better  than  life,  my  lips  shall 
praise  thee :'  and,  '  My  soul  shall  be  filled  as  with  marrow  and 
fatness,  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  the  sense  of  his  goodness.  He  loves  not  only  l\apdv  Sorjjj- 
(a  merry  giver,)  but  iXapov  heicrrtv  (a  cheerful  receiver)  also. 
He  would  have  us,  as  to  desire  his  favor  with  a  greedy  appetite, 
so  to  taste  it  with  a  savory  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  dis- 
dain, 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  on  them, 
and  slew  the  fattest  of  them.'    Yea,  'tis  our  duty  not  to  be 

*  Quoties  quod  proposuit  quis  consequitur,  capit  operis  sui  fruc- 
tum.  Qui  beneficium  dat,  quid  proponit  sibi?  prodesse  ei  cui  dat, 
et  sibi  voluptati  esse  :  non  sibi  invicem  reddi  voluit ;  aut  non  fuit 
beneficium,  sed  negotiatio.  Beneficii  proprium  est,  nihil  de  reditu 
cogitare. — Senec. 

Nec  est  dubium  quin  is  qui  liberalis  benignusque  dicitur,  officiura, 
non  fructum,  sequatur. — Cic.  de  Leg.  i. 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


17-3 


contented  only,  but  to  be  delighted,  to  be  transported,  to 
be  ravished  with  the  emanations  of  his  love  :  to  enter- 
tain theni  with  such  a  disposition  of  mind,  as  the  dry  and 
parched  ground  imbibes  the  soft  dew  and  gentle  showers  ;  as 
the  chill  and  darksome  air  admits  the  benigu  influences  of  hea- 
venly light ;  as  the  thirsty  soul  takes  in  the  sweet  and  cooling 
stream.  11c  that  with  a  sullen  look,  a  dead  heart,  a  faint 
sense,  a  cold  hand,  embraces  the  gifts  of  heaven,  is  really  un- 
thankful, though  with  deluges  of  wine  and  oil  he  makes  the 
altars  to  overflow,  and  clouds  the  sky  with  the  steam  of  his  sa- 
crifices.   But  yet,  farther, 

5.  This  duty  requires  due  acknowlegement  of  our  obliga- 
tion, significations  of  our  notice,  declarations  of  our  esteem  and 
good  acceptance  of  favors  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  a  benefactor ;  who  refuses  to  render  those  most  ma- 
nifestly due,  and  most*  easily  discharged,  those  neither  toilsome 
nor  expensive  oblations  of  praise  and  acknowlegement.  This  part 
of  our  duty  requires  that  we  offer  to  God,  not  costly  hecatombs, 
but  the  '  calves'  only  'of  our  lips, '(as  the  prophet  Hosea  speaks;) 
not  the  fruit  of  our  lands,  but  Kapirbv  xe«Xeuif  only,  (as  the 
Apostle  to  the  Hebrews  styles  it,)  '  the  fruit  of  our  lips,  con- 
fessing to  his  name ;'  that  we  employ  some  few  blasts  of  the 
breath  he  gave  us  on  the  celebration  of  his  goodness,  and  ad- 
vancement of  his  repute.  '  I  will  praise  the  name  of  God  with 
a  song,  and  will  magnify  him  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  gratitude  owe,  and 
can  pay  to  Almighty  God,  to  avow  our  dependence  on  an  ob- 
ligation to  him  for  the  good  things  we  enjoy,  to  acknowlege 
that  his  favors  do  deserve  thanks,  to  publish  to  the  world  our 
experience  of  his  goodness,  to  proclaim  solemnly  with  the 
voice  of  thanksgiving  his  most  deserved   praise;  resembling 

*  Ou5e  yap  fiapu  ti  leal  iiraxBhs  4m$rjrei  Trap'  rip-uv,  a\\'  tj  rh  bjioXoyCv  /x6- 
pov  ras  rocrairas  evepyea'tas,  K«l  ras  VTrcp  roxnuv  b.vtw  euxapicrr/as  b.va<p4ptiv. — 

Chrys.  torn.  i.  54. 


176  BARROW. — SERMON  VIII. 

him  who  abounds  in  such  expressions  as  these  :  '  1  will  sing  of 
the  mercies  of  the  Lord  for  ever;  with  my  mouth  will  I  make 
known  his  faithfulness  to  all  generations.'  '  I  will  publish  with 
the  voice  of  thanksgiving,  and  tell  of  all  his  wondrous  works.' 
'  I  will  speak  of  the  glorious  honor  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 
concealed  thy  loving-kindness  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  conspiracy  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  numberless  company  of  all  the  crea- 
tures, 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  Benefactor. 

Gratitude  is  of  a  fruitful  and  diffusive  nature,  of  a  free  and 
communicative  disposition,  of  an  open  and  sociable  temper:  it 
will  be  imparting,  discovering,  and  propagating  itself :  it  affects 
light,  company,  and  liberty ;  it  cannot  endure  to  be  smothered 
in  privacy  and  obscurity.  Its  best  instrument  therefore  is 
speech,  that  most  natural,  proper,  and  easy  mean  of  conversa- 
tion, of  signifying  our  conceptions,  of  conveying,  and  as  it  were 
transfunding  our  thoughts  and  passions  into  each  other.*  This 
therefore  glory  of  ours,  and  best  organ  that  we  have,  (as  the 
psalmist  seems  to  call  it,)  our  tongue,  we  should  in  all  reason 
devote  to  the  honor,  and  consecrate  to  the  praise  of  him  who 
made  it,  and  who  conserves  it  still  in  tune. 

And,  the  farther  to  provoke  us,  we  may  consider  that  it 

*  Yuxb  "yap,  olixai,  tyvx?  xat  irveiym  TrvevfiaTi  owairrSneva  Kara  TtJp  tou  \6- 
you  airopav,  kc. — Clem.  Alex.  Strom,  i.  p.  270. 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


177 


hath  been  the  manner  prompted  by  nature,  and  authorised  by 
general  practice,  for  men  of  all  nations,  and  all  times,  and  all 
ways,  by  composed  hymns  and  panegyrical  elogies,  to  express 
their  gratitude  for  the  gifts  of  nature,  and  for  the  benefits  in- 
dulged by  Providence;  in  their  public  sacrifices  and  solemn 
festivities  extolling  the  excellent  qualities  of  their  imaginary 
deities,  and  reciting  the  famous  achievements  of  their  heroes 
and  supposed  benefactors  :  to  whose  favorable  help  and  bles- 
sing, in  their  conceit,  they  owed  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  the 
comforts  of  life,  the  defence  and  patronage  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  them  for  the  other. 
For,  certainly,  acknowlegements  of  the  divine  goodness,  and 
solemn  testifications  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, 

G.  This  duty  requires  endeavors  of  real  compensation,  and 
a  satisfactory  requital  of  benefits,  according  to  the  ability 
and  opportunity  of  the  receiver  :  that  we  do  not  only  verbally 
dicere,  and  agnoscere  ;  but  really  agere,  and  referre  grutias  : 
that  to  him,  who  hath  by  his  beneficence  obliged  us,  we  mi- 
nister reciprocal  assistance,  comfort,  and  relief,  if  he  need 
them,  and  be  capable  to  receive  them ;  however,  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, 
'  as  the  earth  which  drinketh  the  rain  often  coming  on  it,'  and 
having  been  by  great  labor  tilled  and  manured  with  expense, 
yieldeth  yet  no  '  meet  herbage'  or  '  fruit  agreeable  to  the  ex- 
pectation of  him  that  dresseth  it,'  but  is  either  wholly  barren, 
or  produceth  only  '  thorns  and  briars,'  is  (as  the  Apostle  to 
the  Hebrews  tells  us)  '  to  be  reprobated,  and  nigh  unto  curs- 
ing ;'  that  is,  deserves  no  farther  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,) 


178 


BARROW.— SERMON  VIII. 


who,  daily  partaking  the  influences  of  divine  providence  and 
bounty,  affords  no  answerable  return,  to  be  accounted  exe- 
crably unthankful,  and  unworthy  of  any  farther  favor  to  be 
showed  toward  him. 

Tis  true,  our  '  righteousness'  (or  '  beneficence,'  so  the  word 
there  signifies)  '  doth  not  extend  unto  God  :'  his  benefits  ex- 
ceed all  possibility  of  any  proportionable  requital  :  he  doth  not 
need,  nor  can  ever  immediately  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  commendations,  who  already  enjoyeth  the  supreme 
pitch  of  glory ;  nor  any  way  contribute  to  his  in  itself  complete 
and  indefectible  beatitude.  Yet  we  may  by  apposite  signifi- 
cations declare  our  willingness  to  serve  and  exalt  him  :  we 
may  by  our  obsequious  demeanor  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  ac- 
ceptable return  to  his  benefits.  '  AVhat  shall  I  render  unto  the 
Lord  fofall  his  benefits?'  saith  David,  in  way  of  counsel  and 
deliberation  :  and  thereon  resolves,  '  I  will  take  the  cup  of 
salvation,  and  call  on  the  name  of  the  Lord:  I  will  pay  my 
vows  unto  the  Lord.'  Seasonable  benedictions,  officious  ad- 
dresses, 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, 
'  Honor  the  Lord  with  thy  substance,  and  with  the  first-fruits 
of  thy  increase.' 

Almighty  God,  though  he  really  doth,  and  cannot  otherwise 
do,  yet  will  not  seem  to  bestow  his  favors  altogether  gratis, 
but  to  expect  some  competent  return,  some  small  use  and 
income  from  them.  He  will  assert  his  rightful  title,  and  be 
acknowleged  the  chief  proprietary,  by  signal  expressions  of  our 
fealty,  and  the  payment  of  some  though  inconsiderable  quit- 
rent,  for  our  possessions  derived  from  him  :  he  will  rather 
himself  be  seemingly  indigent,  than  permit  us  to  be  really  in- 
grateful.  For  knowing  well  that  our  performance  of  duty  and 
respect  toward  him  greatly  conduceth  to  our  comfort  and  hap- 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


L70 


piness,*  he  requireth  of  us  such  demonstrations  of  them,  as  we 
conveniently  are  able  to  exhibit ;  he  appoints  services  expres- 
sive of  thankfulness,  exacts  tributes  and  customs,  demands 
loans  and  benevolences,  encourages  and  accepts  free-will 
offerings  from  us.  '  Thou  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  in- 
crease, 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  aKpodivta,  the  '  top'  or  '  chief  of  their 
corn  heaps,'  they  were  wont  to  consecrate  unto  him  who  had 
blessed  their  fields  with  increase;  and  the  ckpoXem,  'the  first 
and  best  of  the  prey,'  they  dedicated  to  the  adornment  of  his 
temple  by  whose  favorable  disposal  they  had  obtained  the 
victory.  Neither  would  they  sooner  begin  their  meal,  and 
partake  of  their  necessary  refreshment,  than,  by  pouring  forth 
their  gratulatory  libation,  they  had  performed  some  homage  to 
heaven  for  it. 

 OuSe  TiS  €TA.7J 

Tlplv  wieW,  xpli/  A.en|/tu  virtpiisviX  KpoviWi,t 

was  the  custom,  it  seems,  in  Homer's  time.  I  shall  not  insist 
on  their  ivdOfifiara,  then  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 
intelligent  of  them)  were  not  so  senseless  as  to  imagine  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, 
significant  means  they  could  invent,  to  declare  their  grateful 
sense  of  the  divine  goodness  and  indulgence  toward  them.; 

*  'hiehparos  yap  avrov  r/  ouala  «ai  iv(vSe)s  ovaa,  ouSecbs  hipov  Trpoaourai' 
ol  tie  alvovvres  avrbv,  aurol  Aafiirporepui  ylvovTai. — S.  Cbrys.  in  Ps.  cxliv. 
p.  885.  Savil. 

t  Horn.  II.  H.  ad  (inem. 

t  Vid.  Platonis  Alcib.  ii.  Ou  yap,  oi/nai,  toiovt6v  tori  rb  tw  Otuv,  Hare 
virb  Stipwv  trapayeadai,  ohv  Kanbv  roKiar^v,  &c. 


180 


BARROW. — SERMON  VIII. 


And  though  we  are,  perhaps,  disobliged  now  from  the  cir- 
cumstantial manner,  yet  are  we  no  wise  freed  from  (but  rather 
more  strongly  engaged  to)  the  substantial  performance  of  this 
sort  of  gratitude.  We  are  to  offer  still,  not  dead  '  bulls  and 
goats,'  but,  as  St.  Paul  saith,  '  our  own  bodies,  living  sacri- 
fices, holy  and  acceptable  to  God.'  We  are  excused  from 
material,  but  are  yet  bound  to  yield  rmyiancM  dvaias,  '  spi- 
ritual sacrifices'  unto  God,  as  St.  Peter  tells  us.  We  must 
burn  incense  still,  that  of  fervent  devotion  ;  and  send  up  con- 
tinually to  heaven  Bvilav  rijs  ahetrews,  that  '  thank-offering  of 
praise,'  which  the  Apostle  to  the  Hebrews  mentions.  We 
must  consecrate  the  first-born  of  our  souls,  (pure  and  holy 
thoughts,)  and  the  first-fruits  of  our  strength,  (our  most  active 
endeavors,)  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  intirely  to  his  disposal.  We  must  vow  to  him,  and  pay 
the  daily  oblation  of  sincere  obedience.  We  must  officiously 
attend  his  pleasure,  and  labor  to  content  him  by  an  innocent 
and  unblemished  conversation.  With  these  things  Almighty 
God  is  effectually  gratified  ;  he  approves  of  and  accepts  these, 
as  real  testimonies  of  our  thankfulness,  and  competent  returns 
of  his  benefits. 

Especially  our  charity  and  beneficence,  our  exhibiting  love 
and  respect  to  good  men,  (his  faithful  servants  and  near  rela- 
tions,) our  affording  help  and  succor  to  persons  in  need  and  dis- 
tress, he  accounts  a  suitable  retaliation  of  his  kindness,  acknow- 
leges  to  be  an  obligation  laid  on  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  labor  of  love,  which  ye  have  showed  toward  his  name,  in 
that  ve  have  ministered  to  the  saints,  and  do  minister :'  and, 
1  To  do  good  and  to  communicate,  forget  not ;  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 
Epaphroditus  the  things  which  were  sent  from  you,  an  odor  of 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


181 


a  sweet  smell,  a  sacrifice  acceptable,  well  pleasing  to  God.' 
And,  '  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  to  (that  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  show  unto  good  and 
needy  men,  God  reckons  it  done  unto  himself. 

And  this  point  I  shall  conclude  with  the  sayings  of  the  wise 
Hebrew  philosopher  Ben-Sirach,  '  He  that  keepeth  the  law, 
bringeth  offerings  enough  :  He  that  taketh  heed  to  the  com- 
mandment, offereth  a  peace-offering.  He  that  requiteth  a  good 
turn,  offereth  fine  flower  :  and  he  that  giveth  alms,  sacrificeth 
praise.  To  depart  from  wickedness  is  a  thing  pleasing  to  the 
Lord  :  and  to  forsake  unrighteousness,  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  reve- 
rence ;  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 
I  imports  more  particular  regard  and  good-will ;  so,  if  they  be 
duly  sensible  thereof,  it  engages  them  in  mutual  correspon-  i 
dence  to  an  extraordinary  esteem  and  benevolence  :  such  as 
David  on  this  account  professes  to  have  been  in  himself  to- 
ward God,  and  frequently  excites  others  to.  '  I  will  love  thee, 
O  Lord  my  strength.'  '  I  will  call  on  the  Lord,  who  is  worthy  to 
be  praised.'  '  The  Lord  liveth,  and  blessed  be  my  rock  ;  and 
let  the  God  of  my  salvation  be  exalted.'  '  1  love  the  Lord, 
because  he  hath  heard  my  voice  and  my  supplications.'  And, 
(in  the  Gospel,)  '  Because  her  sins,  being  many,  were  forgiven, 
therefore  she  lovtd  much.'  So  true  it  is,  that  sense  of  favor 
indulged  is  naturally  productive  of  love.* 

*  "Eerie  X"PIS  y&p  TV"  X°-Plv  "riKTOva  acl — Soph. 


L8f 


BARROW. — SERMON  VIII. 


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  exceedingly 
inlarge  the  worth,  and  engage  to  the  performance  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  incon- 
siderable trifles,  but  for  the  most  weighty  and  valuable  bene- 
fits :  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  possess,  or  can  here- 
after hope  for  of  good ;  but  that  we  were,  are,  or  shall  ever  be 
in  capacity  to  receive  any  :  to  the  author,  upholder,  and  pre- 
server of  our  being ;  without  whose  goodness  we  had  never 
been,  and  without  whose  care  we  cannot  subsist  one  mo- 
ment. 

To  him  who  is  the  Lord  and  true  owner  of  all  things  we 
partake  of;  whose  air  we  breathe,  whose  ground  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  subjected  so  fair  a  territory  to  our  domi- 
nion, and  consigned  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  on  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,  va- 
rious organs  fitly  proportioned,  situated,   and  tempered  for 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


183 


strength,  ornament,  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  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  deli- 
cious fare,  entertains  our  eyes  with  pleasant  spectacles,  ravishes 
our  ears  with  harmonious  sounds,  perfumes  our  nostrils  with 
fragrant  odors,  cheers  our  spirits  with  comfortable  gales,  '  fills 
our  hearts  with  food  and  gladness,'  supplies  our  manifold  needs, 
and  protects  us  from  innumerable  dangers. 

To  him  who  hath  inspired  us  with  immortal  minds,  and 
impressed  on  them  perspicuous  characters  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  extensive  know- 
lege  of  truth,  a  vehement  complacency  in  good,  a  forward  capa- 
city 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  con- 
ducts 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  pro- 
mises; instructing  us  by  his  holy  word,  and  admonishing  us  by 
his  loving  spirit. 

To  him  who  vouchsafes  to  grant  us  a  free  access  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  with  us ;  indulging  us 
the  enjoyment  of  that  presence,  wherein  the  life  of  all  joy  and 
comfort  consists,  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  de- 
based himself,  and  eclipsed  the  brightness  of  his  glorious  ma- 
jesty ;  not  disdaining  to  assume  us  into  a  near  affinity,  yea,  into 


I B4 


BARROW. — SERMON  VIII. 


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,  on  equal  terms 
with  us,  and  at  last  to  taste  the  bitter  cup  of  a  most  painful 
and  disgraceful  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  thereby  to  exalt  us  to  a  participation 
of  his  royal  dignity,  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. 

Farther  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  arguments,  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  to  accrue 
unto  himself;  but  being  absolute  master  of  his  own  actions, 
only  both  lawgiver  and  counsellor  to  himself,  all-sufficient,  and 
incapable  of  admitting  any  accession  to  his  perfect  blissfulness ; 
most  willingly  and  freely,  out  of  pure  bounty  and  goodwill,  is 
our  Friend  and  Benefactor  ;  preventing  not  only  our  desires, 
but  our  knowlege ;  surpassing  not  our  deserts  only,  but  our 
wishes,  yea,  even  our  conceits,  in  the  dispensation  of  his  inesti- 
mable 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,  continues  daily,  and  will  (if  we  suffer  him) 
to  all  eternity  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 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


183 


regards  us,  though  we  do  not  attend  to  him  ;  procures  our  wel- 
fare, though  we  neglect  his  concernments  ;  employs  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  forget  our- 
selves :  in  whom  yet  'tis  infinite  condescension  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  despicable  and  unworthy.  For  '  though  he  dwelleth  on 
high,'  saith  the  psalmist  truly  and  emphatically,  '  he  hum- 
bleth  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  mani- 
fold infirmities  and  imperfections,  but  our  petulant  follies,  our 
obstinate  perversenesses,  our  treacherous  infidelities ;  overlooks 
our  careless  neglects  and  our  wilful  miscarriages ;  puts  up 
the  exceedingly  many  outrageous  affronts,  injuries,  and  con- 
tumelies 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,  '  givetlr  freely,  and 
upbraideth  no  man;'  who  calls  us  neither  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  favors,  the  hearty 
acknowlegements '  of  his  goodness,  the  sincere  performance  of 
such  duties,  to  which  our  own  welfare,  comfort,  and  advantage 
(rightly  apprehended)  would  otherwise  abundantly  dispose  us. 

To  him,  lastly,  whose  benefits  to  acknowlege  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. 

In  a  word,  to  him  whose  benefits  are  immensely  great,  innu- 


186 


BARROW. — SERMON  VIII. 


merably  many,  unexpressibly  good  and  precious.  For  '  who 
can  utter  the  mighty  acts  of  the  Lord  ?  who  can  show  forth 
all  his  praise?'  said  he,  who  had  employed  often  his  most 
active  thoughts  and  his  utmost  endeavors  thereon,  and  was 
incomparably  better  able  to  do  it. 

To  this  God,  to  this  great,  to  this  only  Benefactor  of  ours, 
we  owe  this  most  natural  and  easy,  this  most  just  and  equal, 
this  most  sweet  and  pleasant  duty  of  giving  thanks.  To  whom 
if  we  wilfully  refuse,  if  we  carelessly  neglect  to  pay  it,  I  shall 
only  say  thus  much,  that  we  are  not  only  monstrously  ingrate- 
ful,  and  horribly  wicked,  but  abominably  foolish,  and  deplo- 
rably miserable.  I  shall  repeat  this  sentence  once  again,  and 
wish  it  may  have  its  due  effect  on  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  circumstance  of  time 
determined  in  the  word  always ;  and  the  extension  of  the 
matter  implied  in  those  words,  for  all  things;  and  then  to  sub- 
join some  farther  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  oppor- 
tunity. 


SERMON  IX. 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  IX. 

EPHESIANS,  CHAP.  V. — VERSE  20. 

Recapitulation  of  heads  in  the  preceding  discourse. 

III.  Consideration  of  the  circumstance  of  time  allotted  to 
the  performance  of  this  duty  of  giving  thanks,  expressed  by  that 
universal  and  unlimited  term,  always. 

This  not  to  be  understood  as  if  thereby  we  were  obliged  every 
instant  actually  to  remember,  to  consider,  and  to  acknowlege 
the  divine  benefits;  for  the  deliberate  operations  of  our  minds 
being  sometimes  wholly  interrupted  by  sleep,  and  at  others 
preoccupied  by  many  reasonable  employments,  it  were  im- 
possible to  comply  with  an  obligation  of  this  duty  so  in- 
terpreted. 

We  may  therefore  observe  that  the  Hebrews  are  wont,  in 
way  of  synecdoche,  or  grammatical  hyperbole,  so  to  use  words 
of  this  kind,  that  their  universal  importance  ought  to  be  re- 
strained by  the  quality  or  circumstances  of  the  matter  about 
which  they  treat.  Various  instances  given  of  this  from  holy 
Scripture  ;  whence  it  appears  that  such  injunctions  as  that  in 
the  text  are  to  be  taken  in  a  sense  so  qualified,  that  the  observ- 
ance of  them  may  be  at  least  morally  possible. 

Thus  far  we  may  limit  the  extension  of  this  seemingly  bound- 
less term  ;  but  we  can  hardly  allow  any  farther  restriction  with- 
out destroying  its  natural  signification,  or  diminishing  its  due 
emphasis :  as  far  therefore  as  it  is  possible  for  us,  we  must  en- 
deavor always  to  perform  this  duty  of  gratitude  to  God  ;  and 
consequently, 


188 


SUMMARY  OF 


1.  Hereby  is  required  that  we  do  often  actually  meditate 
on,  be  sensible  of,  confess  and  celebrate  the  divine  beneficence. 
If  God  incessantly  demonstrates  himself  gracious  unto  us,  we 
are  in  all  reason  obliged  frequently  to  confess  ourselves  grateful 
unto  him.  Instance  of  King  David,  who  seems  to  have  ap- 
proached very  near  to  the  complete  performance  of  this  duty. 
If  his  most  excellent  example  does  not  provoke  us  to  emulation, 
that  of  Epictetus,  a  heathen,  may  confound  us  with  shame  :  his 
remarkable  words  quoted.  And  although  neither  the  admo- 
nition of  prophets,  nor  the  precepts  of  philosophers,  nor 
the  examples  of  both,  should  prevail ;  yet  might  the  prece- 
dents of  dumb  and  senseless  creatures  animate  us  thereto  ;  for 
they  never  cease  to  obey  the  law  imposed  on  them  by  their 
Maker,  and  without  intermission  glorify  him  :  this  point  en- 
larged on. 

2.  Giving  thanks  always  may  import  our  appointing  and 
punctually  observing  certain  convenient  times  of  performing 
this  duty  ;  that  is.  of  seriously  meditating  on,  and  affectionately 
acknowleging  the  divine  bounty.  Instance  of  the  Jewish  sacri- 
fice, rendered  by  the  Greek  translators,  the  continual  sacrifice. 
As  that  sacrifice,  being  offered  constantly  at  a  set  time,  was 
thence  denominated  continual,  so  perhaps  may  we,  by  con- 
stantly observing  some  fit  returns  of  praise  and  thanksgiving,  be 
said  always  to  give  thanks. 

In  determining  the  seasons  and  proportions  of  this  duty, 
we  cannot  use  a  better  standard  than  that  of  the  royal  pro- 
phet. 

3.  But  farther,  giving  thanks  always  may  import  a  vigi- 
lant attendance  on  this  duty,  such  as  men  bestow  on  their  em- 
ployments, of  which,  though  the  actual  prosecution  ceases,  yet 
the  design  continually  proceeds;  just  as  we  say,  such  an  one  is 
writing  a  book,  or  building  a  house,  though  he  may  at  the  pre- 
sent time  be  occupied  by  some  other  employment;  because 


SERMON  IX. 


189 


his  design  never  sleeps,  and  his  purpose  continues  uninter- 
rupted. 

4.  This  term  always  necessarily  implies  a  ready  disposi- 
tion or  habitual  inclination  to  give  thanks,  ever  permanent  in 
us ;  that  our  hearts,  as  David's  was,  be  fixed  always,  that 
is,  fittingly  prepared  and  steadily  resolved  to  thank  and  praise 
God. 

5.  Lastly;  giving  thanks  always  imports  that  we  readily 
embrace  every  opportunity  of  actually  expressing  our  thankful- 
ness :  for  so  in  some  places  of  Scripture,  what  is  injoined  to  be 
done  continually,  is  in  others  only  required  to  be  done  on  all 
opportunities.  It  is  true  that  no  time  is  unfavorable  :  every 
moment  we  receive  favors,  and  therefore  every  minute  we  owe 
thanks  ;  yet  there  are  some  especial  seasons  that  do  more  impor- 
tunately require  them  :  such  pointed  out  at  length.  So  much 
concerning  the  time  of  performing  this  duty. 

IV.  The  matter  of  it  is  considered  ;  for  all  things.  Quota- 
tion from  St.  Chrysostom,  in  which  he  despairs  to  recount  all 
the  benefits  and  good  things  for  which  he  stands  engaged  to 
God.  The  devout  psalmist  similarly  affected,  Ps.  cxxxix.  17. 
18.  xxxvi.  5-7.  We  need  not  therefore  confound  ourselves  by 
launching  out  into  this  immense  ocean ;  but  to  observe  some 
little  distinction,  it  may  be  said, 

1.  We  are  to  give  tl  <»nks  not  only  for  great  and  notable 
benefits,  but  for  the  least  and  most  ordinary  of  God's  favors  ; 
though  indeed  none  are  in  themselves  small  and  inconsiderable  : 
this  point  enlarged  on. 

•2.  We  are  to  render  thanks  not  only  for  new  and  present 
benefits,  but  for  all  we  have  formerly,  all  that,  we  may  here- 
after receive.  Example  of  David  recommended  ;  who,  in  prais- 
ing God  for  favors  conferred  on  him,  looked  back  to  the  earliest 
period  of  his  existence  :  also  that  of  St.  Paul.  The  hope  and 
foresight  also  of  future  blessings  shown  worthily  to  claim  our 
thanks,  from  1  Pet.  i.  3.  4. 


180 


SUMMARY  OF 


3.  We  should  bless  God  not  only  for  new,  rare,  and 
extraordinary  events  of  Providence,  but  for  the  common 
daily  benefits  and  indulgences  thereof:  moreover  these  fa- 
vors are  usually  the  greatest  and  most  valuable  in  their  own 
nature. 

4.  We  should  give  thanks  not  only  for  private  and  parti- 
cular, but  for  public  benefits  also,  and  for  such  as  befal  others: 
exhortation  of  St.  Paul  on  this  head,  1  Tim.  ii.  1.  As  we  are 
all  citizens  of  the  world,  we  are  all  concerned  in  its  good  con- 
stitution, and  thence  obliged  to  adore  thankfully  its  benevolent 
upholder.  If  we  consult  all  history,  we  shall  find  innumerable 
instances  of  thankful  acknowlegement  to  the  divine  goodness 
on  this  head.  Reasons  urged  to  this  duty,  not  only  from  a 
common  interest,  but  from  charity,  humanity,  and  the  delight 
which  such  a  disposition,  when  cultivated,  bestows  on  ourselves. 
Example  of  David. 

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  to  our  natural  sense  :  we 
are  bound  to  pay  thanks,  not  only  for  our  food,  but  for  our 
physic  also,  which,  though  ungrateful  to  our  palate,  is  profitable 
for  our  health  :  reasons  for  this  given. 

6.  Lastly,  we  are  obliged  to  thank  God  not  only  for  cor- 
poreal and  temporal  benefits,  but  also,  and  that  principally,  for 
spiritual  and  eternal  blessings :  as  we  are  apt  to  desire  more 
vehemently,  and  more  passionately  to  bewail  the  loss  of, 
temporal  good  things,  so  are  we  wont  more  sincerely  and 
seriously  to  express  our  gratitude  for  the  reception  of  them, 
than  of  others  relating  to  our  spiritual  and  eternal  welfare  ; 
wherein  we  act  under  a  false  judgment:  this  shown:  in- 
junction of  our  Saviour  to  his  disciples  considered,  Luke 
x.  20.  Indebted  as  we  are  to  God  for  our  creation,  and  for 
the  excellent  faculties  with  which  he  has  endowed  us,  we 
are  still  more  so  for  our  redemption  and  the  circumstances 


SERMON  IX. 


of  inexpressible  love  and  grace  therein  declared :  this  subject 
enlarged  on. 

Concluding  considerations  persuasive  to  the  practice  of  this 
duty. 

I.  First  we  may  consider  that  there  is  no  disposition  more 
deeply  radicated  in  the  original  constitution  of  all  souls  endued 
with  any  kind  of  perception  or  passion,  than  that  of  being  sen- 
sible of  benefits  received,  being  ready  with  suitable  expressions 
to  acknowlege  them,  and  endeavoring  competently  to  recom- 
pense them  :  even  the  worst  of  men  retain  something  of  this 
natural  inclination,  and  the  very  brute  creation  gives  evidence 
of  it :  how  monstrous  a  thing  therefore  in  us  is  ingratitude  to- 
wards God,  from  whom  alone  we  receive  whatever  we  enjoy, 
whatever  we  can  expect  of  good  ! 

II.  The  second  obligation  to  this  duty  is  most  just  and  equal  ; 
since  we  are  in  all  reason  indebted  for  what  is  freely  given,  as 
well  as  for  what  is  lent  to  us  :  for  the  freeness  of  the  giver, 
his  not  exacting  security,  nor  expressing  conditions  of  return, 
doth  not  diminish,  but  rather  increase  the  debt :  this  en- 
larged on. 

III.  Thirdly,  this  is  a  most  sweet  and  delightful  duty :  as  the 
performance  of  it  proceeds  from  good  humor  and  a  cheerful 
disposition  of  mind,  so  it  feeds  and  foments  them  both.  Prayer 
reminds  us  of  our  imperfections  and  wants ;  confession  of  our 
misdeeds  and  bad  deserts ;  but  thanksgiving  includes  nothing 
uneasy  or  unpleasant,  nothing  but  the  memory  and  sense  of  ex- 
ceeding goodness. 

Other  considerations  briefly  added  :  viz.  that  this  duty  is  of 
all  others  most  acceptable  to  God  and  profitable  to  us,  inducing 
him  to  bestow  more,  and  qualifying  us  to  receive  it  :  that  it 
promotes  and  facilitates  the  practice  of  all  other  duties  :  that 
the  memory  of  past  benefits,  and  sense  of  those  present,  confirms 
our  faith  and  nourishes  our  hopes :  that  the  circumstances  of 


L92 


SUMMARY   OF  SERMON  IX. 


the  divine  beneficence  mightily  strengthen  the  obligation  to  this 
duty  :  that  giving  thanks  hath  de  facto  always  been  the  prin- 
cipal part  of  religion,  whether  instituted  by  divine  command, 
prompted  by  natural  reason,  or  propagated  by  general  tradition. 
Concluding  prayer. 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


193 


SERMON  IX. 

OF  THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


EPHESIANS,  CHAP.  V. — VERSE  20. 
Giving  thanks  always  for  all  things  unto  God. 

Having  formerly  discoursed  on  these  words,  I  observed  in 
them  four  particulars  considerable  :  1.  The  substance  of  a  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.' 
Concerning  the  two  former  particulars,  wherein  the  duty  con- 
sisted, and  wherefore  especially  related  unto  God,  I  then  re- 
presented what  did  occur  to  my  meditation. 

III.  I  proceed  now  to  the  third,  the  circumstance  of  time 
allotted  to  the  performance  of  this  duty,  expressed  by  that  uni- 
versal and  unlimited  term,  always. 

Which  yet  is  not  so  to  be  understood,  as  if  thereby  we  were 
obliged  in  every  instant  (or  singular  point  of  time)  actually  to 
remember,  to  consider,  to  be  affected  with,  and  to  acknowlege 
the  divine  benefits  :  for  the  deliberate  operations  of  our  minds 
being  sometimes  wholly  interrupted  by  sleep,  otherwhile  pre- 
occupied by  the  indispensable  care  of  serving  our  natural 
necessities,  and  with  attendance  on  other  reasonable  employ- 
ments, it  were  impossible  to  comply  with  an  obligation  to  the 
performance  of  this  duty  so  interpreted.  And  those  maxims  of 
law,  impossibilium  nulla  est  obligatio,  and  quce  rerum  natura 
prohibentur,  nulla  lege  confirmata  sunt,  (that  is,  '  no  law  or 
BAR.  vol.  I.  I 


194 


BARROW. — SERMON  IX. 


precept  can  oblise  to  impossibilities,')  being  evidently  grounded 
on  natural  equity,  seem  yet  more  valid  in  relation  to  his  laws, 
who  is  the  Judge  of  all  the  world,  and  in  his  dispensations  most 
transcendently  just  and  equal. 

We  may  therefore  observe  that  the  Hebrews  are  wont  (in 
way  of  synecdoche,  or  grammatical  hyperbole)  so  to  use  words 
of  this  kind,  that  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  to  be  taken  for 
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  is  none  that 
doeth  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  continual,  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  of  Israel  (the  Urim  and 
Thummim)  on  his  heart  before  the  Lord  continually  ;'  that  is, 
(not  in  absolute  and  rigorous  acceptation  continually,  but)  con- 
stantly ever  when  he  went  into  the  holy  place  to  discharge  the 
pontifical  function,  as  the  context  declares.  And  our  Saviour 
in  the  gospel  saith  of  himself, 'Eyi»  jra>rore  ebiba£a,  '  I  always 
taught  in  the  temple  ;'  that  is,  very  often,  and  ever  when  lit 
occasion  was  presented.  And  the  Apostles,  immediately  after 
Christ's  ascension,  7)auv  btairavTus  kv  rw  iepy, '  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  '  rejoicing,'  of  '  giving  thauks  always,' 
and  particularly  of  '  praying  without  ceasing,'  (as  I  have  shown 
more  largely  in  another  discourse,)  are  to  be  taken  in  a  sense 
so  qualified,  that  the  observance  of  them  may  be  at  least 
morally  possible. 

Thus  tar  warrantably  we  may  limit  the  extension  and  mollify 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


tin  rigor  of  this  seemingly  boundless  term  ;  but  we  can  hardly 
allow  any  farther  restriction,  without  destroying  the  natural 
signification,  or  diminishing  the  due  emphasis  thereof.  As  far 
th<  refore  as  it  is  possible  for  us,  we  must  endeavor  always  to 
perform  this  duty  of  gratitude  to  Almighty  God  :  and  con- 
sequently, 

I,  Hereby  is  required  a  frequent  performance  thereof ;  that 
we  do  often  actually  meditate  on,  be  sensible  of,  confess  and 
celebrate  the  divine  beneficence.  For  what  is  done  but  seldom 
or  never,  (as  we  commonly  say,)  cannot  be  understood  done 
always,  without  a  calachresis,  or  abuse  of  words  too  enormous. 
As  therefore  no  moment  of  our  life  wants  sufficient  matter,  and 
every  considerable  portion  of  time  ministers  notable  occasion 
of  blessing  God  ;  as  he  allows  himself  no  spacious  intervals  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  thank- 
fulness to  him ;  nor  to  admit  in  our  course  of  life  any  long  va- 
cations from  his  duty.  If  God  incessantly,  and  through  every 
minute,  demonstrates  himself  gracious  unto  us;  we  in  all 
reason  are  obliged  frequently  and  daily  to  declare  ourselves 
grateful  unto  him. 

So  at  least  did  David,  (that  most  eminent  example  in  this 
kind,  and  therefore  most  apposite  to  illustrate  our  doctrine,  and 
to  enforce  the  practice  thereof;)  for,  '  every  day,'  saith  he,  '  I 
will  bless  thee  ;  1  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  conse- 
crated to  thanksgiving.  Neither  did  he  adjudge  it  sufficient  to 
devote  some  small  parcels  of  each  day  to  this  service  ;  for 
'  my  tongue,'  saith  he,  '  shall  speak  of  thy  righteousness  and  of 
thy  praise  all  the  day  long ;'  and  again,  '  My  mouth  shall  show 
forth  thy  righteousness  and  thy  salvation  all  the  day,  for  I 
know  not  the  numbers  thereof.'  The  benefits  of  God  he  appre- 
hended 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  on  that  employ- 
ment :   '  While  I  live  I  will  praise   the  Lord :  I  will  sing 


196 


BARROW. — SERMON  IX. 


praises  unto  my  God  while  I  have  any  being ;'  and  *  I  will  bless 
the  Lord  at  all  times :  his  praise  shall  continually  be  in  my 
mouth.'  No  man  can  reasonably  pretend  greater  impediments, 
or  oftener  avocations  from  the  practice  of  this  duty,  than  he, 
on  whom  the  burden  of  a  royal  estate,  and  the  care  of  govern- 
ing a  populous  nation,  were  incumbent  :  yet  could  not  they 
thrust  out  of  his  memony,  nor  extinguish  in  his  heart,  the  lively 
sense  of  divine  goodness;  which  (notwithstanding  the  company 
of  other  secular  incumbrances)  was  always  present  to  his  mind, 
and  like  a  spirit,  (excluded  from  no  place  by  any  corporeal 
resistance,)  did  mingle  with  and  penetrate  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  the  extremity  of  a  literal  interpretation,  and  to  have  been 
always,  without  any  intermission,  employed  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  example  do  not, 
yet  certainly  that  may  both  provoke  us  to  emulation,  and  con- 
found us  with  shame,  of  Epictetus,  a  heathen  man,  whose 
words  to  this  purpose  seem  very  remarkable  :  Ei  yap  vovi 
eiypiitv,  saith  he  in  Arrian's  Dissert,  f  a\\o  ri  ebet  >//i5s 
Tuielv,  Kai  KOirrj,  nai  SS/y,  y  v/jvelv  to  6elov,  icai  eixpTifie'tv,  Kai 
Iwelep^eaOfii  ras  ^cipiras  ;  ovk  ebet  Kai  OKairTOvras,  Kai  hpovvras, 
kai  eadiovTcis  ipbeiv  tov  vpvov  tov  eh  tov  Qeov  ;  Meyns  6  Oeos,  &C. 
that  is,  in  our  language,  "  If  we  understood  ourselves,  what 
other  thing  should  we  do,  either  publicly  or  privately,  than 
sung  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  ?J    Great  is  God, 

*  Ei  8e  BaaiXeiis  avrip  /ivp'iais  $aim£6p.VJ0S  (ppovrlcri,  Kai  iravrax&Bev  -repieX- 
xipffos,  TOffouTctKU  irape/caAfi  T~bv  Q(6v  rlva  av  %xoip.(V  airoKo~/lav  rj  avr/vi- 
Ti/jius,  Toaavrr\v  trx°*-hv  dyovrts,  Kai  /ii)  crwex«s  avrbv  UeTevovres,  &c. — 

Chrys.  torn.  v.  p.  76. 
t  Lib.  )■  cap.  17. 

t  Tlavra  roivvv  t\>v  $iov  iopr\)v  &-/ovres,  vivrri  vdiToBev  irapeivai  rbv  Qebv 
irtittiapivoi,  yewpyovpcv  alvovmes,  Tr\iop.ev  v/ivovvres,  Kara.  Ti]v  dw-qv  iroXiTeiaf 
ivTixvwi  avavTpt<p6p.t(!a — Clem.  Alex.  Slrom.  vii.  p.  517. 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


1 07 


in  that  he  hath  bestowed  on  us  those  instruments  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"  (proceeds  he)  "  should  we  on  every  occur- 
rence 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  discharge  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  belongs  to  a  nightingale;  if  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  employment 
while  it  is  in  my  power  ;  and  to  the  same  song  I  exhort  you 
all."  Thus  that  worthy  philosopher,  not  instructing  us  only, 
and  exhorting  with  pathetical  discourse,  but  by  his  practice 
inciting  us  to  be  continually  expressing  our  gratitude  to  God. 

And  although  neither  the  admonition  of  prophets,  nor  pre- 
cepts of  philosophers,  nor  the  examples  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  glo- 
rify him.  For,  '  the  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God,  and 
the  firmament  showeth  his  handy  work.  Day  unto  day  utter- 
eth  speech,  and  night  unto  night  showeth  knowlege.  There  is 
no  speech  nor  language,  where  their  voice  is  not  heard.'  It  is 
St.  Chrysostom's  argumentation  ;  Kai  yap  ala^pdv  av  eitj,  saith 
he,  ruv  koytKvv  avQpmwov,  teal  Twv  opuifxevutv  airtiVToiv  Ttfitwrepw, 
eXa-rov  ti'is  Kriaeios  fepeiv  Kara  tuv  ri/s  ev<pr)fiias  Xuyov  ovk  aia- 
Xt'ov  Se  fivvov,  a\\a  na\  utottov,  &c.  "  It  were  an  ugly  thing, 
that  man,  endued  with  reason,  and  the  most  honorable  of  all 
things  visible,  should  in  rendering  thanks  and  praise  be  ex- 
ceeded 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  doxology  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 


198 


BARROW. — SERMON'  IX. 


earth  is  perpetually  active  in  manifesting  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  disposed  to  contribute  our 
endeavors  to  the  advancement  of  his  glory  ?  But, 

2.  '  Giving  thanks  always'  may  import  our  appointing,  and 
punctually  observing,  certain  convenient  times  of  performing 
this  duty ;  that  is,  of  serious  meditation  on,  and  affectionate 
acknowlegement  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  portions  of  time,  assigning  some  to  the  ne- 
cessary reflexions  of  their  body,  others  to  the  divertisement  of 
their  minds,  and  a  great  part  to  the  dispatch  of  their  ordinary 
business:  otherwise  (like  St.  James's  'double-minded  man') 
they  would  be  '  unstable  in  all  their  ways;'  they  would  ever 
fluctuate  in  their  resolutions,  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  dutv,  if 
we  do  not  depute  some  vacant  seasons  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  di- 
verted 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  i>on  (juge,)  rendered 
by  the  Greek  translators,  //  biawavTos  Qvtria,  '  the  continual  sa- 
crifice ;'  (Dan.  viii.  11.)  to  which  the  divine  author  of  the  Epis- 
tle to  the  Hebrews  seems  to  allude,  when  in  these  words  he  ex- 
horts :  A«'  avTOV  ovv  avafepw/jev  Qvoiav  ah  iaeuis  btmravros  roi  Oeu>- 
'  by  him  therefore  let  us  offer  the  sacrifice  of  praise  to  God  con- 
tinually,' (or  the  continual  sacrifice  of  praise,)  '  the  fruit  of  our 
lips,  giving  thanks  to  his  name.'  -As  that  sacrifice  therefore, 
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 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


199 


bther  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  fre- 
quency;)  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  those  words  of 
his  ;  '  It  is  a  good  thing  to  give  thanks  unto  the  Lord,  and  to 
sins  praises  unto  thy  name,  O  thou  Most  High  ;  to  show  forth 
thy  loving-kindness  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  show  forth  thy  loving-kindness ;'  that  is,  from  a 
hearty  sense  of  our  obligation,  to  acknowlege  the  free  bounty 
of  him,  who  in  pursuance  of  his  former  kindness  hath  been 
pleased  to  accumulate  new  favors  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  on  us,  re- 
storing us  to  our  health,  to  our  means  of  subsistence,  to  all  the 
necessary  supports,  and  the  desirable  comforts  of  life  :  '  every 
night9  also  ;  that  is,  when  our  spirits  are  exhausted  with  action, 
and  our  minds  tired  with  thoughtfulness ;  when  we  are  become 
weary,  not  of  doing  only,  but  almost  of  being  ;  we  should  con- 
clude our  toils,  and  wrap  up  our  cares  in  the  sweet  sense  and 
grateful  memory  of  his  goodness,  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  inclinations,  we  are 
through  every  minute  exposed  ;  and  withal  hath  provided  us 
so  easy  and  so  delightful  a  means  of  recovering  our  spent  ac- 
tivity, of  repairing  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  outgoings  of  the  morning  and  evening  to  rejoice' 
in  him  :  (since  beginning  and  ending  do  in  a  manner  compre- 
hend the  whole  ;  and  the  morning  and  evening,  in  Moses's 
computation  and  style,  do  constitute  a  day  ;)  we  may  (not  in- 


200 


BARROW. — SERMON  IX. 


congruously)  be  supposed  and  said  to  '  give  thanks  always;' 
But  yet  farther,  this  may  import, 

3.  A  vigilant  attendance  on  this  duty,  such  as  men  bestow 
on  their  employments,  whereof  though  the  actual  prosecution 
ceases,  yet  the  design  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  peradventure  sleeping,  or 
eating,  or  satisfying  some  other  desire ;  because  his  design 
never  sleeps,  and  his  purpose  persists  uninterrupted.  And  thus, 
it  seems,  we  are  to  understand  our  Saviour  and  the  Apostles, 
when  they  exhort  us  wpoet:aprepeh;  '  to  continue  instant  in 
prayer  and  thanksgiving ;'  and  aypvrrveiv  ev  vairrj  irpooKapT€pi\- 
aei,  to  '  watch  with  all  perseverance  ;'  and  ypijyopelv,  to  '  wake 
in  thanksgiving ;'  and  /i?)  waveodai,  '  not  to  give  over  giving 
thanks:'  and  to  perform  these  duties  ubiaXeiirrbis,  'incessantly,' 
or  '  without  giving  off;'  fii)  hxasav,  '  not  to  grow  worse,  faint, 
or  faulter :'  (which  is,  in  that  place,  made  equivalent  to,  expli- 
catory of  doing  duty  always.)  Which  expressions  denote  a 
most  diligent  attendance  on  these  duties ;  that  we  may  make 
them  not  a  napepyov,  a  diversion  or  by-business  of  our  lives, 
allowing  only  a  perfunctory  and  desultorious  endeavor  on  them ; 
but  esteem  them  a  weighty  business,  to  be  pursued  with  stead- 
fast 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  in- 
tention should  aim  at,  and  our  endeavor  always  drive  on,  to 
glorify  our  Maker.  Which  doing,  we  may  be  reputed  to  dis- 
charge this  duty,  and  in  some  sense  said  '  always  to  give  thanks.' 
But  farther, 

4.  This  term  ['  always  ']  doth  necessarily  imply  a  ready  dis- 
position or  habitual  inclination  to  give  thanks,  ever  permanent 
in  us  :  that  our  '  hearts,'  as  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  easy  inflammable  by  the  sense  of  his  good- 
ness. 

'Tis  said  of  the  righteous  man  that  '  he  is  ever  merciful,  and 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


201 


lendeth  :'  not  for  that  he  doth  ever  actually  dispense  alms,  or 
furnish  his  poor  neighbor  with  supplies  ;  but  because  his  mind 
is  ever  inclinable  to  do  it  when  need  requires.  So  a  grateful 
man  doth  '  always  give  thanks,'  by  being  disposed  to  do  it  on 
all  fit  occasions.  'Tis  the  habit  that  qualifies  and  denominates 
a  man  such  or  such  in  any  kind  or  degree  of  morality.  A  good 
man  is  in  Scripture  frequently  compared  to  a  '  tree  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  favor  :  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  thankful- 
ness. For  so,  what  in  some  places  of  Scripture  is  enjoined  to 
be  done  'continually,'  and  '  without  ceasing,'  is  in  others 
only  required  to  be  done  on  all  opportunities.  Which  shows 
that  TruvTore  is  to  be  expounded,  not  so  much  kv  iravri  \p<jvwt 
'  at  all  times,'  as  kv  iravri  Katpbi,  '  in  every  season.'  So  -n po a 
fievot  evKavTt  KaipJ  kv  rrvevfian,  '  praying  on  every  opportunity 
in  your  spirit:'  and,  'Aypvirvelre  ovv  kv  navri  icaipip  bevfievoi, 
'  be  watchful,  praying  in  every  season.'  And  this  sense  seems 
probably  to  be  chiefly  intended  by  this  Apostle,  whenever  he 
hath  (as  he  hath  often)  this  expression,  ttclvtots  evxapirrre'tv, 
that  we  embrace  every  overture  or  fit  occasion  of  giving 
thanks. 

'Tis  true  no  time  is  unseasonable  to  do  it :  every  moment  we 
receive  favors,  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 


202 


BARROW. — SERMON  IX. 


abundantly  when  more  powerfully  cherished  by  the  heavenly 
warmth. 

When  any  fresh,  any  rare,  any  remarkable  benefit  happens 
to  us ;  when  prosperous  success  attends  our  honest  endeavors  ; 
when  unexpected  favors  fall  as  it  were  of  their  own  accord  into 
our  bosoms:  (like  the  grain  in  the  golden  age  springing  i'lairnp-a 
rai  ivfipora,  without  our  care  or  our  toil,  for  our  use  and  enjoy- 
ment;) when  we  are  delivered  from  straits  in  our  apprehension 
inextricable,  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 
favorable  passages  of  Providence,  that  in  the  whole  course  of 
our  lives  have  befallen  us  :  how  in  our  extreme  poverty  and  dis- 
tress (when  perhaps  no  help  appeared,  and  all  hopes  seemed  to 
fail  us,)  God  hath  raised  us  up  friends  who  have  commiserated, 
comforted,  and  succored  us;  and  not  only  so,  but  hath  changed 
our  sorrowful  condition  into  a  state  of  joy ;  hath  (to  use  the 
psalmist's  expressions)  'turned  our  mourning  into  dancing;' 
hath  '  put  off  our  sackcloth,  and  girded  us  with  gladness;'  hath 
'  considered  our  trouble,  and  known  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  adven- 
tures, and  travels  of  our  life,  on  sea  and  land,  at  home  and 
abroad,  among  friends,  and  strangers,  and  enemies,  he  hath  pro- 
tected us  from  wants  and  dangers ;  from  devouring  diseases, 
and  the  distemperatures  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  treache- 
rous surprises;  from  open  mischiefs,  that  with  a  dreadful 
face  approached  and  threatened  our  destruction  :  then  most 
opportunely  should  we  with  all  thankful  exultation  of  mind 
admire  and  celebrate  'our  strength,  and  our  deliverer;'  our 
faithful  '  refuge  in  trouble,'  and  '  the  rock  of  our  salvation.' 

Also  when  the  ordinary  effects  of  divine  Providence  do  in 
any  advantageous  manner  present  themselves  to  our  view  ; 
when  we  peruse  the  volumes  of  story,  and  therein  observe  the 
various  events  of  human  action ;  especially  the  seasonable  re- 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


203 


wards  of  virtue,  the  notable  protections  and  deliverances  of  inno- 
cence, and  the  unexpected  punishments  of  malicious  wicked- 
ness :  then  we  should  with  thankful  acclamations  celebrate 
the  divine  goodness  and  justice;  joining  in  concert  with  that 
heavenly  choir,  and  saying, '  Hallelujah  ;  salvation,  and  glory, 
and  honor,  and  power,  unto  the  Lord  our  God :  for  true  and 
righteous  are  his  judgments.' 

Or  when  we  contemplate  the  wonderful  works  of  nature,  and, 
walking  about  at  our  leisure,  gaze  on  this  ample  theatre  of  the 
world,  considering  the  stately  beauty,  constant  order,  and  sump- 
tuous furniture  thereof ;  the  glorious  splendor  and  uniform  mo- 
tion of  the  heavens  ;  the  pleasant  fertility  of  the  earth  ;  the 
curious  figure  and  fragrant  sweetness  of  plants  ;  the  exquisite 
frame  of  animals ;  and  all  other  amazing  miracles  of  nature, 
wherein  the  glorious  attributes  of  God  (especially  his  transcen- 
dent goodness)  are  most  conspicuously  displayed  ;  so  that  by 
them  not  only  large  acknowlegements,  but  even  gratulatory 
hymns,  as  it  were,  of  praise  have  been  extorted  from  the  mouths 
of  Aristotle,  Pliny,  Galen,  and  such  like  men,  never  sus- 
pected 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  Provi- 
dence, from  every  common  occurrence,  we  may  extract  fit  mat- 
ter of  thanksgiving:  as  did  our  Saviour,  when,  considering  the 
stupid  infidelity  of  those  proud  people  of  Chorazin,  Bethsaida, 
and  Capernaum,  (who  were  not  at  all  affected  by  his  miraculous 
works,  nor  moved  to  repentance  by  his  pathetical  discourses,) 
and  comparing  it  with  the  pious  credulity  of  his  meaner  disci- 
ples, he  brake  forth  into  that  divine  ejaculation  ;  '  I  thank  thee, 
O  Father,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  that  thou  hast  concealed 
these  things  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and  hast  revealed  them 
unto  babes.'  'Ev  eKelvy  ra  Kaip<p  awokptdeh  'Irjaovs  eiTre,  saith 
the  evangelical  narration  :  *  On  that  occasion  Jesus  thus  spake  :' 
he  embraced  that  convenient  opportunity  of  thankfully  acknow- 
leging  God's  wise  and  gracious  dispensation.  And  frequent 
occasion  is  afforded  us  daily  (were  our  minds  suitably  disposed) 
of  doing  the  like. 

But  so  much  concerning  the  time  of  performing  this  duty. 


204 


BARROW. — SERMON  IX. 


IV.  We  proceed  to  the  matter  thereof,  '  for  all  things.'  St. 
Chrysostom  (in  his  Commentary  on  the  145th  Psalm)  having 
enumerated  several  particulars  for  which  we  are  hound  to  thank 
God;  "Because,"  (I  recite  his  words  punctually  rendered,) 
"  because,"  saith  he,  "  he  hath  made  us,  who  before  had  no 
being,  and  made  us  such  as  we  are ;  because  he  upholds  us 
being  made,  and  takes  care  of  us  continually,  both  publicly 
and  privately,  secretly  and  openly,  with  and  without  our  know- 
lege  ;  for  all  visible  things  created  for  our  sake,  the  ministry  of 
them  afforded  to  us  ;  the  conformation  of  our  bodies,  the  noble- 
ness of  our  souls;  his  daily  dispensations  by  miracles,  by  laws, 
by  punishments;  his  various  and  incomprehensible  Providence; 
for  the  chief  of  all,  that  he  hath  not  spared  his  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  kingdom  of  heaven, 
the  resurrection,  the  enjoyment  of  perfect  bliss:"  having,  I 
say,  in  these  words  comprised  the  things  for  which  we  are 
obliged  to  thank  and  praise  God,  he  thus  despondently  con- 
cludes;  ('Aii  yap  €ko.<tt6v  tis  tovtihv  KaraXeyr},  els  ireXayos 
ixipciTov  e;u7re<7eirat  evepyeoiwv,  xat  o\perai  irdowv  inriv  inrevBvvos 
rwOejj.)  "If  any  one  shall  endeavor  to  recount  particularly 
every  one  of  these  things,  he  will  but  plunge  himself  into  an 
unexpressible  deep  of  benefits,  and  then  perceive  for  how  unex- 
pressibly  and  (inconceivably  many  good  things  he  stands  engaged 
to  God."  And  to  the  like  nonplus  doth  the  devout  psalmist 
seem  to  be  reduced,  when  he  thus  exclaims, '  How  precious  are 
thy  thoughts  unto  me,  O  God  !  bow  great  is  the  sum  of  them ! 
If  I  should  count  them,  they  are  more  in  number  than  the 
sat*!.' 

I  shall  not  therefore  confound  myself  by  launching  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.  Xo  oc- 
currence (great  or  small,  common  or  particular,  present  or  past, 
pleasant  or  sad,  perpetual  or  transitory)  is  excluded  from  being 
the  subject  of  our  thanksgiving  :  each  one  may  prove  benefi- 
cial to  us ;  and  we  are  with  a  cheerful  contentedness  and  a 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


20$ 


grateful  resentment  to  receive  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  favors  of  God  ; 
though  indeed  none  of  God's  favors  are  in  themselves  small 
and  inconsiderable.  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  re- 
ceive the  least  testimony  of  his  goodwill,  from  whom  alone 
every  good  thing  can  be  expected ;  on  whose  disposal  all 
happy  success  of  our  wishes,  our  hopes,  and  our  endeavors  do 
intirely  depend  !  We  repute  him  unjust  who  withholds  the 
least  part  of  what  is  due  from  the  true  owner  :  and  is  not  he  in- 
grateful  then,  that  omits  to  render  thanks  for  the  least  of  divine 
mercies  ? 

'  There  is  one  glory  of  the  sun,  another  of  the  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  pleasant  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  a  wanton  thought,  we  owe  a  hymn  of  praise  to  God. 
But, 

2.  We  are  to  render  thanks,  not  only  for  new  and  present 
benefits,  but  for  all  we  have  formerly,  all  that  we  may  here- 
after receive.  We  find  David  not  only  frequently  acknowlege- 
ing  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  prais- 
ing God  for  favors  conferred  on  him  beyond  his  memory,  yea 
before  his  life.  '  I  will  praise  thee,'  saith  he,  {  for  I  am  fear- 
fully aud  wonderfully  made :  marvellous  are  thy  works,  and 
that  my  soul  knoweth  right  well.    My  substance  was  not  hid 


206 


BARROW. — SERMON  IX. 


from  thee,  when  I  was  made  in  secret,  and  curiously  wrought 
in  the  lower  parts  of  the  earth.  Thine  eyes  did  see  my  sub- 
stance, yet  being  imperfect ;  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  farther  reflecting 
his  grateful  consideration,  blesses  God  for  his  favor  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  dead ;  to  an 
inheritance  incorruptible  and  undefiled,  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  gene- 
rous temper  resent  indifferently  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  purposed,  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,  extraor- 
dinary accidents  of  providence,  but  for  the  common  and  daily 
benefits  and  indulgences  thereof.  These  favors  are  usually 
the  greatest  and  most  valuable  in  their  own  nature.  (For  what 
can  be  imagined  of  higher  consequence  to  us,  than  the  preser- 
vation of  our  lives  and  of  our  estates,  by  which  they  are  com- 
fortably maintained  ;  than  the  continuance  of  our  bodies  in 
good  health,  and  our  minds  in  their  right  wits;  than  the 
knowlege  of  heavenly  truth,  the  encouragements  to  virtue  and 
piety,  the  assistances  of  divine  grace,  and  the  promises  of 
eternal  bliss  continually  exhibited  to  us?*)    Shall  the  com- 

*  Quem  vero  astrorum  ordines,  quem  dierum  noctiumque  vicissi- 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


•2i)7 


monncss  and  continuance  of  these  exceeding  favors,  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  this  abate 
and  enervate  our  gratitude,  which  in  all  reason  should  mainly 
increase  and  confirm  it  ?  But  this  point  I  also  touched 
before,  and  therefore,  forbearing  to  insist  thereon,  I  proceed. 

4.  We  should  give  thanks,  not  only  for  private  and  par- 
ticular, but  for  public  benefits  also,  and  for  such  as  befal 
others.  '  I  exhort  then  fore,'  saith  St.  Paul,  '  before  all 
things,  that  supplications,  prayers,  intercessions,  and  thanks- 
givings be  made  for  all  men  :'  not  prayers  only,  for  good  things 
to  be  bestowed  on  others ;  but  thanksgivings  also,  for  the 
bem  fits  received  by  others.  (And  bnep  wivrop  in  our  text, 
however  otherwise  commonly  interpreted,  may  well  admit  this 
sense  also  ;  and  be  taken  indifferently,  pro  omnibus,  '  for  all 
persons,'  and  propter  omnia,  'for  all  things.') 

We  are  all  citizens  of  the  world,  and  concerned  in  its  good 
constitution ;  and  thence  obliged  thankfully  to  adore  the 
mighty  B  pholder  and  wise  Governor  thereof,  praising  him  for 
all  the  general  benefits  liberally  poured  forth  on  mankind. 
We  partake  in  the  commodities  of  civil  society  ;  and  therefore 
should  heartily  thank  him,  by  whose  gracious  disposal  order  is 
maintained,  peace  continued,  justice  administered,  plenty  pro- 
vided, our  lives  made  safe  and  sweet  to  us  therein.  We  are 
members  of  a  church,  and  highly  interested  in  the  prosperous 
estate  and  well-being  thereof :  when  unity  therefore  is  pre- 
served, and  charity  abounds  ;  when  knowlege  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. 

We  are  much  mistaken  in  our  account,  if  we  either  determine 
our  own  concernments,  or  measure  this  duty,  by  the  narrow 
rule  of  our  private  advantage;  for  subducting  either  the  bene- 
fits commonly  indulged  to  mankind,  or  those  which  accrue 

tudincs,  quem  mensium  temperafio,  quemque  ea  quae  nobis  gignun- 
tur  ad  fruendum  non  gratum  esse  cogant ;  liunc  bominera  oninino 
nuincrare  qui  decet? — Cic.  dc  Leg.  ii. 


208 


BARROW. — SERMON  IX. 


from  the  welfare  of  public  society,  what  possibility  will  remain 
of  subsistence,  of  safety,  of  content  unto  us?  what  but  con- 
fusion, want,  violence,  and  disquiet  ? 

As  we  are  concerned  with  our  utmost  endeavors  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  considerable,  but  the  earnest 
endeavors  of  good  men  for  public  benefit,  and  their  thankful 
acknowlegements  to  the  divine  goodness  for  it.  Moses,  David, 
Xehemiab,  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  on  these 
accounts  we  are  commanded  to  'do  good  to  all  men;'  to 
'  rejoice  with  those  that  rejoice  :'  to  '  love  even  those  that  hate 
us,'  and  «  bless  those  that  curse  us ;'  'tis  (by  fair  consequence) 
surely  intended  that  we  should  also  bless  God  for  the  good 
issue  of  our  honest  endeavors,  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  splendor  of 
the  greatest  princes,  not  the  wisdom  of  the  profoundest  doctors, 
not  the  religion  of  the  devoutest  anchorets,  no,  nor  the  happi- 
ness of  the  highest  angels :  for  on  this  supposition,  as  the  glory 
of  all  is  God's,  so  the  content  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  neighbor'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  on  himself,  and  makes  himself,  as 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


209 


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  frecpjently  thanking  God,  not  for  his 
favor  only  and  mercy  showed  particularly  to  himself,  but  for 
his  common  munificence  toward  all ;  for  (to  use  his  own  phrases) 
'  his  goodness  to  all,  and  his  tender  mercies  overall  his  works 
for'  executing  judgment  in  behalf  of  the  oppressed;'  for  1  feed- 
ing the  hungry  ;'  for  '  loosening  the  prisoners  ;'  for  '  opening  the 
eyes  of  the  blind  ;'  for  '  raising  them  that  are  bowed  down 
for  '  preserving  the  strangers,'  and  •  relieving  the  fatherless  and 
widow;'  for  'lifting  up  the  meek;'  for  '  loving,  and  caring 
for,  and  defending  the  righteous;'  for  '  opening  his  hand,  and 
satisfying  the  desire  of  every  living  thing;'  for  'giving  to  the 
beast  his  food,  and  to  the  young  ravens  when  they  cry  unto 
him;'  in  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  to  our  natural  sense  ;  for 
poverty,  sickness,  disgrace ;  for  all  the  sorrows  and  troubles, 
the  disasters  and  disappointments  that  befal  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  to  a   happy  end,  that  is 

"  Tbv  6(bv  A/toiws  aw/ivc'v  xp^.  ko.\  Kohd^ovra,  ko.1  ivtevra  KoKamoiv  a/j.'po- 
Tff>a  yap  KTjSe/itoj'ias,  apipdrepa  Q.ya96Tr\ros,  &c. — Chrysost.  in  Psal.  cxlviii. 


210 


BARROW. — SERMON  IX. 


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  intention 
toward  us;  for  'whom  God  loveth  he  chasteneth,  and  scours- 
eth  every  son  whom  he  receiveth  ;'  and  '  I  know,  O  Lord,' 
saith  David,  '  that  thy  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  there- 
fore accordingly  disposeth  to  us 

 pro  jucundis  aptissima  quaeque  ; 

instead  of  pleasant  honey,  he  sometimes  prescribes  wholesome 
wormwood  for  us.  We  are  ourselves  greatly  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,  incum- 
ber 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  mis- 
tress of  wisdom  ;  which  will  make  us  understand  ourselves  and 
our  dependence  on  him,  and  force  us  to  have  recourse  to  his 
help.  And  is  there  not  reason  we  should  be  thankful  for  the 
means  by  which  we  are  delivered  from  those  desperate  mischiefs, 
and  obtain  these  excellent  advantages  ? 

We  should  all  (certainly)  choose  the  favor  and  applause  of 
men  :  but  this,  God  also  knows,  would  corrupt  our  minds  with 
vain  conceit,  would  intoxicate  our  fancies  with  spurious  plea- 
sure, would  tempt  us  to  ascribe  immoderately  to  ourselves,  and 
sacrilegiously  to  deprive  God  of  his  due  honor.  Therefore  he 
advisedly  suffers  us  to  incur  the  disgrace  and  displeasure,  the 
hatred  and  contempt  of  men  ;  that  so  we  may  place  our  glory 
only  in  the  hopes  of  his  favor,  and  may  pursue  more  earnestly 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


211 


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  considering  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  employments  which  we  are  more  capable  to 
manage. 

We  should  perhaps  insolently  abuse  power,  were  it  com- 
mitted to  us  :  we  should  employ  great  parts  on  unwieldy  pro- 
jects, as  many  do,  to  the  disturbance  of  others,  and  their  own 
ruin  :  vast  knowlege  would  cause  us  to  overvalue  ourselves  and 
contemn  others :  enjoying  continual  health,  we  should  not  per- 
ceive the  benefit  thereof,  nor  be  mindful  of  him  that  gave  it. 
A  suitable  mediocrity  therefore  of  these  things  the  divine  good- 
ness 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  were  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  re- 
joice in,  and  to  be  very  thankful  for,  all  the  crosses  and  vexa- 
tions 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  goodwill  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  corpo- 
real and  temporal  benefits,  but  also  (and  that  principally)  for 
spiritual  and  eternal  blessings.  We  are  apt,  as  to  desire  more 
vehemently,  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  misbe- 
have 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  sub- 
stance, excel  this  feculent  lump  of  organised  clay,  our  body  ; 
as  the  blissful  ravishments  of  spirit  surpass  the  dull  satisfactions 


212 


BARROW. — SERMON  IX. 


of  sense ;  as  the  bottomless  depth  of  eternity  exceeds  that  shal- 
low surface  of  time,  which  terminates  this  transitory  life  ;  in 
such  proportion  should  our  appetite  unto,  our  complacence 
in,  our  gratitude  for  spiritual  blessings  transcend  the  affec- 
tions (respectively)  engaged  about  these  corporeal  accommo- 
dations. 

Consider  that  injunction  of  our  Saviour  to  his  disciples  : 
'  In  this  rejoice  not,  that  the  spirits  are  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,  glorious 
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  favor,  in  order  to  your  eternal 
felicity,  doth  afford. 

We  are,  it  is  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  unex- 
pressible  love  and  grace  therein  declared ;  for  his  descending  to 
a  conjunction  with  our  nature,  and  elevating  us  to  a  participa- 
tion of  his  ;  for  dignifying  us  with  more  illustrious  titles,  and 
instating  us  in  a  sure  capacity  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  hea- 
venly manna,  the  evangelical  verity;  those  savory  delicacies  of 
devotion,  whereby  our  souls  are  nourished  to  eternal  life?  It 
is  a  laudable  custom,  when  we  are  demanded  concerning  our 
health,  to  answer,  '  well,  I  thank  God;'  but  much  more  rea- 
son have  we  to  say  so,  if  our  conscience  can  attest  concerning 
that  sound  constitution  of  mind  whereby  we  are  disposed  vi- 
gorously to  perform  those  virtuous  functions,  due  from  reason- 
able nature,  and  conformable  to  the  divine  law.  If  for  the  pros- 
perous success  of  our  worldly  attempts ;  for  avoiding  dangers, 
that  threatened  corporal  pain  and  damage  to  us ;  for  defeating 
the  adversaries  of  our  secular  quiet,  we  make  Te  Deum  laxida- 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


•213 


mus  our  kxivUiav,  (our  song  for  victory ;)  how  much  more 
for  the  happy  progress  of  our  spiritual  affairs,  (affairs  of  in- 
comparably highest  consequence  ;)  for  escaping  those  dreadful 
hazards  of  utter  ruin,  of  endless  torture  ;  for  vanquishing  sin 
and  hell,  those  irreconcileable  enemies  to  our  everlasting 
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  consi- 
deration of  God's  mercy  in  pardoning  his  sins  ;  then  proceeds 
to  his  goodness  in  bestowing  temporal  favors.  '  Who  forgiveth 
all  thy  sins,'  leads  the  van;  'who  satisfieth  thy  mouth  with 
good  things,'  brings  up  the  rear  in  the  enumeration  and  ac- 
knowlegement  of  God's  benefits.  That  our  minds  are  illustrated 
with  the  knowlege  of  God  and  his  glorious  attributes  of  Christ 
and  his  blessed  gospel,  of  that  straight  path  which  conducteth 
to  true  happiness  ;  that  by  divine  assistance  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  mysteries,  or  to  subjugate  empires 
by  our  bodily  strength.  The  forgiveness  of  our  sins  doth  more 
oblige  us  to  a  grateful  acknowlegement  of  the  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  favorable  countenance  should  more  inflame  our  affections, 
than  being  invested  with  all  the  imaginable  splendor  of  worldly 
glory. 

Of  these  inestimable  benefits,  and  all  the  advantageous  cir- 
cumstances wherewith  they  are  attended,  we  ought  to  maintain 
in  our  hearts  constant  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)  prosecuted  the  several  particulars 
observable  in  these  words.  I  should  conclude  with  certain  in- 
ducements persuasive  to  the  practice  of  this  duty ;  whereof  I 


214 


BARROW. — SERMON  IX. 


have  in  the  tenor  both  of  the  former  and  present  discourse  in- 
sinuated divers,  and  could  propound  many  more  :  but  (in  com- 
pliance with  the  time)  I  shall  content  myself  briefly  to  con- 
sider only  these  three  very  obvious  ones. 

I.  First,  therefore,  we  may  consider  that  there  is  no  disposition 
whatever  more  deeply  radicated  in  the  original  constitution  of 
all  souls  endued  with  any  kind  of  perception  or  passion,  than 
being  sensible  of  benefits  received  ;  being  kindly  affected  with 
love  and  respect  toward  them  that  exhibit  them  ;  being  ready 
with  suitable  expressions  to  acknowlege  them,  and  to  endeavor 
competent  recompenses  for  them.  The  worst  of  men,  the  most 
devoid  of  all  not  only  piety,  but  humanity  and  common  inge- 
nuity, the  most  barbarous  and  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  Saviour  :  '  If,'  saith 
he,  '  ye  do  good  to  those  who  do  good  to  you,  what  thanks  is 
it  ?  for  even  sinners  (that  is,  men  of  apparently  lewd  and  dis- 
solute conversation)  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  wildest  also  and  fiercest  of  them,  (the 
untameable  lion,  the  cruel  tiger  and  ravenous  bear,  as  stories 
tell  us,  and  experience  attests,)  bear  some  kindness,  show  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  dis- 
charge 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  vapor ;  and 
the  earth  by  a  fruitful  increase  repays  the  culture  bestowed 
thereon  ;  if  not,  (as  the  Apostle  to  the  Hebrews  doth  pro- 
nounce,) it  deserves  'cursing'  and  'reprobation.'  So  mon- 
strous a  thing,  and  universally  abominable  to  nature,  is  all  in 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


215 


gratitude.  And  how  execrable  a  prodigy  is  it  then  toward 
God,  from  whom  alone  we  receive  whatever  we  enjoy,  what- 
ever we  can  expect  of  good  ? 

II.  The  second  obligation  to  this  duty  is  most  just  and  equal. 
For,  (as  he*  said  well,)  beneficium  qui  dare  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  secu- 
rity, 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  performance  of  con- 
tracts,) 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  committed  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  ?  Excepta 
Macedonum  gente,  saith  Seneca,  non  est  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  among  the 
Persians  also  there  were  judgments  assigned,  and  punishments 
appointed  for  ingratitude.)  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  prostitute 
all  our  earthly  contents  to  his  service  ;  since  he  did  but  revoke 
his  own,  it  were  great  injustice  to  refuse  compliance  with  his 


*  Laberius. 


216 


BARROW. — SERMON  IX. 


demands  :  how  much  more,  when  he  only  expects  from  us  and 
requires  some  few  acknowlegements  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  com- 
mands? 

III.  Thirdly,  this  is  a  most  sweet  and  delightful  duty.  'Praise 
the  Lord,'  saith  the  most  experienced  psalmist,  'for  the  Lord 
is  good ;  sing  praises  to  his  name,  for  it  is  pleasant :'  and 
otherwhere,  '  Praise  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 
humor  and  a  cheerful  disposition  of  mind  ;  so  it  feeds  and  fo- 
ments them ;  both  root  and  fruit  thereof  are  hugely  sweet  and 
sapid.  Whence  St.  James  ;  '  If  any  man  be  afflicted,  let  him 
pray ;  is  any  merry,  let  him  sing  psalms.'  (Psalms,  the  proper 
matter  of  which  is  praise  and  thanksgiving.) 

Other  duties  of  devotion  have  something  laborious  in  them, 
something  disgustful  to  our  sense.  Prayer  minds  us  of  our 
wants  and  imperfections;  confession  induces  a  sad  remem- 
brance of  our  misdeeds  and  bad  deserts  :  but  thanksgiving  in- 
cludes 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  kind- 
ness towards  us  ?  That  we  are  in  capacity  to  honor,  to  please, 
to  present  an  acceptable  sacrifice  to  him,  who  can  render  us 
perfectly  happy  1  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  thanksgiving  are  the 
most  delectable  business  of  heaven ;  and  God  grant  they  may 
be  our  greatest  delight,  our  most  frequent  employment  on 
earth. 

To  these  I  might  add  such  farther  considerations  :  That  this 


THE  DUTY  OF  THANKSGIVING. 


•217 


duty  is  of  all  most  acceptable  to  God,  and  most  profitable  to 
us.  That  gratitude  for  benefits  procures  more,  disposing  God 
to  bestow,  and  qualifying  us  to  receive  them.  That  the  se- 
rious performance  of  this  duty  efficaciously  promotes  and  faci- 
litates 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,  by  obedience  to  his  commandments.  What  St. 
Chrysostom  saith  of  prayer,  It  is  impossible  that  he,  who  with 
competent  promptitude  of  mind  doth  constantly  apply  himself 
thereto,  should  ever  sin,  is  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  circum- 
stances of  the  divine  beneficence  mightily  strengthen  the  obli- 
gation 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  reli- 
gion, (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  acknowlegement  of  their  benefits ;  the  Jewish  more 
than  half  in  eucharistical  oblations,  and  in  solemn  commemo- 
rations of  providential  favors  ;  and  that  of  the  ancient  Chris- 
tians so  far  forth,  that  bye-standers  could  hardly  discern  any 
other  thing  in  their  religious  practice,  than  that  they  sang 
hymns  to  Christ,  and  by  mutual  sacraments  obliged  themselves 
to  abstain  from  all  villainy.  But  I  will  rather  wholly  omit  the 
prosecution  of  these  pregnant  arguments,  than  be  farther  offen- 
sive to  your  patience. 

Now  the  blessed  Fountain  of  all  goodness  ajid  mercy  in- 
spire our  hearts  with  his  heavenly  grace,  and  thereby  enable  us 
rightly  to  apprehend,  diligently  to  consider,  faithfully  to  re- 
member, worthily  to  esteem,  to  be  heartily  affected  with,  to 
render  all  due  acknowlegement,  praise,  love,  and  thankful 

*  Vid.  diviniss.  Chrys.  locum  torn.  v.  p.  76. 
BAH.  vol.  I.  K 


2L8  BARROW.— SERMON  IX. 

obedience  for  all  his  (infinitely  great  and  innumerable  many) 
favors,  mercies,  and  benefits  freely  conferred  on  us  :  and  let  us 
say  with  David,  '  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  who  only 
doth  wondrous  things :  and  blessed  be  his  glorious  name  for 
ever  ;  and  let  the  whole  earth  be  filled  with  his  glory.'  '  Bles- 
sed be  the  Lord  God  of  Israel  from  everlasting  to  everlasting  : 
and  let  all  the  people  say,  Amen.' 


SERMON  X. 


218 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  X. 

I  TIMOTHY,  CHAP.  II. — VERSES  1.  2. 

From  St.  Paul's  observations  in  the  preceding  chapter,  and 
in  that  from  which  the  text  is  taken,  we  may  collect  two  par- 
ticulars. 1.  That  the  making  of  prayers  for  kings  is  a  Chris- 
tian duty  of  great  importance.  2.  That  it  is  incumbent  on 
the  pastors  of  the  church  to  take  especial  care  that  this  duty  be 
performed  both  publicly  in  their  congregations,  and  privately 
in  the  retirement  of  each  Christian.  The  first  of  these  parti- 
culars pressed  by  several  considerations. 

I.  The  Apostle  exhorts  Christians  to  pray  for  kings  with  all 
sorts  of  prayer  ;  with  deprecations  for  averting  evils  from  them, 
with  petitions  for  obtaining  good  things  for  them,  with  occa- 
sional intercessions  for  needful  gifts  and  graces  to  be  collated 
on  them:  to  all  this  we  are  obliged  on  divers  accounts.  1. 
Common  charity  should  dispose  us  to  pray  for  kings.  This 
Christian  disposition  inclines  to  universal  benevolence,  accord- 
ing to  that  apostolical  precept,  as  we  have  opportunity,  let  us  do 
good  unto  all  men :  it  consequently  will  incline  us  to  pray  for 
all  men.  2.  This  is  the  only  way  that  most  of  us  may  have 
to  benefit  those  who  are  in  so  high  a  station  above  us,  and  out  of 
the  reach  of  private  beneficence.  3.  We  are  bound  to  pray  for 
kings  from  charity  to  the  public  ;  because  their  good  is  a  ge- 
neral good,  and  the  communities  of  men,  both  church  and  state, 
are  greatly  concerned  in  the  blessings  by  prayer  derived  on 
them  :  this  point  illustrated  by  many  arguments  and  examples 


•2-20 


SUMMARY  OF 


from  holy  Scripture :  our  obligation  to  love  our  country  en- 
larged on,  as  a  very  noble  piece  of  charity :  4.  consequently 
our  own  interest,  and  charity  to  ourselves  should  dispose  us  to 
pray  for  our  prince.  We  are  nearly  concerned  in  his  welfare, 
as  parts  of  the  public  ;  we  cannot  but  partake  of  his  good,  we 
cannot  but  suffer  with  him  :  consideration  on  this  point  sug- 
gested by  holy  Scripture.  5.  We  should  consider  that  sub- 
jects are  obliged  in  gratitude,  equity,  and  justice  to  perform 
this  duty ;  for  kings  are  most  nearly  related  and  allied  to  u* 
by  the  most  sacred  bonds;  being  constituted  by  God,  in  his 
own  room,  parents  and  guardians  of  their  country,  being  also 
avowed  and  accepted  for  such  by  solemn  vows  and  most  holy- 
sacraments  of  allegiance  ;  whence  unto  them  we  owe  a  humble 
piety  and  dutiful  observance;  which  cannot  be  better  expressed 
than  in  our  heartiest  prayers  for  their  welfare  :  this  point  en- 
larged on.  6.  Whereas  we  are  by  divine  command  fre- 
quently enjoined  to  fear  and  reverence,  to  honor  and  obey 
kings,  we  should  look  on  prayer  for  them  as  a  principal  branch 
and  the  neglect  thereof  as  a  notable  breach  of  those  duties  ; 
for  as  to  honor,  nothing  can  so  demonstrate  it  as  the  wishing 
them  well  in  our  hearts,  and  thence  framing  addresses  to  the 
divine  majesty  for  their  welfare  :  and  as  for  obedience,  prayer 
for  princes  is  clearly  an  instance  thereof,  since  it  may  be  sup- 
posed that  all  princes  do  require  it  from  their  subjects.  7. 
The  praying  for  them  is  a  service  peculiarly  honorable,  and 
very  acceptable  to  God,  which  he  will  interpret  as  a  great  re- 
spect done  to  himself ;  for  thereby  we  honor  his  image  and 
character  in  them.  8.  Wisdom  inclines  us  to  place  our  de- 
votion where  it  will  be  most  needful  and  useful.  Their  office 
is  most  high  and  hard  to  discharge  well  or  happily,  wherefore 
they  need  extraordinary  supplies  from  the  divine  bounty  :  their 
affairs  are  of  greatest  weight  and  importance ;  their  delibera- 
tions are  about  matters  of  dark  and  uncertain  consequence ; 
their  enterprises  are  commonly  such  as  are  of  greatest  difficulty ; 


SERMON  X. 


•221 


they  are  most  exposed  to  dangers  and  disasters ;  they  have 
the  natural  infirmities  of  other  men,  and  are  far  beyond  them 
subject  to  temptations  :  wherefore  if  we  love  them,  our  country, 
or  ourselves,  if  we  regard  the  interests  of  truth,  of  piety,  or  the 
common  good,  we  shall  not  fail  to  pray  that  God  will  afford 
them  needful  assistance  in  the  administration  of  their  high 
office.  9.  Whereas  God  has  declared  that  he  hath  a  special 
regard  to  princes,  as  his  representatives,  the  ministers  of  his 
kingdom,  and  this  for  the  benefit  of  mankind,  which  is  mainly 
concerned  in  their  welfare,  on  that  account  our  prayers  for  them 
are  the  more  required  ;  for  it  is  a  method  of  God,  not  to  dis- 
pense special  blessings  without  particular  conditions,  and  the 
concurrence  of  our  duty  in  observing"  his  commands.  10.  To 
engage  and  encourage  us  in  this  practice  we  may  farther  con- 
sider that  such  prayers  duly  offered  with  fervency  and  con- 
stancy, sincerity  and  zeal,  do  never  want  effect ;  which,  if  it  be 
not  always  discernible,  is  certainly  real,  if  not  as  perfect  as  we 
desire,  as  competent  as  the  condition  of  things  will  bear :  this 
subject  enlarged  on  :  the  general  efficacy  of  prayer  considered  : 
our  reasonable  hopes  in  the  present  instance.  11.  Another 
general  consideration  is,  that  prayer  is  the  only  allowable  way 
of  redressing  our  case,  if  we  suffer  by  or  for  princes  :  this  point 
enlarged  on  :  precepts  of  St.  Paul  considered :  God's  provi- 
dence stated  as  the  only  sure  ground  of  our  confidence  or  hope 
for  the  preservation  of  church  and  state.  12.  Seeing  then 
that  there  are  so  many  good  arguments  and  motives  for  indu- 
cing us  to  pray  for  kings,  it  is  no  wonder  that,  to  back  them, 
we  may  also  allege  the  continual  practice  of  the  church,  in  all 
times  performing  this  duty  in  its  most  sacred  offices.  Exhor- 
tation of  St.  Paul  on  this  head  :  practice  of  the  church  in  this 
respect,  as  related  by  Tertullian  :  also  as  related  by  St.  Chry- 
sostom :  prayers  for  the  emperors  were  inserted  in  the  Greek 
liturgies :  reasons  why  the  offices  of  the  Romish  church,  and 
of  those  which  truckled  to  it  in  latter  times,  were  defective  in 


2-2-2 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  X. 


this  point  of  service :  ample  manner  in  which  our  own  church 
performs  this  duty. 

Besides  these  general  inducements  to  this  duty,  there  are 
particular  reasons  which  inforce  it  in  the  present  season.  Times 
of  danger  and  distress,  of  guilt  and  deserved  wrath,  are  most 
seasonable  for  recourse  to  the  divine  help  and  mercy  in  prayer: 
the  gloomy  days,  the  dissensions  and  animosities  of  parties,  the 
universal  licentiousness  of  all  ranks,  the  general  contempt  of 
religious  duties,  and  the  heavy  judgments  that  may  be  expected, 
dilated  on.  This  first  duty,  prayer  for  kings,  has  been  thus 
largely  insisted  on,  by  reason  of  its  seasonableness  to  the  pre- 
sent times. 

II.  The  other,  that  of  thanksgiving,  need  only  be  lightly 
touched.  For, 

1,  As  to  general  inducements,  they  are  the  same,  or  very 
like  to  those  which  apply  to  prayer  ;  it  beins  plain,  that  what- 
ever we  are  concerned  to  pray  for,  when  we  want  it,  for  that 
we  are  bound  to  thank  God,  when  he  vouchsafes  to  bestow  it. 
2.  As  for  particular  motives,  no  one  can  be  ignorant  or  in- 
sensible of  the  grand  benefits  by  the  divine  goodness  bestowed 
on  the  king  and  on  the  nation,  which  this  day  call  for  grateful 
acknowlegement.  The  recital  therefore  of  trite  stories  and  ob- 
vious reasons  being  omitted,  all  are  requested  to  practise  this 
duty,  and  to  join  in  the  concluding  acclamations  of  praise  and 
thanksgiving  to  God. 


ON  THE  KING'S  HAPPY  RETURN. 


223 


SERMON  X. 
ON  THE  KING'S  HAPPY  RETURN. 


I  TIMOTHY,  CHAP.  II. — VERSES  1.  2. 

I  exhort  therefore,  that,  first  of  all,  supplications,  prayers,  inter- 
cessions, and  giving  of  thanks,  be  made  for  all  men  :  for  kings, 
and  for  all  that  are  in  authority. 

Saint  Paul  in  his  preceding  discourse  having  insinuated  di- 
rections to  his  scholar  and  spiritual  son,  Timothy,  concerning 
the  discharge  of  his  office,  of  instructing  men  in  their  duty  ac- 
cording to  the  evangelical  doctrine ;  (the  main  design  whereof 
he  teacheth  to  consist,  not  (as  some  men  conceited)  in  fond 
stories,  or  '  vain  speculations,'  but  in  practice  of  substantial 
duties,  holding  a  '  sincere  faith,'  maintaining  a  '  good  con- 
science,' 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  particularly  for  kings  and  ma- 
gistrates. From  whence  we  may  collect  two  particulars.  1. 
That  the  making  of  '  prayers  for  kings'  is  a  Christian  duty  of 
great  importance.  (St.  Paul  judging  fit  to  exhort  thereto 
irpwrov  wavTtov,  'before  all  other  things;'  or  to  '  exhort  that 
before  all  things  '  it  should  be  performed.)  2.  That  it  is  in- 
cumbent on  the  pastors  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  Apos- 


■22i 


BARROW. —  SERMON  X. 


tie,  after  the  proposing  divers  enforcements  of  this  duty,  sub- 
sumeth  in  the  eighth  verse ;  '  I  will  therefore,  that  men  pray 
everywhere,  lifting  up  holy  hands,  without  wrath  or  doubting.' 

The  first  of  these  particulars,  that  it  is  a  duty  of  great  im- 
portance '  to  pray  for  kings,'  I  shall  insist  on  :  it  being  indeed 
now  very  fit  and  seasonable  to  urge  the  practice  of  it,  when  it 
is  perhaps  commonly  not  much  considered,  or  not  well  ob- 
served ;  and  when  there  is  most  need  of  it,  in  regard  to  the 
effects  and  consequences  which  may  proceed  from  the  conscion- 
able  discharge  of  it. 

My  endeavor  therefore  shall  be  to  press  it  by  divers  consi- 
derations, 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  ber'jaeis,  or  '  deprecations,'  for 
averting  evils  from  them  ;  with  npoaev-^ul,  or  '  petitions,'  for 
obtaining  good  things  to  them  ;  with  evrevltis,  or  '  occasional 
intercessions/  for  needful  gifts  and  graces  to  be  collated  on 
them  :  as,  after  St.  Austin,  interpreters,  in  expounding  St. 
Paul's  words,  commonly  distinguish ;  how  accurately,  I  shall 
not  discuss :  it  sufficing,  that  assuredly  the  Apostle  meaneth, 
under  this  variety  of  expression,  to  comprehend  all  kinds  of 
prayer.  And  to  this  I  say  we  are  obliged  on  divers  ac- 
counts. 

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  ex- 
erting 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  other- 
wise can  benefit  many  :  some  men  otherwise  can  benefit  none  : 
but  in  this  way  any  man  is  able  to  benefit  all,  or  unconfinedly 
to  oblige  mankind,  deriving  on  any  somewhat  of  God's  immense 
beneficence.    By  performing  this  good  office,  at  the  expense  of 


ON  THE  KING'S  HAPPY  RETURN. 


228 


a  few  good  wishes  addressed  to  the  sovereign  Goodness,  the 
poorest  may  prove  benefactors  to  the  richest,  the  meanest  to  the 
highest,  the  weakest  to  the  mightiest  of  men  :  so  we  may  bene- 
fit 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  excluded.  For  if, 
because  all  men  are  our  fellow-creatures,  and  brethren  by  the 
same  heavenly  Father  :  because  all  men  are  allied  to  us  by  cog- 
nation and  similitude  of  nature ;  because  all  men  are  the  ob- 
jects of  God's  particular  favor  and  care  :  if,  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  de- 
sire of  God,  are  designed  for  a  consortship  in  the  same  blessed 
inheritance  ;  (which  inforcements  St.  Paul  in  the  context  doth 
intimate  :)  if,  in  line,  because  all  men  do  need  prayers,  and  are 
capable  of  benefit  from  tbem,  we  should  be  charitably  disposed 
to  pray  for  them  :  then  must  we  also  pray  for  kings,  who,  even 
in  their  personal  capacity,  as  men,  do  share  in  all  those  condi- 
tions. 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  charity  should  dispose  us. 

Indeed,  even  on  this  account  we  may  say,  especially  '  for 
kings;'  the  law  of  general  charity  with  peculiar  advantage 
being  applicable  to  them  :  for  that  law  commonly  is  expressed 
with  reference  to  our  neighbor,  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  es- 
pecially. For  whereas  the  greatest  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- 
cerns :  who  therefore  in  the  strictest  acception  are  our  neigh- 


226 


BARROW. — SERMON  X. 


bors,  whom  we  are  charged  to  love  as  ourselves;  to  whom  con- 
sequently we  must  perform  this  most  charitable  office  of  praying 
for  them. 

2.  To  impress  which  consideration,  we  may  reflect  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  ad- 
vice, 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  favor  toward 
him,  to  the  prayers  of  his  meanest  vassal.  And  thus  to  oblige 
princes,  methinks,  we  should  be  very  desirous ;  we  should  be 
glad  to  use  such  an  advantage,  we  should  be  ambitious  of  such 
an  honor. 

3.  We  are  bound  to  pray  for  kings  out  of  charity  to  the  pub- 
lic ;  because  their  good  is  a  general  good,  and  the  communities 
of  men  (both  church  and  state)  are  greatly  concerned  in  the 
blessings  by  prayer  derived  on  them. 

The  safety  of  a  prince  is  a  great  part  of  the  common  wel- 
fare ;  the  commonwealth,  as  it  were,  living  and  breathing  in 
him  :  his  fall,  like  that  of  a  tall  cedar,  (to  which  he  is  com- 
pared,) shaking  the  earth  and  discomposing  the  state;  putting 
things  out  of  course,  and  drawing  them  into  new  channels; 
translating  the  administration  of  affairs  into  untried  hands,  and 
an  uncertain  condition.  Hence,  '  let  the  king  live,'  (which 
our  translators  render,  '  God  save  the  king,')  was  an  usual  form 

*  Privatorum  ista  copia  est,  inter  se  esse  munificos. — Auson.  ad 
G  rati  an. 

Absit,  An^iiste,  et  istuil  sancta  divinifas  onion  averlat,  ut  tu  a 
quoquam  mortalium  expectes  viccm  bencficii  — Mamerc.  ad  Julian. 


ON  THE  KING'S  HAPPY  RETURN. 


229 


of  salutation  or  prayer  :  and,  *  O  king  live  for  ever,'  was  a 
customary  address  to  princes,  whereto  the  best  men  did  con- 
form, even  in  application  to  none  of  the  best  princes  ;  as  Nehe- 
miah  to  king  Artaxerxes,  and  Daniel  to  king  Darius.  Hence 
not  only  good  king  David  is  called  '  the  light  of  Israel ;'  ('  Thou 
shalt  not,'  said  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  he,  '  of  our  nostrils,  the  anointed 
of  the  Lord,  was  taken  in  their  pits.')  Hence  not  only  the  fall 
of  good  king  Josiah  was  so  grievously  lamented ;  but  a  solemn 
mourning  was  due  to  that  of  Saul ;  and,  '  Ye  daughters  of  Je- 
rusalem, weep  for  Saul,'  was  a  strain  becoming  the  mouth  of 
his  great  successor  king  David.  Hence  the  primitive  Chris- 
tians, who  could  not  be  constrained  to  swear  by  the  genius  of 
Caesar,  did  not  yet,  in  compliance  with  the  usual  practice, 
scruple  to  swear  by  their  health  or  safety  :*  that  is,  to  express 
their  wishing  it,  with  appeal  to  God's  testimony  of  their  since- 
rity therein  ;  as  Joseph  may  be  conceived  to  have  sworn  '  by 
the  life  of  Pharaoh.'  Hence  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  honor  likewise  of  a  prince  is  the  glory  of  his  people ; 
seeing  it  is  founded  on  qualities  or  deeds  tending  to  their  ad- 
vantage ;  seeing  it  can  hardly  be  supposed  that  he  should  ac- 
quire honor  without  their  aid  and  concurrence,  or  that  he  should 
retain  it  without -their  support  and  their  satisfaction.  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  tlte  supports  and  se- 
curities of  a  state ;  he  thereby  being  enabled  to  uphold  and 
defend  its  safety,  its  order,  its  peace ;  to  protect  his  people 

*  Sed  et  juramus,  sicut  non  per  genios  Ca?sarum,  ita  per  salutein 
eoruni,  qua?  est  augustior  omnibus  geniis. — Tert,  Apol.  cap.  xxxii. 


228 


BARROW. — SERMON  X. 


from  foreign  injuries  and  invasions;  to  secure  them  from  in- 
testine 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  tlirivjng 
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  disastrous  occur- 
rences, the  public  state  must  be  serene,  and  a  pleasant  state  of 
things  will  appear.  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  con- 
sequence, and  yieldeth  infinite  benefit  to  his  country.  For, 
vita  principis  censura  est;  the  life  of  a  prince  is  a  calling  of 
other  men's  lives  to  an  account.  His  example  hath  an  unspeak- 
able 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  dispensa- 
tion of  honors  and  rewards,  with  the  infliction  of  ignominies 
and  corrections,  being  in  his  hand,  and  passing  from  it  accord- 
ing to  his  inclinations.  His  power  is  the  shield  of  innocence, 
the  fence  of  right,  the  shelter  of  weakness  and  simplicity 
against  violences  and  frauds.  His  very  look  (a  smile  or  a  frown 
of  his  countenance)  is  sufficient  to  advance  goodness,  and  sup- 
press wickedness ;  according  to  that  of  Solomon,  '  A  king 
sitting  in  the  throne  of  judgment  scattereth  away  all  evil  with 
his  eyes.'  His  goodness  pleasing  God  procureth  his  favor,  and 
therewith  deduceth  from  heaven  all  kinds  of  blessings  on  his 

*  Flexibiles  in  quamcunque  partem  ducimur  a  principe,  atque, 
lit  ita  dicara,  sequaces  sumus.  Huic  enim  chari,  Imic  probati  esse 
cupimus  ;  quod  frustra  speraverint  dissimiles.  Eoque  obsequii  con- 
tinuations pervenimus,  ut  prope  omnes  homines  unius  moiibus  \i- 
vamus. — Plin  Paneg. 

Vita  principis  censura  est,  eaque  perpetua  ;  ad  banc  dirigimur,  ad 
banc  couvertimur ;  nec  tarn  imperio  nobis  opus  est  quam  exemplo. — 
Ibid. 


ON  THE  KING'S  HAPPY  RETURN. 


220 


people.  And  if  those  politic  aphorisms  of  the  wise  man  be 
true,  that  '  righteousness  exalteth  a  nation  anil  established  a 
throne  ;'  that  '  when  it  goeth  well  with  the  righteous,  the  city 
rejoiceth  ;'  and  '  the  same  by  the  blessing  of  the  upright  is  ex- 
alted :'  then  on  his  inclinations  to  virtue  the  advancement  and 
stability  of  public  welfare  do  mainly  depend.  So,  for  instance, 
how  did  piety  florish  in  the  times  of  David,  who  loved,  favored, 
and  practised  it !  and  what  abundance  of  prosperity  did  attend 
it !  What  showers  of  blessings  (what  peace,  what  wealth,  what 
credit  and  glory)  did  God  then  pour  down  on  Israel !  How 
did  the  goodness  of  that  prince  transmit  favors  and  mercies  on 
his  country  till  a  long  time  after  his  decease  !  How  often  did 
God  profess  '  for  his  servant  David's  sake'  to  preserve  Judah 
from  destruction  ;  so  that  even  in  the  days  of  Hezekiah,  when 
the  king  of  Assyria  did  invade  that  country,  God  by  the  mouth 
of  Isaiah  declared,  '  I  will  defend  this  city  to  save  it  for  mine 
own  sake,  and  for  my  servant  David's  sake.' 

We  may  indeed  observe  that,  according  to  the  representa- 
tion of  things  in  holy  Scripture,  there  is  a  kind  of  moral  con- 
nexion, 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  favor,  (suffering 
him  to  incur  sin,  or  to  fall  into  misfortune  ;  which  was  the 
case  of  that  incomparably  good  king  Josiah,  and  hath  been  the 
fate  of  divers  excellent  princes,  whom  God  hath  snatched  away 
from  people  unworthy  of  them,  or  involved  with  such  a  people 
in  common  calamities;  according  to  the  rule  propounded  in  the 
law,  of  God's  dealing  with  the  Israelites  in  the  case  of  their 
disobedience;  and  according  to  that  of  Samuel,  '  If  ye  shall 
do  wickedly,  ye  shall  be  consumed,  both  ye  and  your  king :') 
so  reciprocally,  for  the  misdemeanors  of  princes,  (or  in  them, 
and  by  them,)  God  doth  chastise  their  people.  For  what  con- 
fusions in  Israel  did  the  offences  of  Solomon  create !  What 
mischiefs  did  issue  thereon  from  Jeroboam's  wicked  behavior  ! 
How  did  the  sins  of  Manasseh  stick  to  his  country,  since  that, 
even  after  that  notable  reformation  wrought  by  Josiah,  it  is 
said,  '  Notwithstanding  the  Lord  turned  not  from  the  fierceness 


230 


E ARROW.  —  SERMON  X. 


of  his  great  wrath,  wherewith  his  anger  was  kindled  against 
Judah,  because  of  all  the  provocations  wherewith  Manasseh 
had  provoked  him  !'  And  how  sorely,  by  a  tedious  three 
years  famine,  did  God  avenge  Saul's  cruelty  toward  the 
Gibeonites  ! 

Nor  are  only  the  sins  of  bad  princes  affixed  to  people  con- 
spiring with  them  in  impiety ;  for  even  of  king  Hezekiah  it  is 
said,  '  But  Hezekiah  rendered  not  again  according  to  the  be- 
nefit done  unto  him  ;  for  his  heart  was  lifted  up :  therefore 
there  was  wrath  on  him,  and  on  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,  became 
'  a  cause  of  trespass  to  Israel ;'  and  '  God,'  saith  the  text,  '  was 
displeased  with  this  thing ;  therefore  he  smote  Israel.' 

David  indeed  seemed  to  apprehend  some  iniquity  in  this 
proceeding,  expostulating  thus,  '  Is  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  judgment  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  provi- 
dence 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  fer- 
vency, would  in  their  behalf  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  rea- 
sonably might  presume  that  God  by  his  grace  would  direct 
them  into  the  right  way,  and  incline  their  hearts  to  goodness  ; 
that  he  would  accomplish  his  own  word  in  the  prophet,  '  I  will 


ON  THE  KING'S  HAPPY  RETURN. 


23 1 


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  heart,  to  beautify  the  house  of  the 
Lord  which  is  in  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  blameable  for  it:  that  it  is  an  impious  people  which 
maketh  an  unhappy  prince ;  that  their  offences  do  pervert  his 
counsels,  and  blast  his  undertakings;  that  their  profaneness 
and  indevotion  do  incense  God's  displeasure,  and  cause  him  to 
desert  princes,  withdrawing  his  gracious  conduct  from  them, 
and  permitting  them  to  be  misled  by  temptation,  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 
•  speaking  unadvisedly  with  his  lips,'  and  that  '  it  went  ill  with 
him  for  their  sakes ;'  of  Aaron's  forming  the  molten  calf ;  of 
David's  numbering  the  people;  of  Josiah's  unadvised  enter- 
prise against  Pharaoh  Neco ;  of  Zedekiah's  rebellion  against 
the  Assyrians,  (notwithstanding  the  strong  dissuasions  of  the 
prophet  Jeremy ;)  concerning  which  it  is  said,  '  for  through 
the  anger  of  the  Lord  it  came  to  pass  in  Jerusalem  and  Judah, 
until  lie  had  cast  them  out  from  his  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  honor,  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 
welfare,  we  do  in  consequence  pray  for  the  good  of  all  our 
neighbors,  our  friends,  our  relations,  our  families ;  whose  good 
is  wrapped  in  his  welfare,  doth  flow  from  it,  doth  hang  on  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  of  the  psalmist :  '  O  pray  for  the  peace  of  Jeru- 
salem ;  they  shall  prosper  that  love  thee.    Peace  be  within 


BARROW.— SERMON  X. 


thy  walls,  and  prosperity  within  thy  palaces.'  We  are  obliged 
more  especially  on  the  highest  accounts,  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  favor  toward  it ;  being  ready  to  say  after  David,  *  Do 
good,  O  God,  in  thy  good  pleasure  to  Sion :  build  thou  the 
walls  of  Jerusalem.'  •  Arise,  O  Lord,  and  have  mercy  on  Sion  ; 
for  the  time  to  favor  her,  yea  the  set  time  is  come.'  Now 
these  duties  we  cannot  more  easily,  more  compendiously,  or 
more  effectually  discharge,  than  by  earnestly  praying  for  our 
prince ;  seeing  that  if  we  do  by  our  prayers  procure  God's 
favor  to  him,  we  do  certainly  draw  it  on  the  state,  and  the 
church.  If  God,  moved  by  our  devout  importunities,  shall 
please  to  guard  his  person  from  dangers,  and  to  '  grant  him  a 
Jong  life  ;'  to  endue  his  heart  with  grace,  with  the  love  and 
fear  of  himself,  with  a  zeal  of  furthering  public  good,  of  favor- 
ing 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  undertakings  with  good  success  : 
then  assuredly  we  have  much  promoted  the  public  interest ; 
then  infallibly,  together  with  these,  all  other  blessings  shall 
descend  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  salutary  to  all,  both  to  thee 
for  thy  happiness,  and  to  us  for  our  quiet.'* 

4.  Wherefore  consequently  our  own  interest  and  charity  to 
ourselves  should  dispose  us  to  pray  for  our  prince.  A\  e  being 
nearly  concerned  in  his  welfare,  as  parts  of  the  public,  and  as 
enjoying  many  private  advantages  thereby ;   we  cannot  but 

*  Cui  nos  quotidianis  precibus  supplieamns,  ut  te  imprimis,  qnem 
rerum  custodem  voluit  esse,  custodiat;  deinde  inspiret  tibi  volunta- 
teru,  qua  semper  in  amore  diviui  nominis  perseveres ;  quod  est  om- 
nibus salutare,  et  tibi  ad  lelicitalem,  et  nobis  ad  quietem. — Lact. 
jffi.  26. 


ON  THE  KING'S  HAPPY  RETURN. 


2:13 


partake  of  his  good,  we  cannot  but  sutler  with  hiin.  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  favor  us  therein,  or  at  least 
restrain  him  from  hindering  us.  This  is  St.  Paul's  own  con- 
sideration :  '  I  exhort  you,'  saith  he,  '  to  make  prayers  for 
kings — that  we  may  lead  a  quiet  and  peaceable  life  in  all 
godliness  and  honesty.'  On  such  an  account  God  did  com- 
mand the  Jews  to  pray  for  the  welfare  of  that  heathen  state, 
under  which  they  lived  in  captivity.  '  And  seek,'  said  he,  '  the 
peace  of  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  themselves  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  it  being  shaken,  assuredly  even  we,  how  far 
soever  we  may  be  thought  from  troubles,  are  found  in  some 
place  of  the  fall.'*  Farther, 

5.  Let  us  consider  that  subjects  are  obliged  in  gratitude 
and  ingenuity,  yea  in  equity  and  justice,  to  pray  for  their 
princes.  For, 

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 
allegiance ;  whence  unto  them  as  such  we  owe  an  humble 
piety,  a  very  respectful  affection,  a  most  dutiful  observance  ;f 
the  which  we  cannot  better  express  or  exercise,  than  in  our 
heartiest  prayers  for  their  welfare. 

•  Vobiscura  enim  concutitur  imperium:  concussis  ctiam  casteris 
membris  ejus,  utique  et  nos,  licet  extranei  a  turbis  aestimeniur,  in 
aliquo  loco  casus  invenimur. — Tert.  Apol.  cap.  xxxii. 

t  Quein  sciens  (Cbristianus)  a  Deo  suo  constitui,  necesse  est,  ut 
ct  ipsum  diligat,  et  revereatur,  et  honoret,  et  salvum  velit. — Tert. 
ad  Scap.  ii. 

Jurat  per  Deuin,  et  per  Christum,  et  per  Spiritual  S.  et  per  ma- 
jestatem  iraperatoris,  quae  secundum  Deum  geueri  humano  dili- 
genda  est,  et  colenda. — Veget.  ii.  5. 


234 


BARROW. — SERMON  X. 


They  by  God  are  destined  to  be  the  protectors  of  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 ;'  •  thou 
shalt  suck  the  breasts  of  kings  ;  kings  shall  minister  to  thee  :' 
'wherefore  to  them,  not  only  as  men  and  citizens,  but  peculi- 
arly as  Christians,  we  owe  the  highest  duty ;  and  conse- 
quently we  must  pay  the  best  devotion  for  them. 

To  them  we  stand  indebted  for  the  greatest  benefits  of  com- 
mon life  :  they  necessarily  do  take  much  care,  they  undergo 
great  trouble,  they  are  exposed  to  many  hazards  for  our  advan- 
tages; that  '  under  their  shadow' we  may  enjoy  safety  and  quiet, 
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  protection  of  right  and  innocence, 
the  preservation  of  order  and  peace,  the  encouragement  of 
goodness,  and  correction  of  wickedness :  for  they,  as  the 
Apostle  telleth  us,  '  are  God's  ministers,  attending  continually 
on  these  very  things.'  They  indeed  so  attend  as  to  deny  them- 
selves, and  so  forego  much  of  their  own  ease,  their  pleasure, 
their  satisfaction  ;  beiug  frequently  perplexed  with  cares,  con- 
tinually enslaved  to  business,  and  subject  to  various  incon- 
veniences, rendering  their  life  to  considerate  spectators  very 
little  desirable. 

As  therefore,  according  to  our  Lord's  observation,  they  are 
usually  styled  benefactors,  so  they  really  are ;  even  the  worst 
of  them  (such  as  Claudius,  or  Nero,  of  whom  our  Apostles 
speak)  in  considerable  measure;  at  least  in  comparison  of 
anarchy,  and  considering  the  mischiefs  issuing  from  want  of 
government.  Ob  KoXaKeta  eari  to  irpayfxa'  '  The  matter  is  not 
flattery;'  (saith  St.  Chrysostom,*  himself  of  all  men  farthest 
from  a  flatterer;)  '  but  according  to  the  reason  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. 


*  Chrys.  in  1  Tim.  ii.  I. 


ON  THfc  KING'S  HAPPY  RETURN. 


-23-1 


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 
Felix,  with  all  thankfulness.' 

However,  what  Seneca  saith  of  philosophers,  that  '  they  of 
all  men  are  most  obliged,  and  most  grateful  to  kings  and  magis- 
trates, because  from  their  care  they  enjoy  the  leisure,  quiet, 
and  security  of  contemplating  and  practising  the  best  things ; 
on  which  account,'  saith  he,  '  they  could  not  but  reverence  the 
authors  of  so  great  a  good  as  parents;'*  that  is,  or  should  be, 
far  more  true  of  Christians.  'That  leisure  (to  use  his  words) 
which  is  spent  with  God,  and  which  rendereth  us  like  to  God  ;'f 
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  retribution  of  good  will,  and  of  all  good  offices, 
particularly  of  our  prayers,  is  to  be  paid  to  them.  '  Is  it  not 
very  absurd,'  saith  St.  Chrysostom,  'that  they  should  labor 
and  venture  for  us,  and  we  not  pray  for  them  V 

6.  Whereas  we  are  by  divine  command  frequently  enjoined  to 
fear  and  reverence,  to  honor,  to  obey  kings ;  we  should  look 
on  prayer  for  them  as  a  principal  branch,  and  the  neglect 
thereof  as  a  notable  breach  of  those  duties.  For, 

As  to  honor  and  reverence,  it  is  plain  that  no  exterior  signi- 
fication, 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  Ma- 
jesty for  their  welfare.  Than  which  practice  there  can  be  no 
surer  argument  that  we  hold  them  in  great  account  and  consi- 
deration.   And  how  indeed  can  we  much  honor  them,  for 

,  *  Nulli  advcrsus  magislratus  ac  reges  gratiores  sunt;  nec  imme- 
rito,  ii  it  1 1  is  enim  plus  praestant,  quam  quibus  frui  trauquiilo  otio  li- 
cet. Itaque  hi  quibus  atl  propositum  bene  vivendi  confert  securi- 
tas  publica,  necesse  est  auctorera  hujus  boni  ut  parentem  colant. — 
Sen.  Ep.  73. 

t  Quanti  astimamus  hoc  otium,  quod  inter  Deos  agitur,  quod 
Deos  facit? — Ibid.  / 


236 


BARROW.— SERMON  X. 


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 
and  relations  ?  doth  it  not  imply  a  very  slender  regard  had  to 
them  ? 

And  as  for  obedience,  prayer  for  princes  is  clearly  an  instance 
thereof  ;  seeing  it  may  be  supposed  that  all  princes  do  require 
it  from  their  subjects.  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  in- 
fidels, 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 
savor  unto  the  God  of  heaven,  and  pray  for  the  life  of  the  king 
and  of  his  sons.'  And  that  such  was  the  practice  of  the  Ro- 
mans even  in  their  heathenish  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  in  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  upholding  their  state  ;  that  they  may  seem  to  have  place 
in  the  most  serious  regards  and  solemn  performances  of  their 
subjects.  So  that  to  neglect  this  duty  is  ever  a  violation 
of  our  due  obedience,  and  a  kind  of  disloyalty  to  them. 
Again, 

7.  The  praying  for  princes  is  a  service  peculiarly  honorable, 
and  very  acceptable  to  God  ;  which  he  will  interpret  as  a  great 

*  Nuncupare  vota  et  pro  seternitate  imperii,  et  pro  salute  civium, 
iino  pro  salute  principum,  ac  propter  illos  pro  aetemitate  imperii, 
solebamus. — Plin.  Paneg. 


ON  THE  KING'S  HAPPY  RETURN. 


237 


respect  clone  to  himself ;  for  that  thereby  we  honor  his  image 
and  character  in  them,  yielding  in  his  presence  this  special  re- 
spect to  them  as  his  representatives ;  for  that  thereby  we  avow 
his  government  of  the  world  by  them  as  his  ministers  and  depu- 
ties ;  for  that  thereby  we  acknowlege  all  power  derived  from 
him,  and  depending  on  his  pleasure ;  we  ascribe  to  him  an  au- 
thority paramount  above  all  earthly  potentates;  we  imply  our 
persuasion  that  he  alone  is  absolute  sovereign  of  the  world, 
'  the  King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords,'  so  that  princes  are  no- 
thing otherwise  than  in  subordination  to  him,  can  do  nothing 
without  his  succor,  do  owe  to  him  all  their  power,  their  safety, 
their  prosperity,  and  welfare;*  for  that,  in  fine,  thereby  dis- 
claiming all  other  confidences  *  in  any  son  of  man,'  we  signify 
our  intire  submission  to  God's  will,  and  sole  confidence  in  his 
providence.  This  service  therefore  is  a  very  grateful  kind  of 
adoring  our  almighty  Lord  ;  and  as  such  St.  Paul  recom- 
mendeth  it  in  the  words  immediately  subjoined  to  our  text,  *  For 
this,'  saithhe,  '  is  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  us  to  place  our  devotion 
there  where  it  will  be  most  needful  and  useful  ;  we  therefore 
chiefly  must  pray  for  kings  because  they  do  most  need  our 
prayers. 

The  office  is  most  high,  and  hard  to  discharge  well  or  happily  ; 
wherefore  they  need  extraordinary  supplies  of  gifts  and  graces 
from  the  divine  bounty. 

Their  affairs  are  of  greatest  weight  and  importance,  requiring 
answerable  skill  and  strength  to  steer  and  wield  them  :  where- 
fore they  need  from  the  fountain  of  wisdom  and  power  special 
communications  of  light ,  of  courage,  of  ability,  to  conduct,  to 
support,  to  fortify  them  in  their  managements  ;  they  need  that 
God  should  '  uphold  them '  trvevfiari  j/ye/jocKcw,  with  '  that 
princely  spirit,'  for  which  king  David  prayed. 

They  often  are  to  deliberate  about  matters  of  dark  and  un- 
certain consequence  :  they  are  to  judge  in  cases  of  dubious  and 

*  Temperans  majestatem  Cacsaris  infra  Deum,  magis  ilium  com- 
menclo  Deo. — Tert.  Apol.  cap.  xxxiii. 


238 


BARROW. — SERMON  X. 


intricate  nature  ;  the  which  to  resolve  prudently,  or  to  deter- 
mine uprightly,  no  human  wisdom  sufficiently  can  enable  : 
wherefore  they  need  '  the  spirit  of  counsel,'  and  '  the  spirit  of 
judgment,'  from  the  sole  dispenser  of  them,  the  great  '  Coun- 
sellor '  and  most  '  righteous  Judge.'  The  wisest  and  ablest  of 
them  hath  reason  to  pray  with  Solomon,  '  Give  thy  servant  an 
understanding  heart,  to  judge  thy  people,  that  I  may  discern 
between  good  and  bad:  for  who  is  able  to  judge  this  thy  so 
great  a  people  V  That  so  what  the  wise  man  saith  may  be 
verified,  '  A  divine  sentence  is  in  the  lips  of  the  king,  his  mouth 
transgresseth  not  in  judgment :'  and  that  of  the  wise  woman, 
'  As  an  angel  of  God,  so  is  my  lord  the  king,  to  discern  good  and 
bad.' 

They  commonly  are  engaged  in  enterprises  of  greatest  diffi- 
culty, insuperable  by  the  might  or  industry  of  man  ;  in  regard 
to  which  we  may  say  with  Hannah,  '  by  strength  shall  no  man 
prevail ;'  with  the  preacher,  '  the  race  is  not  to  the  swift,  nor 
the  battle  to  the  strong ;'  with  the  psalmist,  '  there  is  no  king 
saved  by  the  multitude  of  an  host :'  wherefore  they  need  aid  and 
succor  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  disaf- 
fected malecontents,  many  both  open  enemies  and  close  insidia- 
tors;  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, 
'  except  the  Lord  keepeth  the  city,  the  watchman  waketh  but 
in  vain  ;'  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  be- 
yond other  men  are  subject  to  external  temptations.  The 
malicious  spirit  (as  in  the  case  of  Job,  of  David,  of  Ahab,  of 
Joshua  the  high  priest,  is  expressed)  is  ever  waiting  for  occasion, 
ever  craving  permission  of  God  to  seduce  and  pervert  them  ; 
success  therein  being  extremely  conducible  to  his  villainous  de- 
signs. The  world  continually  doth  assault  them  with  all  its 
advantages,  with  all  its  baits  of  pleasure,  with  all  its  intice- 


ON  THE  KING'S  HAPPY  RETURN. 


2-.VJ 


ments  to  pride  and  vanity,  to  oppression  and  injustice,  to  sloth, 
to  luxury,  to  exorbitant  self-will  and  self-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  incumbrances  by 
varieties  of  care  and  business,  their  multitude  of  obsequious  fol- 
lowers, and  scarcity  of  faithful  friends  to  advise  or  reprove  them, 
their  having  no  obstacles  before  them  to  check  their  wills,  to 
cross  their  humors,  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  other- 
wise it  is  almost  a  miracle  if  they  are  not  plunged. 

And  being  they  are  so  liable  to  sin,  they  must  consequently 
stand  often  in  need  of  God's  mercy  to  bear  with  them,  and  to 
pardon  them. 

They  therefore,  on  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  deprecations  of  God's  wrath  and  judg- 
ment 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  princes  having  many  avocations  and  tempta- 
tions, hindering  them  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  prayers,  will  not  fail  earnestly  to  sue  for  them ;  that  God 
Mould  afford  needful  assistance  to  them  in  the  administration 
of  their  high  office,  in  the  improvement  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  undertakings,  would  protect 
their  persons  from  dangers,  would  keep  their  hearts  from  the 


■240 


BARROW. — SERMON  X. 


prevalency  of  temptations,  would  pardon  their  failings  and 
trespasses.  Again, 

9.  Whereas  God  hath  declared  that  he  hath  special  regard 
to  princes,  and  a  more  than  ordinary  care  over  them,  because 
they  have  a  peculiar  relation  to  him  as  his  representatives,  the 
'  ministers  of  his  kingdom,'  the  main  instruments  of  his  provi- 
dence, whereby  he  conveyeth  his  favors,  and  dispenseth  his 
justice  to  men  ;  because  also  the  good  of  mankind,  which  he 
especially  tendereth,  is  mainly  concerned  in  their  welfare ; 
whereas,  I  say,  '  it  is  he  that  giveth  salvation  unto  kings;'  that 
'  giveth  great  deliverance  to  his  king,  and  showeth  mercy  to  his 
anointed ;'  that  hath  '  the  king's  heart,  and  his  breath,'  and 
'  all  his  ways  in  his  hand  :'  even  on  this  account  our  prayers 
for  them  are  the  more  required.  For  it  is  a  method  of  God, 
and  an  established  rule  of  divine  providence,  not  to  dispense 
special  blessings  without  particular  conditions,  and  the  concur- 
rence of  our  duty  in  observance  of  what  he  prescribeth  in  re- 
spect 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 
ns  of  its  advantages ;  nor  in  that  case  may  we  expect  any  bles- 
sings of  that  kind.  As  without  praying  for  ourselves  we  must 
not  expect  private  favors  from  heaven  ;  so  without  praying  for 
our  prince  we  cannot  well  hope  for  public  blessings.  For,  as 
a  profane  person  (who  in  effect  disavoweth  God  by  not  regard- 
ing to  seek  his  favor  and  aid)  is  not  qualified  to  receive  any 
good  from  him  ;  so  a  profane  nation  (which  disclaimeth  God's 
government  of  the  world  by  not  invoking  his  benediction  on 
those  who  moderate  it  under  him)  is  not  well  capable  of  com- 
mon benefits.  It  is  on  all  accounts  true  which  Ezra  said,  «  The 
hand  of  our  God  is  on  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  regard,  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  practice,  we  may 
farther  consider  that  such  prayers,  offered  duly,  (with  fre- 
quency and  constancy,  with  sincerity  and  zeal,)  do  always  turn 


ON  THE  KING'S  HAPPY  RETURN. 


.241 


to  good  account,  and  never  want  good  effect :  the  which,  if  it 
be  not  always  easily  discernible,  yet  it  is  certainly  real ;  if  it 
be  not  perfect  as  we  may  desire,  yet  it  is  competent,  as  expe- 
diency requireth,  or  as  the  condition  of  things  will  bear. 

There  may  be  impediments  to  a  full  success  of  the  best 
prayers ;  they  may  not  ever  prevail  to  render  princes  com- 
pletely good  or  extremely  prosperous  :  for  some  concurrence  of 
their  own  will  is  requisite  to  produce  their  virtue,  God  rarely 
working  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  include  so  much 
honesty  and  charity.  In  this  case,  surely,  we  may  have  some 
confidence,  according  to  that  of  St.  John,  '  This  is  the  confi- 
dence we  have  in  him,  that,  if  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,  saying,  '  It  is  impossible  that  a  son  of  those  devotions 
should  perish;'  so  may  we  hopefully  presume,  and  encourage 
ourselves,  that  a  prince  will  not  miscarry,  for  whose  welfare 
many  good  people  do  earnestly  solicit :  Fieri  non  potest,  ut 
princeps  istarum  lacrymarum  pereat. 

You  know  in  general  the  mighty  efficacy  of  prayer;  what 
pregnant  assurances  there  are,  and  how  wonderful  instances 

I      thereof  occur  in  holy  Scripture,  both  in  relation  to  public  and 

1 J    private  blessings  :  how  it  is  often  promised,  that  '  all  things, 
whatsoever  we  shall  ask  in  prayer  believing,  we  shall  receive  ;' 

V      and  that '  whoever  asketh  receiveth,  and  he  that  seeketh  find- 
eth,  and  to  him  that  knocketh  it  shall  be  opened :'  how  the 

»     prayer  of  Abraham  did  heal  Abimelech  and  his  family  of  bar- 

BAR.  VOL.  I.  L 


242 


BARROW. — SERMON  X. 


renness;  how  the  prayers  of  Moses  did  quench  the  fire,  and 
cure  the  bitings  of  the  fiery  serpents  ;  how  the  prayer  of  Joshua 
did  arrest  the  sun  ;  how  the  prayer  of  Hannah  did  procure 
Samuel  to  her,  as  his  name  doth  import ;  how  Elias's  prayers 
did  open  and  shut  the  heavens  ;  how  the  same  holy  prophet's 
prayer  did  reduce  a  departed  soul,  and  that  of  Elisha  did  effect 
the  same,  and  that  of  another  prophet  did  restore  Jeroboam's 
withered  hand  ;  how  the  prayers  of  God's  people  frequently  did 
'  raise  them  up  saviours,'  and  '  when  they  cried  unto  the  Lord 
in  their  trouble,  he  delivered  them  out  of  their  distresses :'  how 
the  prayers  of  Asa  discomfited  a  million  of  Arabians,  and  those 
of  Jehoshaphat  destroyed  a  numerous  army  of  his  enemies  by 
their  own  hands,  and  those  of  Hezekiah  brought  down  an  angel 
from  heaven  to  cut  off  the  Assyrians,  and  those  of  Manasses 
restored  him  to  his  kingdom,  and  those  of  Esther  saved  her 
people  from  the  brink  of  ruin,  and  those  of  Nehemiah  inclined 
a  pagan  king's  heart  to  favor  his  pious  design  for  re-edifying 
Jerusalem,  and  those  of  Daniel  obtained  strange  visions  and 
discoveries.  How  Noah,  Job,  Daniel,  Moses,  and  Samuel 
are  represented  as  powerful  intercessors  with  God  ;  and  conse- 
quently 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 
private  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  bet- 
ter than  of  himself  he  would  do ;  he  may  preserve  him  from 
many  disasters  otherwise  incident  to  him  :  which  will  be  consi- 
derable effects  of  prayer. 

11.  I  shall  add  but  one  general  consideration  more,  which  is 


ON  THE  KING'S  HAPPY  RETURN. 


243 


this,  that  prayer  is  the  only  allowable  way  of  redressing  our 
cose,  it'  we  do  suffer  by  or  for  princes. 

Are  they  bad,  or  do  they  misdemean  themselves  in  their 
administration  of  government  and  justice  ?  we  may  not  by 
any  violent  or  rough  way  attempt  to  reclaim  them  ;  for  ihey 
are  not  accountable  to  us,  or  liable  to  our  correction.  '  Where 
the  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  right  ourselves  by  resistance.  For,  '  against  a  king,' 
saith  the  wise  man,  '  there  is  no  rising  up  :'  and,  '  who,'  said 
David,  '  can  stretch  out  his  hand  against  the  Lord's  anointed, 
and  be  guiltless?'  And,  'they,'  saith  St.  Paul,  '  that  resist, 
shall  receive  to  themselves  damnation.' 

We  must  not  so  much  as  ease  our  stomach,  or  discharge  our 
passion,  by  railing  or  inveighing  against  them.  For,  '  thou 
shalt  not  speak  evil  of  the  ruler  of  thy  people,'  is  a  divine  law; 
and,  to  '  blaspheme,'  or  revile,  '  dignities,'  is  by  St.  Peter 
and  St.  Jude  reprehended  as  a  notable  crime. 

We  must  not  be  bold  or  free  in  taxing  their  actions.  For, 
'  is  it  fit,'  said  Elihu,  '  to  say  to  a  king,  Thou  art  wicked,  and 
to  princes,  Ye  are  ungodly  ?'  and  to  '  reproach  the  footsteps 
of  God's  anointed'  is  implied  to  be  an  impious  practice. 

We  must  forbear  even  complaining  and  murmuring  against 
them.  For  murmurers  are  condemned  as  no  mean  sort  of 
offenders ;  and  the  Jews  in  the  wilderness  were  sorely  punished 
for  such  behavior. 

We  must  not  (according  to  the  preacher's  advice)  so  much 
as  '  curse  them  in  our  thoughts;'  or  not  entertain  ill  conceits 
and  ill  wishes  in  our  minds  toward  them. 

To  do  these  things  is  not  only  high  presumption  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  '  King  of  kings,'  and 
hath  reserved  to  himself  the  prerogative  of  judging,  of  rebuking, 
of  punishing  kings,  when  he  rindeth  cause. 

These  were  the  misdemeanors  of  those  in  the  late  times,  who, 


244 


BARROW. — SERMON  X. 


instead  of  praying  for  their  sovereign,  did  clamor  and  rail  at 
him,  did  asperse  him  with  foul  imputations,  did  accuse  his  pro- 
ceedings, did  raise  tumults  and  levy  war  against  him,  pretending 
by  rude  force  to  reduce  him  to  his  duty ;  so  usurping  on  their 
prince,  or  rather  on  God  himself;  assuming  his  right,  and 
taking  his  work  out  of  his  hands ;  discovering  also  therein 
great  profaneness  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  re- 
dressed 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 
directing  him  into  a  good  course  ;  however  comforting  our- 
selves in  the  conscience  of  submitting  to  God's  will.* 

This  is  the  only  method  St.  Paul  did  prescribe,  even  when 
Nero,  a  most  vile,  flagitious  man,  a  sorry  and  naughty  governor 
as  could  be,  a  monstrous  tyrant,  and  most  bloody  persecutor, 
(the  very  inventor  of  persecution,)  did  sway  the  empire. +  He 
did  not  advise  Christians  to  stand  on  their  guard,  to  contrive 
plots,  to  provide  arms,  to  raise  mutinies  and  insurrections 
against  him  ;  but  to  offer  supplications,  prayers,  and  interces- 
sions for  him,  as  the  best  means  of  their  security  and  comfort. I 
And  this  was  the  course  of  the  primitive  Christians  during  their 
hard  condition  under  the  domination  of  heathen  princes,  im- 
pugners  of  their  religion :  '  Prayers  and  tears  were'  then  the 

*  Absit  enim  ut  indigne  feramus  ea  nos  pati  quae  optarous,  aut 
nllionem  a  nobis  aliquam  machinemur,  quam  a  Deo  expectamus. — 
Tert.  ad  Scap.  2. 

f  Qui  non  dicam  regum,  sed  omnium  horoinuni,  et  vel  besliarum 
sordidissimus,  dignus  exstitit  qui  perseculionem  iu  Christianos  pri- 
mus inciperet. — Snip.  Sev.  ii.  40. 

I  Ita  nos  magis  oramus  pro  salute  imperatoris,  ab  eo  earn  postu- 
lates qui  praestare  potest.  Et  utique  ex  disciplina  patientiae  divi- 
nse  agere  nos,  satis  manifestum  esse  vobis  potest,  cum  tanta  boriii- 
nuiii  multitudo,  pars  pene  major  civitatis  cujusque,  in  silentio  et 
modestia  agimus. — Tert.  ad  Scap.  2. 


ON  THE  KING'S  HAPPY  RETURN. 


24.^ 


only  'arms  of  the  church  ;'  whereby  they  long  defended  it  from 
ruin,  and  at  last  advanced  it  to  most  glorious  prosperity.'* 

Indeed  if,  not  assuming  the  liberty  to  find  fault  with  princes, 
we  would  practise  the  duty  of  seeking  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  order ;  if,  instead  of  being  shrewd  politicians,  or 
smart  judges  in  such  matters,  we  would  be  devout  orators  and 
humble  solicitors  at  the  throne  of  grace  ;  our  endeavors  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  po- 
litics 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  displeased  with  those  who  dissent  from  him:  but  it  is, 
as  the  fairest  and  justest,  so  the  surest  and  likeliest  way  of 
reducing  things  to  a  firm  composure,  (without  more  ado,  let- 
ting the  world  alone,  to  move  on  its  own  hinges,  and  not  imper- 
tinently troubling  ourselves  or  others  with  the  conduct  of  it,) 
simply  to  request  of  Almighty  God,  the  sovereign  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  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  confi- 
dence 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  favor  us.  By 
them  alone  we  may  hope  to  save  things  from  sinking  into  dis- 

*  Fundendo  sanguinem,  et  patiendo  magis  quam  faciendo  contu- 
melias,  Christi  i'undata  est  ecclesia;  persecutionibus  crevit,  &c. — 
Hier.  Ep.  62. 


248 


BARROW. — SERMON  X. 


order,  we  may  assuage  the  factions,  we  may  defeat  the  machi- 
nations against  the  public  welfare. 

12.  Seeing  then  we  have  so  many  good  arguments  and  mo- 
tives inducing  to  pray  for  kings,  it  is  no  wonder  that,  to  back 
them,  we  may  also  allege  the  practice  of  the  church,  continu- 
ally in  all  times  performing  this  duty  in  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  accordingly 
the  ancient  Christians,  as  Tertullian  doth  assure  us,  did  "  al- 
ways 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  practise.  Likewise  of  the  church  in  his 
time  St.  Chrysostom  telleth  us,  that  "  all  communicants  did 
know  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  in  authority. "f 

And  in  the  Greek  liturgies  (the  composure  whereof  is 
fathered  on  St.  Chrysostom)  there  are  divers  prayers  inter- 
spersed for  the  emperors,  couched  in  terms  very  pregnant  and 
respectful. 

If  the  offices  of  the  Roman  church,  and  of  the  churches  truck- 
ling under  it,  in  latter  times,  shall  seem  more  defective  or 
sparing  in  this  point  of  service,  the  reason  may  be,  for  that  a 

*  Precantes  sumus  semper  pro  omnibus  imperatoribus  vitam  illis 
prolixam,  imperium  secnrum,  doinum  tutam,  exercitus  fortes,  seua- 
tuni  fjilclem,  populum  probum,  orbem  qnietum,  quascuuque  hominis 
et  Caesaris  vota  sunt. — Tert.  Apol.  cap.  30. 

Hoc  agite,  boni  prssules,  extorquete  aiiimam  Deo  snpplicantem 
pro  imperatore. — Ibid. 

t  Kol  tovto  "ujaaiv  oi  /aiTrai,  ir£>s  «a#  ixiarriv  Tjfitpav  viVerai  kcu  eV  ia-ripa 
koI  4v  irpaita-  irms  vwtp  Tavrbs  tov  i(6<rfiov,  Kal  fjcuriXewv,  Kai  toitox'  t£k  it 
VTrepoxy  Zrrwv,  voiov/ifSa  rljv  tiir)aiv  Clirvs.  in  1  Tim.  ii.  1. 


ON  THE  KING'S  HAPPY  RETURN. 


247 


superlative  regard  to  the  Solar  or  Pontifical  authority  (as  Pope 
Innocent  III.  distinguished)  did  obscure  their  devotion  for  the 
Lunar  or  Regal  Majesty.  But  our  church  hath  been  abun- 
dantly 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  reasonable,  and  so  important ;  supposing  that  we  have  a 
due  care  to  join  our  heart  with  the  church's  words,  and  to  the 
frequency  of  prayers  for  our  prince  do  confer  a  suitable  fer- 
vency. 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. 

There  are  so  many  general  inducements  to  this  duty  at  all 
times  ;  and  there  are  beside  divers  particular  reasons  enforcing 
it  now,  in  the  present  state  and  posture  of  things. 

Times  of  trouble,  of  danger,  of  fear,  of  darkness  and  per- 
plexity, of  distraction  and  distress,  of  guilt  and  deserved 
wrath,  are  most  seasonable  for  recourse  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,  '  They  know  not,  neither  will  they 
understand;  they  walk  on  in  darkness:  all  the  foundations  of 
the  earth  are  out  of  course  V  or  like  those  of  which  our  Lord 
spake,  when  there  was  '  on  the  earth  distress  of  nations,  with 
perplexity ;  men's  hearts  failing  them  for  fear,  and  for  looking 
after  those  things  which  were  coming  on  the  earth  V 

Are  not  the  days  gloomy,  so  that  no  human  providence  can 
see  far,  no  wisdom  can  descry  the  issue  of  things  ? 

Is  it  not  a  very  unsettled  world,  wherein  all  the  public 

*  Inops  senatus  auxilii  Iiumani  ad  deos  populum  ac  vota  vertit. — 
Liv.  iii.  7.  v.  16. 


2  48 


BARROW.— SERMON  X. 


frames  are  shaken  almost  off  the  hinges,  and  the  minds  of  men 
extremely  discomposed  with  various  passions;  with  fear, 
suspicion,  anger,  discontent,  and  impatience  ?  How  from 
dissensions  in  opinion  do  violent  factions  and  feuds  rage  ;  the 
hearts  of  men  boiling  with  fierce  animosities,  and  being  exas- 
perated 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  licentiousness  ? 

How  many  adversaries  are  there,  '  bearing  ill  will  to  our 
Sion  !'  How  many  turbulent,  malicious,  crafty  spirits,  eagerly 
bent,  and  watching  for  occasion  to  subvert  the  church,  to 
disturb  the  state,  to  introduce  confusion  in  all  things !  How 
many  Edomites,  who  say  of  Jerusalem,  (both  ecclesiastical 
and  civil,)  '  Down  with  it,  down  with  it  even  to  the  gTound !' 

Have  we  not  great  reason  to  be  fearful  of  God's  just  dis- 
pleasure, and  that  heavy  judgments  will  be  poured  on  us  for 
our  manifold  heinous  provocations  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  outrageous  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  toward  our  neighbor,  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  repentance? 

Is  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  neighboring  flames  may 
catch  our  houses  ? 

In  fine,  is  not  our  case  palpably  such,  that  for  any  good  com- 
posure or  reinstatement  of  things  in  good  order,  for  upholding 
truth  and  sound  doctrine,  for  reducing  charity  and  peace,  for 


ON  THE  KING'S  HAPPY  RETURN. 


2  I'J 


reviving  the  spirit  of  piety,  and  bringing  virtue  again  into 
request ;  for  preserving  state  and  church  from  ruin  ;  we  cau 
have  no  confidence  or  reasonable  hope,  but  in  the  good  provi- 
dence and  merciful  succor  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.' 

On  sucli  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  pre- 
serve 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.' 

I  have  done  with  the  first  duty  (prayer  for  kings ;)  on  which 
I  have  the  rather  so  largely  insisted,  because  it  is  very  season- 
able to  our  present  condition. 

II.  The  other  (thanksgiving)  I  shall  but  touch,  and  need  not. 
perhaps  to  do  more.  For, 

1.  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  welfare  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  douor  of  it,  for  his  goodness  in  conferring 
it. 

2.  As  for  particular  motives,  suiting  the  present  occasion,  I 
need  not  by  information  or  impression  of  them  farther  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  grate- 
ful acknowlegement  to  commemorate.    Wherefore,  instead  of 


250 


BARROW. — SERMON  X. 


reciting  trite  stories,  and  urging  obvious  reasons,  (which  a 
small  recollection  will  suggest  to  you,)  I  shall  only  request  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  gracious  and 
benign  a  prince,  (the  experiments  of  whose  clemency  and 
goodness  no  history  can  parallel,)  to  sit  on  the  throne  of  his 
blessed  father,  and  renowned  ancestors. 

Blessed  be  God,  who  hath  protected  him  in  so  many  en- 
counters, hath  saved  him  from  so  many  dangers  and  snares, 
hath  delivered  him  from  so  great  troubles. 

Blessed  be  God,  who  in  so  wonderful  a  manner,  by  such 
miraculous  trains  of  providence,  did  reduce  him  to  his  country, 
and  reinstate  him  in  the  possession  of  his  rights  ;  thereby  vin- 
dicating his  own  just  providence,  '  declariug  his  salvation, 
and  openly  showing  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  government,  our  laws  and 
liberties,  our  peace  and  quiet ;  rescuing  us  from  lawless  usur- 
pations and  tyrannical  yokes,  from  the  insultings  of  error  and 
iniquity,  from  horrible  distractions  and  confusions. 

Ever  blessed  be  God,  who  hath  '  turned  the  captivity  of 
Sion  ;'  hath  raised  our  church  from  the  dust,  and  re-established 
the  sound  doctrine,  the  decent  order,  the  wholesome  discipline 
thereof ;  hath  restored  true  religion  with  its  supports,  advan- 
tages, and  encouragements. 

Blessed  be  the  Lord,  who  hath  granted  us  to  continue 
these  sixteen  years  in  the  peaceable  fruition  of  those  bless- 
ings. 

'  Praised  be  God,  who  hath  not  cast  out  our  prayer,  nor 
turned  his  mercy  from  us.' 

Praised  be  God,  who  '  hath  turned  our  heaviness  into  joy, 
hath  put  off  our  sackcloth,  and  girded  us  with  gladness.' 

'  Let  our  mouth  speak  the  praise  of  the  Lord  ;  and  let  all 
flesh  bless  his  holy  name  for  ever  and  ever.' 

'The  Lord  liveth,  and  blessed  be  our  rock  ;  and  let  the  God 
of  our  salvation  be  exalted.' 


ON  THE  KING'S   HAPPY  RETURN. 


251 


'  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  who  only  doeth  won- 
drous things ;  and  blessed  be  his  glorious  name  for  ever  ;  and 
let  the  whole  earth  be  filled  with  his  glory.  Amen,  and 
amen.' 

'  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  from  everlasting  to 
everlasting:  and  let  all  the  people  say,  Amen.  Praise  ye 
the  Lord.' 


252 


SUMMARY  OF 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  XI. 

PSALM  LXIV. — VERSES  9.  10. 

Parallel  case  in  the  Psalm  from  which  the  text  is  taken, 
to  that  commemorated  in  the  service  of  the  day  :  duties  enjoined 
on  us  designated  in  the  text.  1.  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.  All  these 
particulars  may  be  understood  in  a  double  manner  :  either  as 
declarative  of  the  event,  or  as  directing  the  practice  on  such 
emergencies  :  this  enlarged  on. 

I.  We  are  on  such  occasions  obliged  wisely  to  consider,  or 
to  understand  God's  doing.  This  is  placed  first,  as  previous  in 
its  nature,  and  influential  on  the  rest.  There  are  many  who 
are  very  inobservant  and  careless  with  regard  to  things  of  this 
nature,  such  as  those  of  whom  the  prophet  speaks,  Isa.  v.  12. 
Reasons  given  for  this  carelessness.  It  is  shown  that  both  rea- 
son and  holy  Scripture  plainly  declare  our  obligation  to  con- 
sider and  perceive  God's  doings.  There  are  some  distinctive 
marks  or  characters,  by  which  we  may  perceive  God's  hand, 
on  which  may  be  grounded  rules  declarative  of  special  provi- 
dence, such  as  commonly  will  hold,  although  they  sometimes 
may  admit  of  exceptions,  and  should  be  warily  applied :  for 
example,  1.  the  wonderful  strangeness  of  events  compared 
with  the  ordinary  course  of  things,  or  natural  influence  of 
causes  :  2.  the  reasonableness  and  suddenness  of  events,  when 
there  is  occasion  to  acknowlege  with  the  prophet,  thou  didst 
terrible  things,  that  we  looked  not  for:  Isa.  lxiv.  3.  :  3.  the 
great  utility  and  beneficial  influence  of  occurrences,  especially 


SERMON  XI 


us 


in  regard  to  the  public  state  of  things,  and  to  great  personages 
in  whose  welfare  the  public  is  much  concerned :  4.  the  righ- 
teousness of  the  case,  or  the  advantage  springing  from  events 
to  the  maintenance  of  right,  the  vindication  of  innocence,  the 
defence  of  truth,  the  encouragement  of  piety  and  virtue  :  5. 
the  correspondence  of  events  to  the  prayers  and  desires  of  good 
men  ;  of  which  many  examples  are  quoted  from  the  holy  Scrip- 
tures :  C.  the  near  resemblance  or  significant  correspondence 
which  they  usually  bear  to  the  actions  on  which  they  are 
grounded,  and  which  serve  to  discover  their  original :  7.  the 
harmonious  conspiracy  of  various  accidents  to  one  end  or  ef- 
fect ;  it  being  beyond  the  reach  of  fortune  to  range  various  cau- 
ses in  such  order.  By  these  means,  if  we  will  consider  wisely, 
with  minds  pure  from  vain  prejudices  and  corrupt  affections, 
we  may  discern  and  understand  God's  doing. 

II.  It  is  our  duty,  on  all  such  remarkable  occasions  of  pro- 
vidence, to  fear  God.  All  men,  it  is  said,  shall  fear.  It  is 
our  duty  in  such  cases  to  be  affected  with  all  sorts  of  fear  ;  with 
a  fear  of  awful  dread,  with  a  fear  of  hearty  reverence,  with  a 
fear  of  sober  caution,  yea,  sometimes  with  a  fear  of  dejecting 
consternation  :  these  points  enlarged  on. 

III.  We  are  in  such  cases  obliged  to  declare  God's  work : 
that  is,  openly  to  acknowlege  and  avow,  to  applaud  and  cele- 
brate the  special  providence  of  God,  with  his  adorable  perfec- 
tions displayed  in  such  events;  to  the  glory  of  God's  name,  in 
expression  of  our  reverence  and  gratitude,  for  the  common  edi- 
fication of  men,  which  is  the  due  improvement  of  our  glory. 
Example  of  the  holy  psalmist. 

IV.  It  is  peculiarly  the  duty  and  practice  of  good  men  on 
such  occasions  to  feel  and  to  express  religious  joy.  The  righ- 
teous shall  be  glad  in  the  Lord.  Reasons  given  why  good  men 
have  much  cause,  on  many  accounts,  to  be  glad. 

V.  The  next  duty  prescribed  to  good  men  in  such  cases  is, 
to  trust  in  God ;  that  is,  to  have  their  affiance  in  God,  on  all 


2i4 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  XI. 


like  occasions  and  emergencies,  settled,  improved,  and  corro- 
borated thereby  :  for  this  is  the  proper  end,  as  it  immediately 
regards  ourselves,  of  God's  special  and  remarkable  providence, 
viz.  to  nourish  in  well-disposed  minds  that  faith  in  him,  which 
is  the  root  of  all  piety,  and  ground  of  devotion. 

VI.  Good  men  on  such  occasions  should  glory.  All  the 
upright  in  heart  shall  glory :  that  is,  in  contemplation  of  such 
providences  feeling  sprightly  elevation  of  mind  and  transports 
of  affection,  they  should  exhibit  triumphant  demonstrations  of 
satisfaction  and  alacrity.  For  such  carriage  in  such  cases  we 
have  the  practice  and  the  advice  of  the  psalmist  to  direct  us : 
instances  quoted.  Observations  on  the  sense  of  the  word  Enoe- 
Oi'iaoyrat,  they  shall  be  praised. 

Such  are  the  duties  recommended  in  the  text :  concluding 
brief  application  of  them  to  the  particular  case  in  view. 


ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


255 


SERMON  XI. 

ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


PSALM  LXIV. — VERSES  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. 

If  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  other- 
where than  in  our  text. 

With  attention  perusing  the  psalm,  we  may  therein  observe 
that  its  great  Author  was  apprehensive  of  a  desperate  plot  by 
a  confederacy  of  wicked  and  spiteful  enemies,  with  great  craft 
and  secrecy,  contrived  against  his  safety.  *  They,'  saith  he, 
'  encourage  themselves  in  an  evil  matter :  they  commune  of 
laying  snares  privily  ;  they  say,  Who  shall  see  them  ?'  That 
for  preventing  the  blow  threatened  by  this  design,  (whereof  he 
had  some  glimpse,  or  some  presumption,  grounded  on  the 
knowlege  of  their  implacable  and  active  malice,)  he  doth  im- 
plore divine  protection  :  '  hide  me,'  saith  he,  '  from  the  secret 
counsel  of  the  wicked,  from  the  insurrection  of  the  workers  of 
iniquity.'  That  he  did  confide  in  God's  mercy  and  justice  for 
the  seasonable  defeating,  for  the  fit  avenging  their  machination  : 
'  God,'  saith  he,  'shall  shoot  at  them  with  an  arrow;  suddenly 


see 


BARROW.— SERMON  XI. 


shall  they  be  wounded.'  That  they  should  themselves  become 
the  detectors  of  their  crime,  and  the  instruments  of  the  exem- 
plary punishment  due  thereto  :  '  they,'  addeth  he,  '  shall  make 
their  own  tongue  to  fall  on  themselves  :  all  that  see  them  shall 
flee  away.' 

Such  was  the  case  ;  the  which  unto  what  passage  in  the  his- 
tory it  doth  relate,  or  whether  it  belongeth  to  any  we  have  re- 
corded, it  may  not  be  easy  to  determine.  Expositors  commonly 
do  refer  it  to  the  designs  of  Saul  on  David's  life.  But  this 
seeming  purely  conjecture,  not  founded  on  any  express  words, 
or  pregnant  intimations  in  the  text,  I  shall  leave  that  inquiry 
in  its  own  uncertainty.  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  in  designation,  and  therefore 
in  the  precedent  psalm,  endited  in  Saul's  time,  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  resemblance  to  that  which 
lieth  before  us. 

And  the  duties,  which  on  that  occasion  are  signified  to  con- 
cern people  then,  do  no  less  now  sort  to  us  ;  the  which,  as  they 
lie  couched  in  our  text,  are  these:  1.  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  con- 
cerning men  ;  the  others  as  appertaining  more  peculiarly  to 
righteous  and  upright  persons. 

These  duties  it  shall  be  my  endeavor  somewhat  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  on  such  emergencies. 

When  God  doth  so  interpose  his  hand  as  signally  to  check 
and  confound  mischievous  enterprises,  it  will  be  apt  to  stir  up 
in  the  minds  of  men  an  apprehension  of  God's  special  provi- 


ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


251 


dence,  to  strike  into  their  hearts  a  dread  of  his  power  and  jus- 
tice, to  wring  from  their  mouths  suitable  declarations  and  ac- 
knowlegements ;  and  particularly  then  good  men  will  be  af- 
fected with  pious  joy  ;  they  will  be  encouraged  to  confide  in 
God,  they  will  be  moved  to  glory,  or  to  express  a  triumphant 
satisfaction  in  God's  proceedings.  These  events  naturally  do 
result  from  such  providential  occurrences ;  for  production  of 
these  events  such  occurrences  are  purposely  designed  ;  and  ac- 
cordingly (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  readily  to  admit  such  im- 
pressions on  their  minds,  hearts,  and  lives,  from  the  special 
works  of  providence ;  they  are  bound  not  to  cross  those  natural 
tendencies,  not  to  frustrate  those  wise  intents  of  God,  aiming 
at  the  production  of  such  good  dispositions  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  consequent  in  effect,  which  in  obli- 
gation 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  fear,  and  do  no  more  presumptuously:'  the  meaning 
is,  that  such  exemplary  punishment  is  in  its  nature  apt,  and  its 
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  judg- 
ments are  in  the  land,  the  inhabitants  of  the  world  will  learn 
righteousness:'  the  sense  is,  that  divine  judgments  in  them- 
selves are  instructive  of  duty,  it  is  their  drift  to  inform  men 
therein,  and  men  ought  to  learn  that  lesson  from  them;  al- 
though in  effect  divers  there  be  whom  no  judgments  can 
make  wiser  or  better ;  such  as  those  of  whom  in  the  same 
prophet  it  is  said,  '  the  people  turneth  not  unto  him  that 
smiteth  them :'  and  in  another,  '  in  vain  have  I  smitten  your 
children,  they  received  no  correction.'    As  therefore  frequently 


258 


BARROW. — SERMON  XI. 


otherwhere,  so  also  here  this  kind  of  expression  may  be  taken 
chiefly  to  import  duty.  To  begin  then  with  the  first  of  these 
duties. 

I.  We  are  on  such  occasions  obliged  '  wisely  to  consider' 
(or,  as  the  Greek  rendereth  it,  awiivai,  '  to  understand,'  or 
'  to  perceive,'  as  our  old  translation  hath  it)  '  God's  doing.' 
This  I  put  in  the  first  place,  as  previous  in  nature,  and  influ- 
ential on  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  translate  it  casually,  'for  they 
shall  wisely  consider,'  'for  they  shall  perceive;'  because  in- 
deed without  duly  considering  and  rightly  understanding  such 
occurrences  to  proceed  from  God,  none  of  the  other  acts  can 
or  will  be  performed :  attentive  consideration  is  needful  to 
beget  knowlege  and  persuasion ;  these  to  breed  affection 
and  practice. 

There  are  many  who,  in  such  cases,  are  nowise  apprehen- 
sive of  God's  special  providence,  or  affected  with  it ;  be- 
cause they  do  not  consider,  or  do  not  consider  wisely  and  in- 
telligently. 

Some  are  very  inobservant  and  careless  in  regard  to  things 
of  this  nature ;  so  drowsy  and  heedless,  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  diver- 
tiseraents,  their  hearts  are  so  immersed  in  sensual  enjoy- 
ments, as  nowise  to  observe  the  most  notable  occurrences  of 
providence. 

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  suggesteth  :  like 
beasts  they  do  take  in  things  obvious  to  their  sense,  and  per- 
haps stand  gazing  on  them  ;  but  do  not  make  any  careful  re- 
flexion, or  inquiry  into  their  original  causes  and  reasons;  tak- 
ing (as  a  dog,  when  he  biteth  the  stone  flung  at  him,  or  as  a 


ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


25fl 


child  that  is  angry  with  the  log  he  falleth  on)  whatever  ap- 
peareth  next  to  be  the  principal  cause:  such  as  the  psalmist 
again  toucheth,  when  he  saith,  *  a  brutish  man  knoweth 
not,  neither  doth  a  fool  understand  this :'  and  as  he  doth 
acknowlege  himself  on  one  occasion  to  have  been  ;  '  so  foolish 
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  prejudices  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  conduct  and  agency  of  vi- 
sible causes,  hurried  by  a  necessary  swinge,  or  rolling  on  by  a 
casual  fluctuation  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  providence  as  to  say, 
■  How  doth  God  know?  and  is  there  knowlege  in  the  Most 
High  ?'  '  The  Lord  doth  not  see, neither  doth  the  God  of  Jacob 
regard  it :'  such  as  hath  been  the  brood  of  Epicurean  and  pro- 
fane considereis  in  all  times,  who  have  earnestly  plodded,  and 
strained  their  wits,  to  exclude  God  from  any  inspection  or  in- 
fluence on  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  achieve- 
ment of  most  prodigious  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  understood  not  thy 
wonders  in  Egypt;'  and  those  of  whom  it  is  observed  in  the 
gospel,  1  though  he  had  done  so  many  miracles  before  them, 
yet  they  believed  not :'  such  as  the  mutinous  people,  who,  al- 
though 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  perform- 
ances. 

The  special  providence  of  God  in  events  here  effected  or 
Drdered  by  him,  is  iudeed  commonly  not  discernible  without 


aso 


BARROW. — SERMON  XI. 


good  judgment  and  great  care;  it  is  not  commonly  impressed 
on  events  in  characters  so  big  and  clear,  as  to  be  legible  to 
every  eye,  or  to  any  eye  not  endued  with  a  sharp  perspicacy, 
not  applying  an  industrious  needfulness  :  the  tracts  thereof  are 
too  fine  and  subtile  to  be  descried  by  a  dim  sight,  with  a  tran- 
sient glance,  or  on  a  gross  view  :  it  is  seldom  so  very  conspi- 
cuous, that  persons  incredulous,  or  any  wise  indisposed  to  admit 
it,  can  easily  be  convinced  thereof,  or  constrained  to  acknow- 
lege  it:  it  is  often  (on  many  accounts,  from  many  causes)  very 
obscure,  and  not  easily  discernible  to  the  most  sagacious,  most 
watchful,  most  willing  observers.  For  the  instruments  of 
providence  being  free  agents,  acting  with  unaccountable  va- 
riety, nothing  can  happen  which  may  not  be  imputed  to  them, 
with  some  colorable  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  footsteps.  God  designeth  not  com- 
monly to  exert  his  hand  in  a  notorious  way,  but  often  purposely 
doth  conceal  it.  Whereas  also  it  is  not  fit  to  charge  on  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  acteth  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  Provi- 
dence in  various  order  and  measure  hath  regard,  which  our 
short  and  narrow  prospect  cannot  reach  :  because  God,  in  pro- 
secution of  his  ends,  is  not  wont  to  proceed  in  the  most  direct 
and  compendious  way ;  but  windeth  about  in  a  large  circuit, 
enfolding  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  many  conspiring  to 
one  common  end :  because  we  cannot  apprehend  the  conse- 
quences, nor  balance  the  convenience  of  things  in  order  to 
good  ends :  because  we  are  apt  to  measure  things  by  their 
congruity  to  our  opinions,  expectations,  and  affections :  because 
many  proceedings  of  God  depend  on  grounds  inaccessible 
to  our  apprehension ;  such  as  his  own  secret  decrees,  the 
knowlege  of  men's  thoughts,  close  purposes,  clandestine  de- 


ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


201 


signs,  true  qualifications  and  merits;  his  prescience  of  contin- 
gent events,  and  what  the  result  will  be  from  the  combination 
of  numberless  causes  :  because  sometimes  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  determination  or  final  issue  here  ;  that  being  reserved 
to  the  great  day  of  reckoning  and  judgment.  It  is  farther  also 
expedient  that  many  occurrences  should  be  puzzling  to  us,  to 
quash  our  presumption,  to  exercise  our  faith,  to  quicken  our 
industry,  to  engage  us  on  adoring  that  wisdom  which  we  cannot 
comprehend.  On  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 
without  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  on  so  important 
occasions;  or  that  we  should  be  as  brute  spectators  of  what 
God  doeth.  He  surely  in  the  governance  of  his  noblest  crea- 
ture here  discovereth  his  being,  and  displayeth  his  attributes : 
we  therefore  carefully  should  observe  it.  He  thereby  (and  no 
otherwise  in  a  public  way)  doth  continually  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  de- 
clareth  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,  and  will  observe  these  things,  they  shall  un- 
derstand the  loving-kindness  of  the  Lord.'  '  Let  him  that  glo- 
rieth  glory  in  this,  that  he  understandeth  and  knoweth  me,  that 
I  am  the  Lord,  which  exercise  loving-kindness,  judgment,  and 


262 


EAR  ROW. — SERMON  XI. 


righteousness  in  the  earth.'  '  Who  is  wise  ?  and  he  shall  un- 
derstand these  things;  prudent?  and  he  shall  know  them. 
For  the  ways  of  the  Lord  are  right,'  &c.  We  are  vehemently 
provoked  thereto:  '  Understand,  ye  brutish  among  the  people; 
and,  ye  fools,  when  will  ye  be  wise?'  They  are  reproved  for 
neglect  and  defailance,  '  who  do  not  regard  the  work  of  the 
Lord,  nor  the  operation  of  his  hand.'  The  not  discerning  Pro- 
vidence is  reproached  as  a  piece  of  shameful  folly  ;  '  A  brutish 
man  knoweth  not,  neither  doth  a  fool  understand  :'  and  of  woful 
pravity  ;  '  O  ye  hypocrites,  ye  can  discern  the  face  of  the  sky; 
but  how  is  it  that  ye  cannot  discern  this  time  ?'  To  contem- 
plate and  study  Providence  is  the  practice  of  good  men.  ■  I 
will  meditate  on  all  thy  works,'  saith  the  psalmist,  chiefly  re- 
specting works  of  this  kind  :  and,  '  The  works  of  the  Lord  are 
great,  sought  out  of  all  them  that  have  pleasure  therein.'  It 
is  a  fit  matter  of  devotion,  warranted  by  the  practice  of  a:ood 
men,  to  implore  God's  manifestation  of  his  justice  and  power 
this  way.  '  O  Lord  God,  to  whom  vengeance  belongeth,  show 
thyself;  lift  up  thyself,  thou  Judge  of  the  earth.'  It  is  God's 
manner  hereby  to  notify  himself.  '  The  Lord  is  known  by  the 
judgment  that  he  executeth.'  He  for  this  very  purpose  doth 
interpose  his  hand;  '  that  men  may  know  it  is  his  hand,  and 
that  the  Lord  hath  done  it ;'  that,  as  it  is  in  Esay,  '  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  it.'  *He  manageth  things,  so  that  men  may  be 
brought  to  know,  may  be  induced  to  acknowlege  his  authority, 
and  his  equity  in  the  management  thereof ;  that  « they  may 
know  that  he,  whose  name  is  Jehovah,  is  the  Most  High  over 
all  the  earth  :'  that  '  they  may  say,  Verily  there  is  a  reward 
for  the  righteous  :  verily  there  is  a  God  that  judgeth  the  earth.' 
In  fine,  the  knowlege  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 
of  the  best  affections  (of  holy  joy,  and  humble  fear,  and  hearty 

*  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. — Isa.  xxvi.  9. 


ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


263 


love)  toward  him  :  wherefore  we  ought  to  seek  it,  and  we  may 
attain  it. 

There  are  consequently  some  distinctive  marks,  or  charac- 
ters, by  which  we  may  perceive  God's  hand  :  and  such  may 
these  be  which  follow,  (drawn  from  the  special  nature,  man- 
ner, adjuncts,  and  consequences  of  events  :)  on  which  may  be 
grounded  rules  declarative  of  special  providence,  such  as  com- 
monly will  hold,  although  sometimes  they  may  admit  excep- 
tions, and  should  be  warily  applied. 

1.  The  wonderful  strangeness  of  events,  compared  with  the 
ordinary  course  of  things,  or  the  natural  influence  of  causes ; 
when  effects  are  performed  by  no  visible  means,  or  by  means 
disproportionate,  unsuitable,  repugnant  to  the  effect.  Some- 
times great  exploits  are  achieved,  mighty  forces  are  discom- 
fited, huge  structures  are  demolished,  designs  backed  with  all 
advantages  of  wit  and  strength  are  confounded,  none  knows 
how,  by  no  considerable  means  that  appear ;  nature  rising  up 
in  arms  against  them  ;  panic  fears  seizing  on  the  abettors  of 
them ;  dissensions  and  treacheries  springing  up  among  the 
actors ;  sudden  deaths  snatching  away  the  principal  instru- 
ments of  them.  As,  when  '  the  stars  in  their  course  fought 
against  Sisera  :'  when  the  winds  and  skies  became  auxiliaries 
to  Theodosius when  '  the  Lord  thundered  with  a  great 
thunder  on  the  Philistines,  and  discomfited  them,  and  they 
were  smitten  before  Israel :'  when  '  the  Lord  made  the  host  of 
Syrians  to  hear  a  noise  of  chariots,  of  horses,  of  a  great  host ;' 
— whence  '  they  arose  and  fled  :'  when  '  the  children  of  Am- 
nion 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,  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  early  in  the  morning,  behold  they  were  all  dead  corpses  :' 
when  the  mighty  power  of  Antiochus  was,  as  it  is  said,  to  be 
'  broken  without  hands:'  and  when,  as  it  is  foretold,  '  a  stone 
cut  out  of  the  mountain  without  hands  should  break  in  pieces 
the  iron,  the  brass,  the  clay,  the  silver,  and  the  gold.'  Such 


264  BARROW. — SERMON  XI. 

events  do  speak  God  to  be  their  cause,  by  his  invisible  efficacy 
supplying  the  defect  of  apparent  means. 

So  likewise,  when  by  weak  forces  great  feats  are  accom- 
plished, and  impotency  triunipheth  over  might  ;*  when,  as  the 
jjrophet  saith,  '  the  captives  of  the  mighty  are  taken  away,  and 
the  prey  of  the  terrible  is  delivered  :'  when  'one  man,'  as  is 
promised,  '  doth  chase  a  thousand,  and  two  put  ten  thousand 
to  flight:'  when  a  stripling,  furnished  only  with  faith  and  a 
pebble,  shall  knock  down  a  monstrous  giant,  armed  with  a 
helmet  of  brass  and  a  coat  of  mail,  with  a  huge  target,  sword, 
and  spear:  when  successes  arrive  like  those  recorded  in.  Scrip- 
ture under  the  conduct  of  Joshua,  Gideon,  Jonathan,  Asa,  Je- 
hosaphat ;  wherein  very  small  forces  by  uncouth  means  did 
subdue  formidable  powers :  this  doth  argue  that  God  doth  in- 
terpose ;  '  with  whom,'  as  it  is  said,  '  it  is  all  one  to  save  by 
many,  or  by  few,  and  those  that  have  no  power  ;' whose  '  power 
is  perfected  in  weakness;'  who  '  breaketh  the  arm  of  the 
wicked,'  and  '  weakeneth  the  strength  of  the  mighty,'  and 
'  delivereth  the  poor  from  him  that  is  too  strong  for  him.' 

Also,  when  great  policy  and  craft  do  effect  nothing,  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  in  plain  cases,  to  oversee  things  most 
obvious  and  palpable  :  when  profane,  malicious,  subtile,  trea- 
cherous politicians  (such  as  Abimelech,  Achitophel,  Haman, 
Sejanus,  Stilipo,  Borgia,  with  many  like  occurring  in  story) 
are  not  only  supplanted  in  their  wicked  contrivances,  but  dis- 
mally chastised  for  them  :  the  occurrences  do  more  than  insi- 
nuate divine  wisdom  to  intervene,  countermining  and  confound- 
ing; such  devices.  For  he  it  is,  who,  as  the  Scripture  telleth 
us,  '  maketh  the  diviners  mad  ;'  '  turneth  wise  men  backward, 
and  maketh  their  knowlege  foolish  ;'  '  disappointeth  the  devices 
of  the  crafty,  so  that  their  hands  cannot  perform  their  enter- 
prise ;  taketh  the  wise  in  their  own  craftiness,  and  turneth 
down  the  counsel  of  the  froward  headlong.' 

*  Vid.  Artabani  Orat.  anud  Herod.  Polymn.  pag.  246.— Horn.  IL 
ir.  ver.  688. 


ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


205 


Whenever  a  just  cause  or  honest  design,  without  any  support 
or  succor  of  worldly  means,  (without  authority,  power,  wit, 
learning,  eloquence,)  doth  against  all  opposition  of  violence  and 
art  prevail ;  this  signiheth  him  to  yield  a  special  countenance 
and  aid  thereto,  who,  to  depress  human  pride,  and  advance  his 
own  glory,  '  hath  chosen  the  foolish  things  of  the  world  to  con- 
found 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  con- 
trived in  darkness,  are  by  improbable  means,  by  unaccountable 
accidents  disclosed  and  brought  to  light ;  '  a  bird  of  the  air,' 
as  the  wise  man  speaketh,  '  telling  the  matter  ;'  '  the  stones  in 
the  wall,'  as  it  is  in  the  prophet,  'crying  out  '  Treason.  The 
king  cannot  sleep :  to  divert  him  the  chronicle  is  called  for  ; 
Mordecai's  service  is  there  pitched  on  ;  an  inquiry  is  made 
concerning  his  recompense ;  honor  is  decreed  him  ;  so  doth 
Hainan'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  suggesting  the  manner  of  execution  ;  that 
carried  to  the  wise  king,  who  presently  smelleth  it  out :  so  this 
day's  plot  was  discovered.  Such  events,  whence  can  they  well 
proceed,  but  from  the  all-piercing  and  ever-watchful  care  of 
i  him,  '  whose  eyes,'  as  Elibu  said,  '  are  on  the  ways  of  man, 
and  he  seeth  all  his  goings?'  *  There  is  no  darkness  nor  sha- 
dow of  death,  where,  the  workers  of  iniquity  shall  hide  them- 
|  selves ;'  for  '  hell  is  naked  before  him,  and  destruction  hath  no 
covering.' 

I    Also,  when  ill  men  by  their  perverse  wiliness  do  notably 

:  befool  and  insnare  themselves,  laying  trains  to  blow  up  their 
wn  designs,  involving  themselves  in  that  ruin  and  mischief  into 

j  !  which  they  studied  to  draw  others;  as  when  Saul,  exposing 
David's  life  to  hazard,  increaseth  his  honor ;  when  the  Per- 
sian nobles,  incensing  the  king  against  Daniel,  do  occasion  his 
growth  in  favor,  with  their  own  destruction  ;  when  Hainan,  by 

I  jontriving  to  destroy  God's  people,  doth  advance  them  and 


266 


BARROW. — SERMON  XI. 


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  the  devices  that  they  imagined ;'  '  in 
the  net  which  they  hid  is  their  own  foot  taken  :'  '  he  made  a 
pit  and  digged  it,  and  is  fallen  into  the  ditch  which  he  made 
'  his  mischief  shall  return  on  his  own  head,  and  his  violent  deal- 
ings shall  come  on  his  own  pate  :'  these  are  pregnant  evidences 
of  God's  just  and  wise  providence  ;  for  '  the  Lord  is  known  by 
the  judgment  that  he  executeth  ;  the  wicked  is  snared  in  the 
work  of  his  own  hand.' 

All  such  occurrences,  containing  in  them  somewhat,  if  not 
downrightly  miraculous,  yet  very  admirable,  in  like  manner 
deflecting  from  the  stream  of  human  affairs,  as  miracles  do  sur- 
mount the  course  of  nature,  most  reasonably  may,  most  justly 
should,  be  ascribed  to  the  special  operation  of  him, who  'only 
doeth  wonderful  things.' 

2.  Another  character  of  special  providence  is,  the  seasona- 
bleness  and  suddenness  of  events.  When  that,  which  in  itself 
is  not  ordinary,  nor  could  well  be  expected,  doth  fall  out  hap- 
pily, 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 
acknowlege  with  the  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  connexion  thereof  with  circumstances  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  faileth  him,  and  no  man  careth  for  his 
soul :'  if  then  evmipos  (3ot)deta,  '  an  opportune  succor  '  doth 
arrive  ;  he  is  then  unreasonable  and  ingrateful  if  he  doth  not 
avow  a  special  providence,  and  thankfully  ascribe  that  event 
unto  him  who  is  *  our  refuge  and  strength,  a  very  present  help 
in  trouble  ;'  '  a  strength  to  the  poor,  a  strength  to  the  needy  in 
his  distress,  a  refuge  from  the  storm,  a  shadow  from  the  heat  ;' 
'  the  hope  of  Israel,  and  the  Saviour  thereof  in  time  of  trouble.' 
This  is  that  for  which,  in  the  107th  Psalm,  the  divine  goodness 
is  so  magnificently  celebrated  ;  this  is  the  burden  of  that  pathe- 


ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


2G7 


tical  rapture,  wherein  we  by  repeated  wishes  and  exhortations 
are  instigated  to  bless  God ;  his  wonderfully  relieving  the 
children  of  men  in  their  need  and  distress:  this  is  that  which 
God  himself  in  the  prophet  representeth  as  a  most  satisfactory 
demonstration  of  his  providence.  '  When  the  poor  and  needy 
m  ek  w  ater,  and  there  is  none,  and  their  tongue  faileth  for  thirst, 
T  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 
midst  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  it.' 

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  season- 
able 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  on  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 
behokleth  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  checketh,  putteth  in  a 
spoke,  he  stoppeth,  he  tumbleth  them  down,  or  turneth  them 
backward.  Thus  was  Hainan's  plot  dashed,  when  he  had  pro- 
cured a  royal  decree,  when  he  had  fixed  a  time,  when  he  had 
issued  forth  letters  to  destroy  God's  people.  Thus  was  Pharaoh 
overwhelmed,  when  he  had  just  overtaken  the  children  of 
Israel.  Thus  were  the  designs  of  Abimelech,  of  Absalom,  of 
Adonijah,  of  Sanballat  nipped.  Thus  when  Sennacherib  with 
an  unmatchable  host  had  encamped  against  Jerusalem,  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  dis- 


2oa 


BARROW. — SERMON  XI. 


charge  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  author- 
ity projected  to  overthrow  our  religion,  his  plot  soon  was 
quashed,  and  his  life  snapped  away  by  an  unknown  hand. 
Thus,  1  whenever  the  enemy  doth  come  in  like  a  flood,'  (threa- 
tening immediately  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  prevent  the  beginnings  of  wicked  designs  ;*  he  could 
supplant  them  in  their  first  onsets  ;  he  could  any  where  suffia- 
minate  and  subvert  them  :  but  he  rather  winketh  for  a  time, 
and  suftereth  the  designers  to  go  on,  till  they  are  mounted  t  to 
the  top  of  confidence,  and  good  people  are  cast  on  the  brink  of 
ruin  ;  then  ano  nr)xa>>fjs,l  surprisingly,  unexpectedly  he  striketh 
in  with  effectual  succor ;  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  acknowleged,  when  he  snatcheth  us 
from  the  jaws  of  danger,  when  '  our  soul  doth  escape  as  a  bird 
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  public  is  much  concerned.  To  entitle  every  petty 
chance  that  arriveth  to  special  providence,  may  signify  light- 
ness ;  to  father  on  God  the  mischiefs  issuing  from  our  sin  and 
folly,  may  savor  of  profaneness  ;  but  to  ascribe  every  grand§  and 
beneficial  event  unto  his  good  hand,  hath  ever  been  reputed 

*  Ei  5e  /x^)  £k  ■xpoointwv,  /M}8e  eiSeas,  iSos  aura  toiovtov,  &c. — Vid. 

Chrys.  ad  Olymp. 

+  "Orav  KoputpaBrj,  Srav  avfaBij,  &C. — Ibid. 
J  Nec  Deus  intersit,  nisi  dignus  vindice  nodus 
Incident. 

§  Magna  dii  curant,  parva  negligunt. — Cic.  ii.  de  Nat.  Deor. 


ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


209 


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  appertain- 
ing to  his  charge,  and  may  appear  to  be  so  by  good  argumen- 
tation a  priori.  For,  that  God  doth  govern  our  affairs,  may 
be  deduced  from  his  essential  attributes ;  and,  consequently, 
that  he  doth  in  especial  manner  order  these  things,  which  are 
the  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  providence  ;  so  that 
nothing  in  nature  may  deviate  from  its  course,  or  transgress  the 
bounds  prescribed  to  it.  He  thereby  '  clotheth  the  grass  of  the 
field  ;'  '  he  provideth  for  the  raven  his  food,  and  the  young  lions 
seek  their  meat  from  him  ;'  without  his  care  •  a  sparrow  doth 
not  fall  to  the  ground by  it,  '  all  the  hairs  of  our  head 
i  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  affection. 
He  therefore  hath  a  main  stroke  in  all  revolutions  and  changes 
of  state  :  he  presideth  in  all  great  counsels  and  undertakings ; 
in  the  waging  of  war,  in  the  settlement  of  peace  ;  in  the  dispen- 
sation of  victory  and  good  success.  He  is  peculiarly  interested 
in  the  protection  of  princes,  the  chief  '  ministers  of  his  king- 
dom ;'  and  in  preservation  of  his  people,  the  choice  object  of 
his  care,  from  violent  invasions,  and  treacherous  surprises ;  so 
as  to  prevent  disasters  incident,  or  to  deliver  from  them.  '  It 
is  he  that,'  as  the  psalmist  saith,  '  doth  give  salvation  unto 
kings ;  who  delivereth  David  his  servant  from  the  hurtful 
sword.'  It  is  he  that  continually  '  keepeth  Israel  without  ever 
sleeping,  or  slumbering ;'  who  'is  the  hope  of  Israel,  and  the 
Saviour  thereof;'  who  '  is  in  the  midst  of  her,  that  she  shall 

•  Quicquid  magnam  utilitatem  generi  adferret  humano,  id  non 
sine  divina  bonitate  erga  homines  fieri  arbitrabantur. — Cic.  de  Nat. 
Deor.  lib.  ii. 


270 


BARROW.— SERMON  XI. 


not  be  moved  ;'  who  hath  declared  that  '  he  will  keep  her, 
and  that  right  early  ; '  that  '  he  will  not  cast  oft'  his  people,  nor 
forsake  his  inheritance ;'  that  •  no  weapon  formed  against  his 
church  shall  prosper;'  that  '  salvation  belongeth  to  the  Lord, 
and  his  blessing  is  on  his  people.'  When  therefore  any  remark- 
able event,  highly  conducing  to  the  public  good  of  church  and 
state,  (supporting  tbem  in  a  good  condition,  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  hath  hewn  the  snares  of  the 
ungodly  in  pieces.' 

4.  Another  like  mark  of  special  providence  is,  the  righteous- 
ness 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  right,  the  guardian  of  innocence,  the 
patron  of  truth,  and  promoter  of  goodness.  '  The  Lord  is  a 
refuge  to  the  oppressed  :'  '  he  is  a  father  of  the  fatherless,  and 
a  judge  of  the  widow  :'  '  he  will  maintain  the  cause  of  the 
afflicted,  and  the  right  of  the  poor  :'  '  he  executeth  righteous- 
ness, and  judgment  for  all  that  are  oppressed  :'  '  he  blesseth 
the  righteous,  and  compasseth  him  with  favor  as  with  a  shield  : ' 
'  he  preserveth  the  souls  of  the  righteous,  and  delivereth  them 
out  of  the  hand  of  the  ungodly  :'  '  all  his  paths  are  mercy 
and  truth,  unto  such  as  keep  his  covenant  aud  his  testimonies.' 
Whenever  therefore  right  is  oppressed,  or  perilously  invaded  ; 
when  innocence  is  grossly  abused,  or  sorely  beset;  when  piety 
is  fiercely  opposed,  or  cunningly  uudermined  ;  when  good  men 
for  the  profession  of  truth,  or  the  practice  of  virtue,  are  perse- 
cuted, or  grievously  threatened  with  mischief ;  then  may  we 
presume  that  God  is  not  unconcerned,  nor  will  prove  backward 
to  reach  forth  his  succor.  And  when  accordingly  we  find  that 
signal  aid  or  deliverance  do  then  arrive,  it  is  most  reasonable 
to  suppose  that  God  particularly  hath  engaged  himself,  and 
exerted  his  power  in  their  behalf.  For  seeing  it  is  his  proper 
and  peculiar  work,  seeing  it  most  becometh  aud  behoveth  him 
to  appear  in  such  cases,  affording  his  helpful  countenance  ; 


ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


■211 


when  he  doeth  it,  we  should  be  ready  to  acknowlege  it.  In 
such  a  case,  « the  hand  of  the  Lord  shall  be  known  toward 
his  servants,  and  his  indignation  toward  his  enemies,'  saith  the 
prophet. 

5.  Another  character  is,  the  correspondence  of  events  to  the 
prayers  and  desires  of  good  men.  For  seeing  it  is  the  duty  and 
constant  practice  of  good  men,  in  all  exigencies  to  implore 
God's  help  ;  seeing  such  prayers  have,  as  St.  James  telleth  us,  a 
mighty  energy,  it  being  God's  property  by  them  to  be  moved 
to  impart  his  powerful  assistance  ;  seeing  God  most  plainly 
and  frequently  hath  declared,  and  obliged  himself  by  promise, 
that  he  will  hear  them,  so  as  to  perform  whatever  is  expedient 
in  their  behalf ;  seeing  we  have  many  notable  experiments 
recorded  in  Scripture  (as  those  of  Asa,  Jehosaphat,  Hezekiah, 
Klias,  Daniel,  and  the  like)  of  prayers  bringing  down  wonder- 
ful effects  from  heaven,  with  which  the  testimonies  of  all 
times  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  perform- 
ance 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  his  anointed  ;  he  will  hear  him  from  his  holy  heaven, 
with  the  saving  strength  of  his  right  hand  :'  just  cause  have  we, 
according  to  his  pattern,  thankfully  to  acknowlege  God's  favor 
in  answering  our  petitions ;  '  The  king,'  said  he,  '  shall  joy  in 
thy  strength,  O  Lord,  and  in  thy  salvation  how  greatly  shall 
he  rejoice !  For  thou  hast  given  him  his  heart's  desire,  and 
hast  not  withholden  the  requests  of  his  lips.' 

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  on  which  they  are  grounded.    '  Punishments,' 

*  U6crat  juupiaSes  cb'SptDi'  Kal  (pd\cryyes,  '6aas  UtTtiofTts  fiSvov  rj/iM,  leal  ©eir 
f3ov\r)8eh  KaTeipyaoaro  ; — Naz.  Orat.  4. 

How  many  myriads  and  squadrons  of  men  were  there,  whom  we 
only  praying,  and  God  willing,  discomfited?  saith  Nazianzene  in  re- 
ference to  the  defeating  of  Julian's  design. 


272 


BARROW.  —  SERMON  XI. 


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  often  be  legible  in  the  recom- 
pences  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  acknowlegement  of  his  equity  in  so  dealing 
with  them.  So  when  humble  modesty  is  advanced  to  honor, 
and  ambitious  confidence  is  thrown  into  disgrace ;  when  libe- 
rality is  blessed  with  increase,  and  avarice  is  cursed  with  decay 
of  estate;  when  craft  incurreth  disappointment,  and  simplicity 
findeth  good  success ;  when  haughty  might  is  shattered,  and 
helpless  innocence  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  acci- 
dent which  almost  continually  doth  happen  ;)  when  treacherous 
men  by  their  own  confidents,  or  by  themselves,  are  betrayed ; 
when  retaliations  of  vengeance  are  ministered,  extorting  con- 
fessions like  to  that  of  Adoni-bezek,  *  As  I  have  done,  so  God 
hath  requited  me  ;'  deserving  such  exprobrations  as  that  of  Sa- 
muel to  Agag,  '  As  thy  sword  hath  made  women  childless,  so 
shall  thy  mother  be  childless  among  women  ;'  grounding  such 
reflexions  as  that  concerning  Antiochus,  '  Thus  the  murderer 
and  blasphemer  having  suffered  most  grievously,  as  he  en- 
treated other  men,  so  died  he  a  miserable  death  ;'  by  such  oc- 
currences the  finger  of  God  doth  point  out  and  indicate  itself ; 
they  speak  themselves  immediately  to  come  from  that  just  God, 
who  doth  uvTavobibovai,  render  to  men  answerably  to  their 
doings;  who  payeth  men  their  due,  sometimes  in  value,  often 
in  specie,  according  to  the  strictest  way  of  reckoning.  '  He,' 
as  the  prophet  saith,  '  is  great  in  counsel,  and  mighty  in  work  : 
for  his  eyes  are  open  to  all  the  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  conducible  to  his 
holy  designs  of  instructing  and  correcting  offenders.   He  there- 


ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


273 


fore  hath  declared  it  to  be  his  way.  « It  is,'  (saith  the  pro- 
phet, directing  his  speech  to  the  instruments  of  divine  vengeance 
on  Babylon,')  '  the  vengeance  of  the  Lord  :  take  vengeance  on 
her ;  as  she  hath  done,  do  unto  her.'  And,  '  the  day  of  the 
Lord'  (saith  another  prophet,  concerning  the  like  judgment  on 
Edom,) '  is  near  on  all  the  heathen  :  as  thou  hast  done,  it  shall 
be  done  unto  thee  ;  thy  reward  shall  return  on  thine  own  head.' 
Thereby  doth  God  mean  to  declare  himself  the  Judge  and  Go- 
vernor of  men:  for,  '  I  will,'  saith  he  in  Ezekiel,  '  do  unto 
them  after  their  way,  and  according  to  their  deserts  will  I  judge 
them  ;  and  they  shall  know  that  I  am  the  Lord.'  Farther, 

7.  Another  argument  of  special  providence  is,  the  harmoni- 
ous conspiracy  of  various  accidents  to  one  end  or  effect.  If 
that  one  thing  should  hit  advantageously  to  the  production  of 
some  considerable  event,  it  may  with  some  plausibility  be  attri- 
buted to  fortune,  or  common  providence  :  yet  that  divers  things, 
having  no  dependence  or  coherence  one  with  the  other,  in 
divers  places,  through  several  times,  should  all  join  their  forces 
to  compass  it,  cannot  well  otherwise  than  be  ascribed  to  God's 
special  care  wisely  directing,  to  his  own  hand  powerfully 
wielding,  those  concurrent  instruments  to  one  good  purpose. 
For  it  is  beside  the  nature,  it  is  beyond  the  reach  of  fortune,  to 
range  various  causes  in  such  order.  Blind  fortune  cannot  ap- 
prehend 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  treachery  of  Judas,  the  strange 
malignity  of  the  Jewish  rulers,  the  prodigious  levity  of  the  peo- 
ple, the  wonderful  easiness  of  Pilate,  with  other  notable  acci- 
dents, to  have  jumped  in  order  thereto.  So  also  that  a  mali- 
cious traitor  should  conceive  kindness  toward  any,  that  he 
should  be  mistaken  in  the  object  of  his  favor,  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  des- 
cry it:  these  things  so  happily  meeting,  may  argue  God  (who 


274 


BARROW. — SERMON  XI, 


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  conspiracy. 

Such  are  some  characters  of  special  providence ;  each  of 
which  singly  appearing  in  any  occurrence  would  in  a  conside- 
rate man  breed  an  opinion  thereof;  each  of  them  being  very 
congruous  to  the  supposition  of  it ;  no  such  appearances  being 
otherwise  so  clearly  and  cleverly  explicable,  as  by  assigning 
the  divine  hand  for  their  principal  cause.  But  the  connexion 
of  them  all  in  one  event  (when  divers  odd  accidents  do  befal 
at  a  seasonable  time,  according  to  exigency  for  the  public 
benefit,  the  preservation  of  princes,  the  security  of  God's  peo- 
ple, the  protection  of  right,  the  maintenance  of  truth  and  piety, 
according  to  the  wishes  and  prayers  of  good  men,  with  proper 
retribution  and  vengeance  on  the  wretched  designers  of  mischief ; 
such  a  complication,  I  say,  of  these  marks  in  one  event)  may 
thoroughly  suffice  to  raise  a  firm  persuasion,  to  force  a  confi- 
dent acknowlegement  concerning  God's  providence,  in  any  con- 
siderate and  ingenuous  person  :  it  readily  will  dispose  such 
persons  on  any  such  occasion  to  say,  '  This  is  the  Lord's  doing, 
and  it  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes.' 

Notwithstanding  therefore  any  obscurity  or  intricacy  that 
sometimemay  appear  in  the  course  of  Providence,  notwithstand- 
ing any  general  exceptions  that  may  by  perverse  incredulity  be 
alleged  against  the  conduct  of  things,  there  are  good  marks  ob- 
servable, 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 
corrupt  affections)  we  may  discern  and  understand  God's  doing. 
Which  to  do  is  the  first  duty  specified  in  my  text :  on  which 
having  insisted  so  largely,  I  shall  (hoping  you  will  favor  me 
with  a  little  patience)  briefly  touch  the  rest. 

II.  It  is  the  duty  of  us  all,  on  such  remarkable  occurrences 
of  Providence,  to  fear  God :  '  all  men,'  it  is  said,  '  shall 
fear.'  It  is  our  duty  in  such  cases  to  be  affected  with  all  sorts 
of  fear  :  with  a  fear  of  awful  dread,  with  a  fear  of  hearty  rever- 
ence, with  a  fear  of  sober  caution  ;  yea,  sometimes  with  a  fear 
of  dejecting  consternation.  When  God  doth  appear  '  clad 
with  his  robes  of  vengeance  and  zeal,'  denouncing  and  dis- 


ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


275 


charging  judgment ;  when  he  representeth  himself  '  fearful  in 
praises,  terrible  in  his  doings  toward  the  children  of  men,' 
'  working  terrible  things  in  righteousness  ;'  it  should  strike  into 
our  hearts  a  dread  of  his  glorious  majesty,  of  his  mighty  power, 
of  his  severe  justice,  of  '  his  glorious  and  fearful  name :'  it 
should  instil  into  our  minds  a  reverence  of  his  excellent  wis- 
dom, his  exceeding  goodness,  his  perfect  holiness :  it  should 
breed  in  our  souls  a  solicitous  care  of  displeasing  and  provok- 
ing him  :  it  should  cause  us  in  our  hearts  to  shake  and  tremble 
before  him.  Then  is  that  of  the  psalmist  to  be  put  in  prac- 
tice, '  let  all  the  earth  fear  the  Lord  :  let  all  the  inhabitants 
of  the  world  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  observing  the 
danger  of  incurring  punishments  like  to  those  which  we  behold 
inflicted  on  presumptuous  transgressors  ;  on  those  who  do  hei- 
nously violate  right,  or  furiously  impugn  truth,  or  profanely 
despise  piety ;  who  earnestly  prosecute  wicked  enterprises ; 
who  persecute  the  friends  of  God  with  outrageous  violence,  or 
treacherous  subtilty.  On  infliction  of  such  punishments,  '  all 
the  people  shall  hear,  and  fear,  and  do  no  more  presumptu- 
ously,' saith  God  himself,  declaring  the  nature  and  drift  of 
them.  They  do  plainly  demonstrate  that  there  is  no  presum- 
ing to  escape  being  detected  in  our  close  machinations  by 
God's  all-seeing  eye;  being  defeated  in  our  bold  attempts  by 
God's  almighty  baud ;  behig  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  experiments  of  divine  power  and  justice  do  not  awe  us, 
and  fright  us  from  sin.  '  When  the  lion  roareth,  who  will  not 
fear?'  'When  the  trumpet  is  blown  in  the  city,  shall  not  the 
people  be  afraid  V  Shall  he,  at  whom  '  the  mountains  quake, 
and  the  hills  melt ;'  whose  '  indignation  the  nations  are  not 
able  to  abide ;'  at  whose  '  wrath  the  earth  doth  shake  and 
tremble;'  at  whose  'reproof  the  pillars  of  heaven  are  asto- 
nished ;'  shall  he  visibly  frown,  shall  his  wrath  flame  out,  shall 


276 


BARROW. — SERMON  XI. 


he  shake  his  rod  of  exemplary  vengeance  over  us,  and  we  stand 
void  of  sense  or  fear?  If  so,  then  surely  a  brutish  dotage,  or 
a  gigantic  stoutness  doth  possess  us. 

III.  We  are  in  such  cases  obliged  to  '  declare  God's  work  :' 
that  is,  openly  to  acknowlege  and  avow,  to  applaud  and  cele- 
brate the  special  providence  of  God,  with  his  adorable  perfec- 
tions displayed  in  such  events  ;  to  the  glory  of  God's  name,  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  providential  occurrences,  like  dumb  beasts,  with  a  dull  or 
careless  silence,  as  if  we  did  not  mind  them,  or  were  not  con- 
cerned in  them  :  we  should  not  suppress  or  stifle  the  knowlege 
of  them  in  our  breasts,  as  if  they  were  barely  matters  of  private 
consideration  and  use;  we  should  not  let  our  observation  and 
resentment  of  them  be  fruitless,  so  as  to  yield  no  honor  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  acknowlegement  of  God's 
power  and  wisdom,  in  acclamation  to  his  justice  and  goodness. 
This  is  the  due  improvement  of  our  glory  ;  that  peculiar  ex- 
cellency, wherein  chiefly  (except  in  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  us.  '  I  will  speak  of 
the  glorious  honor  of  thy  majesty,  and  of  thy  wondrous  works. 
Men  shall  speak  of  the  might  of  thy  terrible  acts ;  and  I  will 
declare  thy  greatness.'  '  They  shall  speak  of  the  glory  of  thy  king- 
dom, and  talk  of  thy  power.'  So  did  he  signify  his  resolution. 
'  lhave  not  hid  thy  righteousness  within  my  heart;  I  have  de- 
clared thy  faithfulness  and  thy  salvation  :  I  have  not  concealed 
thy  loving-kindness  and  thy  truth  from  the  great  congregation.' 
So  his  conscience  testified  of  his  practice.  '  O  that  men  would 
praise  the  Lord  for  his  goodness,  and  for  his  wonderful  works 
to  the  children  of  men  :  that  they  would  offer  the  sacrifice  of 


ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


277 


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  unto  the 
Lord,  bless  his  name :  show  forth  his  salvation  from  day  to 
day.'  'Declare  his  glory  among  the  heathen,  his  wonders 
among  all  people.'  '  Come  and  see  the  works  of  God.'  '  Sing- 
forth  the  honor  of  his  name,  make  his  praise  glorious.'  '  O 
give  thanks  unto  the  Lord ;  call  on  his  name ;  make  known 
his  deeds  among  the  people.'  So  doth  he  summon,  so  doth  he 
urge  us  to  this  practice;  and  in  his  deportment  we  may  see  our 
duty. 

IV.  It  is  peculiarly  the  duty  and  practice  of  good  men 
on  such  occasions  to  feel  and  to  express  religious  joy.  '  The 
righteous  shall  be  glad  in  the  Lord.'  Good  men  indeed  then 
have  great  matter,  and  much  cause,  on  many  accounts,  to  be 
glad. 

It  becometh  them  to  rejoice,  as  having  an  universal  compla- 
cence in  God's  proceedings,  as  gratefully  relishing  all  dis- 
pensations of  Providence.  They,  as  pious,  are  disposed  to 
bless  and  praise  God  for  all  things  incident,  and  cannot  there- 
fore but  rejoice;  joy  being  an  inseparable  companion  of  grati- 
tude and  praise.  Hence,  'light  is  sown  for  the  righteous,  and 
gladness  for  the  upright  in  heart.'  Hence,  '  the  voice  of  sal- 
vation and  rejoicing  is  in  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  provi- 
dence notably  discovered,  to  the  confirmation  of  their  faith,  and 
cherishing  their  hopes  ;  together  with  the  conviction  of  infide- 
lity, and  confusion  of  profaneness.  '  Our  heart,' saith  the  psalm- 
ist, '  shall  rejoice  in  him,  because  we  have  trusted  in  his  holy 
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.' 

It  is  to  them  no  small  pleasure  to  behold  God's  holy  perfec- 
tions 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,' 


278 


BARROW. — SERMON  XI. 


saith  the  psalmist,  '  O  ye  righteous,  and  give  thanks  at  the  re- 
membrance 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  favor,  his  truth  and  fidelity,  his 
bounty  and  munificence  toward  them,  expressed  in  such  watch- 
ful 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.*  '  I  will,' 
saith  David,  '  sing  unto  the  Lord,  because  he  hath  dealt  boun- 
tifully with  me.'  '  Because  thou  hast  been  my  helper,  therefore 
in  the  shadow  of  thy  wings  I  will  rejoice.'  '  My  lips  shall 
greatly  rejoice  in  thee;  and  my  soul,  which  thou  hast  re- 
deemed.' '  I  will  be  glad,  and  rejoice  in  thy  mercy  ;  for  thou 
hast  considered  my  trouble,  and  hast  known  my  soul  in  adver- 
sities.' '  The  Lord  hath  done  great  things  for  us,  whereof  we 
are  glad.'  '  Let  all  those  that  put  their  trust  in  thee  rejoice  : 
let  them  ever  shout  for  joy,  because  thou  defendest  them.' 

They  are  also  greatly  refreshed  with  apprehension  of  the  happy 
fruits  sprouting  from  such  dispensations  of  Providence  :  such 
as  are  the  benefit  of  mankind,  the  peace  and  prosperity  of  the 
civil  state,  the  preservation,  settlement,  enlargement,  advance- 
ment of  God's  church,  the  support  of  right,  the  succor  of  inno- 
cence, the  maintenance  of  truth,  the  encouragement  and  fur- 
therance 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  then- 
own  best  interest,  (which  is  no  other  than  the  advantage  of 
goodness,)  their  chief  honor,  (which  consists  in  the  promotion 
of  divine  glory,)  their  truest  content,  (which  is  placed  in  the 
prosperity  of  Sion,)  are  highly  furthered;  how  can  they  look 

*  Sen.  de  Benef.  ii.  22.  Cum  accipiendum  judicaverimus,  hilares 
accipiauius,  profitcntes  gaudium,  &c. — Vid.  ib.  30. 


ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


27? 


on  them  springing  up,  without  great  delight  and  complacence  ? 
'  O,'  saith  the  psalmist,  '  sing  unto  the  Lord — for  he  hath  done 
marvellous  things.  He  hath  remembered  his  mercy  and  his 
truth  toward  the  house  of  Israel:  all  the  ends  of  the  earth  have 
seen  the  salvation  of  our  God.'  And  '  sing,  O  heavens,'  crieth 
the  prophet,  '  and  be  joyful,  O  earth,  and  break  forth  into 
singing,  O  ye  mountains  :  for  the  Lord  hath  comforted  his 
people,  and  will  have  mercy  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  florish  like  an 
herb  :  and  the  hand  of  the  Lord  shall  be  known  toward  his 
servants,  and  his  indignation  toward  his  enemies.' 

Even  in  the  frustration  of  wicked  designs,  attended  with  se- 
vere execution  of  vengeance  on  the  contrivers  and  abettors  of 
them,  they  may  have  a  pleasant  satisfaction  ;  they  must  then 
yield  a  cheerful  applause  to  divine  justice.  'The  righteous,' 
saith  the  psalmist,  '  shall  rejoice  when  he  seeth  the  vengeance  :' 
and,  '  Jet  the  wicked,'  saith  he,  '  perish  at  the  presence  of 
God  ;  but  let  the  righteous  be  glad,  let  them  rejoice  before 
God,  yea,  let  them  exceedingly  rejoice.'  Whence,  at  God's 
infliction  of  judgment  on  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  Babylon,  in  the  Apo- 
calypse it  is  likewise  said,  '  Rejoice  over  her,  thou  heaven,  and 
ye  holy  Apostles  and  prophets  ;  for  God  hath  avenged  you  on 
her.'  Farther, 

V.  The  next  duty  prescribed  to  good  men  in  such  case  is,  to 
'  trust  in  God,'  that  is,  to  have  their  affiance  in  God  (on  all 
such  like  occasions,  in  all  urgencies  of  need)  settled,  improved, 
and  corroborated  thereby.  This  indeed  is  the  proper  end,  im- 
mediately regarding  us,  of  God's  special  providence,  disclosing 
itself  in  any  miraculousor  in  any  remarkable  way ;  to  nourish  in 
well-disposed  minds  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  incen- 
tives, driving  them  in  all  exigencies  to  seek  God's  help  ;  they 
are  most  convincing  evidences  that  God  is  abundantly  able, 


280 


BARROW. — SERMON  XI. 


very  willing,  and  ever  ready  to  succor  them.  '  They,'  saith  the 
psalmist,  '  that  know  thy  name  will  put  their  trust  in  thee  ;  for 
thou,  Lord,  hast  not  forsaken  them  that  seek  thee.'  And,  '  I,' 
saith  he,  '  will  abide  in  thy  tabernacle  for  ever ;  I  will  trust 
in  the  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  aggravation  of  diffidence  in 
God,  that  having  '  tasted  and  seen  that  the  Lord  is  good ;' 
having  felt  so  manifest  experience  of  divine  goodness  ;  having 
received  so  notable  pledges  of  God's  favorable  inclination  to 
help  us ;  we  yet  will  not  rely  on  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,  (notwithstanding  so  palpable  demon- 
strations of  his  kindness,)  by  distrusting  him,  do  in  effect  ques- 
tion the  sincerity  of  his  friendship,  or  theconstancy  of  his  good- 
ness toward  us. 

VI.  Good  men  on  such  occasions  should  glory  :  '  all  the  up- 
right in  heart  shall  glory.'  Should  glory,  that  is,  in  contem- 
plation of  such  providences  feeling  sprightly  elevations  of  mind 
and  transports  of  affection,  they  should  exhibit  triumphant  de- 
monstrations of  satisfaction  and  alacrity.  It  becometh  them  not 
in  such  cases  to  be  dumpish  or  demure ;  but  jocund  and  crank 
in  their  humor,  brisk  and  gay  in  their  looks,  pleasantly  flippant 
and  free  in  their  speech,  jolly  and  debonair  in  their  behavior; 
every  way  signifying  the  extreme  complacency  they  take  in 
God's  doing,  and  the  full  content  they  taste  in  their  state.  They 
with  solemn  exultation  should  triumph  in  such  events,  as  in  vic- 
tories achieved  by  the  glorious  hand  of  God  in  their  behalf,  in 
approbation  of  their  cause,  in  favor  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  favor)  sejactare, 
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 


ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


281 


with  a  sober  confidence  and  cheerfulness)  insult  on  baffled  im- 
piety,* by  their  expressions  and  demeanor  upbraiding  the  folly, 
the  baseness,  the  impotency  and  wretchedness  thereof,  in  com- 
petition with  the  wisdom,  in  opposition  to  the  power  of  God, 
their  friend  and  patron.  For  such  carriage  in  such  cases  we 
have  the  practice  and  the  advice  of  the  psalmist  to  warrant 
and  direct  us.  '  In  God,'  saith  he,  '  we  boast  all  the  day  long, 
and  praise  thy  name  for  ever.'  '  Thou,  Lord,  hast  made  me  glad 
through  thy  work  ;  and  I  will  triumph  in  the  works  of  thy 
hands.'  '  We  will  rejoice  in  thy  salvation ;  and  in  the  name 
of  our  God  we  will  set  up  our  banners.'  '  Glory  ye  in  his  holy 
name  ;  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,  and  gather  us  from  among 
the  heathen,  to  give  thanks  unto  thy  name,  and  to  triumph  in 
thy  praise.'  Such  should  be  the  result  (on  us)  of  God's  merci- 
ful dispensations  toward  his  people. 

I  shall  only  farther  remark  that  the  word  here  used  is  by 
the  Greek  rendered,  eTrnivedi'iaovTai,  '  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  wis- 
dom of  such  persons,  in  adhering  to  God,  in  reposing  on  God's 
help,  in  embracing  such  courses  which  God  doth  approve  and 
bless :  they  plainly  tell  how  dear  such  persons  are  to  God ; 
how  incomparably  happy  in  his  favor,  how  impregnably  safe 
under  his  protection ;  as  having  his  infallible  wisdom  and  his 
invincible  power  engaged  on  their  side.  This  cannot  but  ren- 
der them  admirable,  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,  happy  is  that  people, 
whose  God  is  the  Lord.'  And  of  such  a  people,  that  declara- 
tion from  the  same  mouth  is  verified,  '  In  thy  name  shall  they 
rejoice  all  the  day  long,  and  in  thy  righteousness  shall  they  be 
exalted  :  for  thou  art  the  glory  of  their  strength,  and  in  thy 
favor  their  horn  shall  be  exalted.' 

•  Psal.  Hi.  6.  7.  The  righteous  shall  laugh  at  him,  (or,  deride 
bim,  in  this  manner;)  Lo,  this  is  the  man  that  made  not  God  his 
strength. 


282 


BARROW. — SERMON  XI. 


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  violent  assault  or  by  fraudulent  contrivance  levelled  against 
them.  I  should  apply  these  particulars  to  the  present  case 
solemnised  by  us  :  but  I  shall  rather  recommend  the  applica- 
tion to  your  sagacity,  than  farther  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  seasonable  disco- 
very of  this  execrable  plot,  (the  masterpiece  of  wicked  machi- 
nations 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  protection  of  right  and  truth, 
did  signalise  his  providence. 

You  will  be  affected  with  hearty  reverence  toward  the  gra- 
cious author  of  our  salvation,  and  with  humble  dread  toward 
the  just  awarder  of  vengeance  on  those  miscreant  wretches, 
who  '  digged  this  pit  and  fell  into  it  themselves.' 

You  will  be  ready  with  pious  acknowlegement  and  admira- 
tion of  God's  mercy,  his  justice,  his  wisdom,  to  declare  and 
magnify  this  notable  work  done  by  him  among  us. 

You  must  needs  feel  devout  resentments  of  joy  for  the  glory 
arising  to  God,  and  the  benefits  accruing  to  us  in  the  preserva- 
tion of  God's  anointed,  our  just  sovereign,  with  his  royal  pos- 
terity :  in  the  freeing  our  country  from  civil  broils,  disorders, 
and  confusions ;  from  the  yokes  of  usurpation  and  slavery  ; 
from  grievous  extortions  and  rapines ;  from  bloody  persecutions 
and  trials,  with  the  like  spawn  of  disastrous  and  tragical  con- 
sequences, by  this  design  threatened  on  it:  in  upholding  our 
church  (which  was  so  happily  settled,  and  had  so  long  glo- 
riously florished)  from  utter  ruin  :  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  cor- 
rupted it,)  together  with  a  pure  worship  of  God,  an  edifying 


ON  THE  GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 


283 


administration  of  God's  word  and  sacraments,  a  comely,  whole- 
some, and  moderate  discipline,  conformable  to  divine  prescrip- 
tion and  primitive  example ;  in  rescuing  us  from  having  im- 
pious errors,  scandalous  practices,  and  superstitious  rites,  with 
merciless  violence  obtruded  on  us  :  in  continuing  therefore  to 
us  the  most  desirable  comforts  and  conveniences  of  our  lives. 

You  farther  considering  this  signal  testimony  of  divine  good- 
ness, 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  factious  and  combustions, 
of  treasonable  conspiracies,  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  favor  toward  us  ; 
so  as  heartily  to  join  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  is  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  doth  won- 
drous things.  And  blessed  be  his  glorious  name  for  ever: 
and  let  the  whole  earth  be  filled  with  his  glory.  Amen,  and 
Amen.' 


284 


SUMMARY  OF 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  XII. 

PSALM  CXXXII.— VERSE  16. 

The  context  given  :  exordium  on  the  joyful  and  solemn  rite 
which  this  discourse  is  intended  to  celebrate:  occasion  and 
general  importance  of  the  text.  The  particular  promise  now 
to  be  treated  of ;  in  which  may  be  observed,  1.  the  Promiser, 
/:  2.  the  persons  especially  concerned  in  the  promise,  her 
priests  :  3.  the  thing  promised,  clothing  with  salvation. 

I.  The  Promiser,  /;  that  is,  the  Lord,  the  most  true,  con- 
stant, and  powerful  God,  whose  words  are  right,  and  all  whose 
works  are  done  in  truth ;  who  will  not  break  his  covenant,  nor 
alter  the  thing  that  is  gone  out  of  his  lips,  &c.  On  his 
glorious  attributes  and  perfections  we  rely  for  the  performance 
of  his  promises. 

II.  The  persons  whom  the  promise  mainly  regards,  her 
priests;  that  is,  persons  peculiarly  devoted  to  and  employed 
in  sacred  matters,  &c.  And  her  priests,  that  is,  the  priests  of 
Sion  ;  of  that  Sion,  which  the  Lord  hath  chosen,  which  he  hath 
resolved  to  rest  and  reside  in  for  ever :  whence  it  appears  that 
the  priests  and  pastors  of  the  Christian  church  are  hereby,  if 
not  solely,  at  least  principally  designed.  This  confirmed  by 
the  following  arguments:  1.  because  the  covenant  here  men- 
tioned is  not  (as  to  its  main  parts)  of  a  conditional  or  temporary 
nature,  but  absolute  and  perpetual,  and  must  therefore  respect 
the  Christian  church,  that  of  the  Jews  having  long  since  been 
overthrown :  this  enlarged  on.  2.  The  completion  of  this 
individual  promise  is  by  the  prophets  foretold,  and  expressed 


SERMON  XII. 


285 


by  the  evangelists,  to  appertain  to  the  times  of  the  gospel : 
this  point  commented  on  and  explained.  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  truth 
on  which  the  Christian  church,  the  only  everlasting  temple  of 
God,  is  seated,  is  more  than  probable  from  the  constant  accep- 
tation of  it  in  this  sense  by  the  prophets,  &c.  :  this  shown. 
4.  The  manner  of  the  delivery  of  this  covenant,  and  its  con- 
firmation by  the  divine  oath,  argues  the  unconditional,  irrever- 
sible, and  perpetual  constitution  of  it :  see  Heb.  vi.  7.  Hence 
we  may  conclude  that  this  promise  principally  belongs,  and 
shall  infallibly  be  made  good  to  the  Christian  priesthood. 
Corollary  from  the  preceding  part  of  this  discourse,  that  the 
title  of  priest  deserves  not  the  reproach  that  is  sometimes  pro- 
fanely and  unjustly  cast  on  it. 

III.  The  matter  of  the  promise,  clothing  with  salvation: 
where  it  may  be  observed,  first,  that  the  usual  metaphor  of 
being  clothed,  denotes  in  the  sacred  dialect  a  complete  endow- 
ment with,  a  plentiful  enjoyment  of,  or  an  intire  application  to, 
that  thing  or  quality  with  which  a  person  is  said  to  be  clothed  : 
this  explained.  Secondly,  what  is  the  salvation  here  men- 
tioned? Salvation,  when  used  absolutely,  signifies  properly  in 
the  Hebrew,  a  deliverance  from,  or  removal  of  all  sorts  of 
inconvenience,  and  consequently  an  affluence  of  all  good  things  ; 
in  effect,  the  same  which  other  languages  call  felicity  and 
prosperity :  this  point  enlarged  on  ;  whence  it  is  deduced  that 
though  the  supreme  accomplishment  of  all  happiness,  the 
enjoyment  of  perfect  bliss  in  heaven,  be  agreeable  to  the 
Jewish  acceptation  of  the  word,  yet  temporal  and  external 
welfare,  conspicuous  and  visible  in  this  world,  is  not  excluded  : 
this  enlarged  on.  The  least  that  we  can  imagine  here  pro- 
mised to  the  priests  of  Sion  comprehends  these  three  things  : 
1.  a  free  and  safe  condition  of  life,  that  they  shall  enjoy 
good  security,  liberty,  and  tranquillity  :  2.    a  provision  of 


286 


SUMMARY  OF 


competent  subsistence,  so  that  they  shall  be  furnished  with  such 
reasonable  supplies  as  may  encourage  them  in  the  cheerful 
performance  of  their  duty  :  3.  a  suitable  degree  of  respect, 
and  a  station  among  men  which  may  commend  them  to  general 
esteem,  and  vindicate  them  from  contempt.  All  this  according 
to  the  most  moderate  interpretation,  the  phrase  implies  ;  and  on 
it  we  may  confidently  rely.  This  confidence  may  be  improved 
by  considering  the  reasons  that  might  induce  Almighty  God 
to  resolve  and  promise  thus  favorably  to  his  priests.  These 
comprised  under  three  heads.  1.  It  concerns  God's  honor. 
2.  The  good  of  the  church  requires  it.  3.  Equity  and  the 
reason  of  the  case  exacts  it.  The  preacher's  apology  for 
pleading  in  behalf  of  the  sacred  order  of  which  he  is  a  member. 
It  is  said  then, 

I.  God's  honor  is  concerned,  &c.  They  are  in  a  peculiar 
manner  his  servants,  (Joel  ii.  17.  2  Tim.  ii.  24.)  not  like 
ordinary  Christians,  but  by  way  of  excellency  so  styled.  They 
are  his  stewards  (Tit.  i.  7.).  If  the  church  be  God's  house, 
and  the  priests  the  stewards  of  that  house,  it  is  surely  no  mean 
station  which  they  obtain  therein.  They  are  also  builders  of 
that  house  (1  Cor.  iii.  10.)  ;  co-operators  with  God  (1  Cor. 
iii.  9.) ;  and,  lastly,  his  ambassadors,  delegated  by  him  to  treat 
of  peace,  and  to  solicit  a  fair  correspondence  between  heaven 
and  earth  (2  Cor.  v.  20.).  The  propriety  and  dignity  of  this 
character  enlarged  on.  Illustration  of  this  dignity  from  that  of 
human  government. 

It  is  not  a  matter  of  slight  consideration  how  plentiful  a 
provision  was  made  for  his  priests  by  the  Almighty,  in  that 
policy  which  he  himself  framed,  and  of  which  he  constituted 
himself  the  head.  And  though  we  are  not  in  all  cases  obliged 
punctually  to  follow  those  political  prescriptions,  yet  is  the 
reason  of  them  perpetual,  and  the  example  to  be  reverenced, 
especially  since  the  custom  of  all  times  in  some  measure  con- 
spires to  support  it.    Instances  of  extraordinary  honor  paid  to 


SERMON  XII. 


•287 


priests,  through  reverence  of  the  Deity,  in  the  cases  of 
Melchizedek,  Potipherah,  Jethro,  and  Aaron. 

The  Egyptian  Hierophantae,  Persian  Magi,  Gaulish  Druids, 
caliphs  and  muftis  of  the  Mahometans,  being  passed  over,  the 
peculiar  veneration  paid  to  their  priests  by  the  wise  and 
valiant  Romans  is  dilated  on.  Exordium  of  Cicero's  oration 
ad  Pontifices  introduced.  Example  of  our  own  magnanimous 
ancestors  on  the  same  point  considered. 

II.  The  good  of  the  church  requires  that  the  priesthood  be 
well  protected,  well  provided  for,  and  well  regarded.  That 
men  may  be  converted  from  iniquity,  and  brought  to  the  sincere 
practice  of  virtue,  is  the  chief  good  of  the  church,  that  to  which 
the  favor  of  God  is  annexed :  and  this  good  mainly  depends, 
partly  on  the  due  execution  of  the  priestly  office,  partly  on  the 
lit  disposition  of  the  people  to  comply  therewith ;  to  both 
which  effects  the  comfortable  estate  of  the  priesthood  is  re- 
quisite. The  priest  must  be  capable  to  instruct  with  advan- 
tage, and  the  people  disposed  to  learn  ;  but  what  alacrity  can 
he  be  master  of,  whose  mind  is  continually  distracted  by  care 
and  grief,  the  inseparable  companions  of  a  needy  state?  whose 
spirit  is  dejected  with  constant  regret  and  frequent  disappoint- 
ments ;  who  is  perplexed  with  the  difficulties,  and  incum- 
bered with  the  varieties  of  secular  business.  The  priests'  lips 
are  expected  to  speak  with  boldness  and  authority ;  but  how 
can  necessary  courage  be  cherished  in  the  breast  of  him  who 
grovels  on  the  ground,  and  crouches  under  a  load  of  want  and 
disgrace  ? 

But  admit  it  possible  that  such  a  man  may  be  equal  to  this; 
that  although  extremely  indigent,  he  may  be  sufficiently  reso- 
lute :  with  what  regard  will  his  free  and  faithful  advice  be 
entertained  ?  Will  not  his  moderate  confidence  be  accounted 
impudence,  and  his  open  sincerity  of  speech  be  styled  unman- 
nerly presumption  ?  This  point  enlarged  on. 

Almighty  God,  that  he  might  conciliate  credit  unto,  and 


288 


SUMMARY  OF 


infuse  a  persuasive  energy  into  the  words  of  his  prophets  and 
apostles,  was  pleased  to  distinguish  them  by  extraordinary 
gifts.  Where  such  extraordinary  commendations  are  wanting, 
it  is  reasonable  that  the  deficiency  should  be  supplied  by 
ordinary  and  probable  expedients. 

It  might  be  added,  that  a  necessitous  and  despicable  estate 
commonly  not  only  disturbs  the  mind  and  renders  the  spirits 
dejected,  but  makes  men  peevish,  greedy,  and  covetous,  tempt- 
ing them  to  unworthy  courses. 

Also  that  priests  confer  good  on  the  state,  which  is  secured 
by  the  sincere  instruction  of  men  in  the  duties  of  obedience, 
justice,  and  fidelity.  Seeing  therefore  that  the  good  of  the 
church,  on  various  accounts,  is  so  much  concerned  in  the 
welfare  of  the  priests,  it  is  very  fitting  they  should  have  en- 
couragement and  respect.  Concluding  serious  admonition  on 
this  head,  from  Heb.  xiii.  17. 

III.  Common  equity  and  the  reason  of  the  case  exacts  that 
safety,  competent  subsistence,  and  fitting  respect  be  allowed  to 
the  priests.  If  their  personal  qualities,  commonly  resulting 
from  a  liberal,  sober  education  in  the  schools  of  wisdom  and  good 
discipline,  be  considered,  who  better  deserve  such  treatment? 

True  worth  is  not  confined  to  any  particular  order  of  men  ; 
yet  none  would  be  wronged,  if  it  were  said  that  worth  is  to  be 
found  no  where  more  plentifully  than  in  that  of  the  priesthood. 
What  is  it  which  advances  men's  nature,  and  adorns  their 
minds?  Is  it  knowlege?  The  priests'  lips  preserve  it.  Is  it 
virtue  ?  Whence  have  greater  examples  of  it  proceeded  than 
from  among  them  ?  Is  it  piety  ?  It  is  their  proper  business  to 
promote  it. 

Faults  they  have  had,  and  will  always  have ;  for  they  are 
but  men,  and  subject  to  the  common  imperfections  of  a  mortal 
nature  ;  but  perhaps  if  it  were  seemly  to  make  comparisons,  it 
might  be  shown  without  difficulty  that  they  have  fewer  and  less 
than  any  other  distinct  body  of  men,  &c. 


SERMON  XII. 


289 


But  to  waive  this  plea,  consider  their  employment.  Is  there 
any  office  attended  with  more  wearisome  toil,  solicitous  care, 
and  tedious  attendance  ?  whence  they  are  deservedly  called 
watchmen  and  shepherds :  these  points  enlarged  on.  Report 
of  Maximinus  by  Eusebius,  that  he  commanded  only  the  gover- 
nors of  the  church  to  be  slaughtered,  as  authors  of  the  growth 
and  prevalence  of  evangelical  doctrine.  Nor  is  the  practice  of 
that  tyrant  singular  ;  for  they  generally  fall  the  first  sacrifices 
to  outrageous  persecution. 

Is  it  not  reasonable  then  that  they,  who  for  the  service  of 
God  and  benefit  of  the  church  undergo  such  difficulties,  and 
are  exposed  to  such  hazards,  should  be  sustained  and  refreshed 
by  proportionable  encouragements?  This  topic  enlarged  on. 
The  nature  of  their  profession  also  considered,  which  secludes 
them  from  all  ordinary  means  of  temporal  advancement. 

Reflexions  on  the  reasonableness,  and  goodness,  and  wisdom 
of  Almighty  God  in  undertaking  the  protection,  and  asserting 
the  honor  of  his  priests  ;  which,  together  with  a  consideration 
that  he  has  hitherto  done  so,  may  strengthen  our  reliance  on 
his  promise. 

Conduct  of  Christians  in  the  first  ages  of  Christianity,  ages 
not  more  dismal  for  suffering,  than  glorious  for  piety,  consi- 
dered. How  passionately  did  they  then  love  their  pastors  ! 
how  cheerfully  did  they  contribute,  out  of  a  slender  stock  or 
spoiled  fortune,  to  their  maintenance !  &c.  Conduct  of 
Christians  in  the  succeeding  times,  when  Christianity  shone 
forth  out  of  the  scattered  clouds  of  persecution  :  how  the  joyful 
acclamations  of  the  faithful  people  resounded  in  praise  of  their 
victorious  champions !  and  how  did  the  emperors  themselves, 
with  outstretched  arms  and  hearts  enlarged,  embrace  the 
authors  of  their  happy  conversion,  and  rescind  all  laws  pre- 
judicial to  their  welfare  !  and  this  occurred  not  only  in  the 
Roman  empire,  but  in  other  nations  which  afterwards  embraced 

BAR.  VOL.  I.  N 


290 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  XII. 


Christianity;  as  in  the  case  of  the  Goths,  Vandals,  Lom- 
bards, &c. 

And  ever  since,  whilst  they  have  been  the  guardians  of  the 
safety  of  others,  they  have  not  themselves  been  deprived  of 
protection  ;  have  abounded  rather  than  wanted ;  have  been 
cherished  by  princes  and  nobles,  who  have  relied  on  their 
advice,  and  intrusted  them  with  their  highest  concerns. 

It  is  true  that  God's  promise  is  not  affixed  to  all  parts  of 
time,  to  all  particularities  of  place,  to  all  determinate  circum- 
stances of  things.  The  priests  may  now  and  then  suffer,  be 
plundered,  ejected  ;  but  they  may  also  be  soon  restored,  re- 
possessed, and  re-advanced,  &c.  God  may  for  a  while  hide 
his  face  from  us,  but  he  will  not  for  ever  turn  his  back  on  us  : 
the  honor  of  the  priesthood  may  for  a  while  be  eclipsed  in  some 
part  of  the  world ;  but  it  shall  never  suffer  a  total  eclipse, 
nor  be  swallowed  up  in  a  perpetual  night. 


A  CONSECRATION  SERMON. 


20a 


SERMON  XII. 

A  CONSECRATION  SERMON.* 


PSALM  CXXXII. — VERSE  16. 

I  will  also  clothe  her  priests  with  salvation. 

The  context  runs  thus  :  '  The  Lord  hath  sworn  in  truth 
unto  David ;  he  will  not  turn  from  it ;  Of  the  fruit  of  thy  body 
will  I  set  on  thy  throne.  If  thy  children  will  keep  my  cove- 
nant and  my  testimony  that  I  shall  teach  them,  their  children 
shall  also  sit  on  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  will  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. 

If  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  Christian  bishop,  (that 
is,  of  a  prince,  or  principal  pastor  in  God's  church,)  requires 
most  peculiar  testimonies  of  our  gratulation  and  content:  the 
face  of  things  ought  then  to  be  serene  and  cheerful ;  the  thoughts 
of  men  benign  and  favorable  ;  the  words  comfortable  and  aus- 
picious, that  are  uttered  on  such  occasion.    And  that  ours  at 

•  Henry  the  Seventh's  chapel,  July  4,  16C3,  at  the  Bishop  of 
Man's  consecration. 


292 


BARROW. — SERMON  XII. 


present  should  be  such,  the  subject  as  well  as  the  season  of  our 
discourse  doth  require.  Words  few,  but  pregnant,  and  afford- 
ing ample  matter  for  our  best  affections  to  work  on  :  and  which 
more  particularly  will  engage  us,  both  to  a  hearty  thankfulness 
for  past  benefits,  and  to  a  confident  expectation  of  future  bles- 
sings ;  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  certain  accomplishment  for  the 
future.    The  occasion  whereof  was  this  : 

King  David,  moved  by  a  devout  inclination  to  promote 
God's  honor,  and  benefit  the  church,  had  vowed  to  build  a 
magnificent  temple,  imploring  God's  propitious  concurrence 
with,  and  approbation  of,  his  design.  Whereon  Almighty  God 
not  only  declares  his  acceptance  of  that  pious  resolution,  but 
rewards  it  with  a  bountiful  promise,  consisting  of  two  parts; 
one  conditional,  relating  to  David's  children  and  posterity,  that 
they  in  an  uninterrupted  succession  should  for  ever  enjoy  the 
royal  dignity,  in  case  they  did  constantly  persist  in  observing 
his  covenant,  and  the  testimonies  that  he  should  teach  them  ; 
the  other  more  absolute,  that  however,  what  he  chiefly  intended 
concerning  God's  established  worship  and  the  perpetual  wel- 
fare of  the  church,  God  would  have  an  especial  care  that  it 
should  fully  and  certainly  be  accomplished  :  that  he  would  for 
over  fix  his  residence  in  Sion ;  that  he  would  protect  and 
prosper  it,  and  all  that  did  belong  thereto ;  especially  those 
that  did  most  need  his  favor  and  assistance,  the  poor,  the  priests, 
and  the  saints,  (or  '  gentle  ones.')  This  is  briefly  the  impor- 
tance of  the  general  promise  wherein  is  comprehended  that  par- 
ticular one  whereon  we  are  to  treat:  and  in  which  we  may 
observe, 

1.  The  promiser,  'I.' 

2.  The  persons  who  are  especially  concerned  in  the  promise, 
'  her  priests.' 

3.  The  thing  promised,  '  clothing  with  salvation." 

1.  I  say,  the  promiser,  'I:'  that  is,  the  Lord;  the  most 
true,  the  most  constant,  the  most  powerful  God  ;  most  true 
and  sincere  in  the  declaration  of  his  purpose,  most  constant  and 
immutable  in  the  prosecution,  most  powerful  and  uncontrol- 
lable in  the  perfect  execution  thereof :  whose  «  words  are  right, 


A  CONSECRATION  SERMON. 


29:\ 


and  all  whose  works  are  done  in  truth :'  who  '  will  not 
break,  his  covenant,  nor  alter  the  thing  that  is  gone  out  of  his 
lips:'  whose  'counsel  shall  stand,  and  who  will  do  all  his 
pleasure.'  These  glorious  attributes  and  perfections  of  his,  so 
often  celebrated  in  holy  writ,  do  ground  our  reliance  on  all 
God's  promises,  and  do  oblige  us,  notwithstanding  the  greatest 
improbabilities  or  difficulties  objected,  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;  distinguished  expressly  from  the 
poor,  (that  is,  other  meek  and  humble  persons  ;)  and  from 
the  saints,  (that  is,  all  other  good  and  religious  men.)  And, 
her  priests ;  that  is,  the  priests  of  Sion  :  of  that  Sion  which 
'  the  Lord  hath  chosen  ;'  which  '  he  hath  desired  for  his  per- 
manent habitation  ;'  which  he  hath  resolved  to  '  rest  and 
reside  in  for  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  dis- 
course, and  by  some  it  may  perhaps  not  be  readily  admitted, 
I  shall  endeavor  farther  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  Christian  church  :  (that  of  the  Jews  being  long- 
since  rejected,  their  temple  demolished,  their  Sion  utterly  for- 
saken.) For  although  one  particular  contained  therein,  con- 
cerning the  continual  succession  of  David's  posterity  in  the 
regal  authority  over  Israel,  hath  a  condition  explicitly  an- 
nexed ;  (and,  consequently,  the  effects  depending  on  the  per- 
formance of  that  condition  were  contingent  and  mutable  ;)  yet 
all  the  rest  of  this  covenant  (or  promise)  is  conceived  in  terms 
peremptory  and  expressly  importing  perpetuity.  '  This  is  my 
rest  for  ever,'  IV  ny,  that  is,  as  the  Greek  translators  render  it, 
eis  aiaii'o  tov  alwvos,  (in  seculum  seculi,)  that  is,  to  the  end  of 
this  world  ;  as  eis  aldvns  tG>v  aiuivwv  denotes  the  end  of  all 
worlds,  or  the  most  perfect  sempiternity.  And  that  it  doth 
really  in  this  case  denote  a  proper  and  unlimited  perpetuity,  is 


294  BARROW. — SERMON"  XII. 

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  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  esta- 
blished for  ever  as  the  moon,  and  as  a  faithful  witness  in 
heaven.'  No  words  can  express  more  fully  a  perpetual  dura- 
tion, or  at  least  one  co-extended  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  Lord ;  If 
you  can  break  my  covenant  of  the  day,  and  my  covenant  of  the 
night,  and  that  there  should  not  be  day  and  night  in  their  sea- 
son ;  then  may  also  my  covenant  be  broken  with  David  my 
servant,  that  he  should  not  have  a  son  to  reign  on  his  throne  ; 
and  with  the  Levites  the  priests,  my  ministers.'    But  farther, 

2.  The  completion  of  this  individual  promise  is  both  by  the 
prophets  foretold,  and  expressed  by  the  evanselists,  to  apper- 
tain 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  of 
Nazareth,  our  blessed  Saviour)  '  to  grow  up  unto  David,  who 
should  execute  judgment  and  righteousness  in  the  land.'  'In 
those  days,'  saith  he  farther,  '  shall  Judah  be  saved,  and  Je- 
rusalem 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,  but  the  Chal- 
dee  also  read  it,)  '  The  Lord  our  righteousness.'  Like 
wise  in  the  fifty-fifth  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  favors  which  I  faithfully 
promised  him  ;  relating  to  this  very  promise  also.  For  both  in 
Solomon's  praver,  (2  Chron.  vi.)  which  in  all  probability  was 
indited  about  the  same  time,  and  on  the  same  occasion  with 
this  Psalm,  and  in  the  eighty-ninth  Psalm,  the  benefits  of  the 
same  covenant  are  called  '  the  mercies  of  David.'    '  O  Lord 


A  CONSECRATION  SERMON. 


■295 


God,  turn  not  away  the  face  of  thine  anointed,  remember  the 
mercies  of  David  thy  servant,'  saith  Solomon  :  and,  '  My 
mercy,'  saith  God,  '  will  I  keep  with  him  for  evermore,  and 
my  covenant  shall  stand  fast  with  him :'  and,  '  My  faithful- 
ness and  my  mercy  shall  be  with  him ;'  that  is,  '  my  faithful 
(or  sure)  mercy ;'  ra  oota  Tiara,  as  the  LXX.  and  St.  Paul 
with  them  in  the  Acts,  render  this  place  of  Isaiah.  And  in 
the  song  of  Zachary  we  have  one  passage  of  this  promise  cited, 
and  applied  to  the  times  of  the  gospel :  '  Blessed  be  the  Lord 
God  of  Israel,  who  hath  visited  and  redeemed  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  bud;'  and  in  the 
parallel  Psalm  lxxxix.  '  In  my  name  shall  his  horn  be  exalted.' 
To  omit  those  many  places  where  our  Saviour,  in  correspon- 
dence to  this  promise,  is  affirmed  to  '  possess  the  throne  of  his 
father  David,'  and  '  to  rule  over  the  house  of  Jacob  for  ever.' 
Moreover, 

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,  on  which  the  Christian 
church,  the  only  everlasting  temple  of  God,  is  unmoveably 
seated,  is  very  probable,  (or  rather  manifestly  certain,)  by  the 
prophets'  constant  acception  thereof  in  this  sense,  when  they 
assign  the  character  of  perpetual  durability  thereto.  As  in 
Isaiah  lx.  where  he  thus  prophecies  of  the  Christian  church  : 
'The  sons  also  of  them  that  afflicted  thee  shall  come  bending  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,'  Sec.  And  the  prophet 
Micah,  speaking  of  '  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;  and  her  that  was  cast  far 


296 


BARROW. — SERMON  XII. 


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  out 
his  spirit  on  all  flesh,')  hath  these  words  :  '  So  shall  ye  know, 
that  I  am  the  Lord  your  God,  dwelling  in  Sion,  my  holy 
mountain  :  then  shall  Jerusalem  he  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,  (ch.  xii.  ver.  22.) 
'  But  ye  are  come  unto  mount  Sion,  and  unto  the  city  of  the 
living  God,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem  :'  that  is,  to  the  Christian 
church. 

4.  The  manner  of  this  covenant's  delivery,  and  confirmation 
by  the  divine  oath,  argues  the  inconditionate,  irreversible,  and 
perpetual  constitution  thereof ;  for  to  God's  most  absolute  and 
immutable  decrees  this  most  august  and  solemn  confirmation 
cloth  peculiarly  agree.  So  the  Apostle  to  the  Hebrews  seems 
to  intimate:  '  Wherein,'  saith  he,  'God,  willing  more  abun- 
dantly to  demonstrate  the  immutability  of  hiscounsel,  (e7ri4e7{eu 
to  afxeraQerov  rijs  fiovXiis,)  interposed  an  oath.' 

We  may  therefore,  I  suppose,  on  these  grounds,  solidly  and 
safely  conclude  that  this  promise  doth  principally  belong,  and 
r>hall  therefore  infallibly  be  made  good,  to  the  Christian  priest- 
hood ;  to  those  who,  in  the  Christian  church,  by  offering  spi- 
ritual sacrifices  of  praise  and  thanksgiving,  by  directing  and 
instructing  the  people  in  the  knowlege  of  the  evangelical  law, 
by  imploring  for  and  pronouncing  on  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 
that  reproach,  which  is  by  some,  inconsiderately,  (not  to  say 
profanely,)  on  that  mistaken  ground,  commonly  cast  ou  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 


A  CONSECRATION  SERMON. 


291 


will  also  take  of  th^m  for  priests  and  for  Levites,  saith  the 
Lord :'  speaking  (as  the  context  plainly  declares)  of  the 
Gentiles,  which  should  be  converted  and  aggregated  to  God's 
church.  And  the  prophet  Jeremiah:  'Neither  shall  the 
priests  the  Levites  want  a  man  before  me  to  offer  burnt  offer- 
ings, and  to  do  sacrifice  continually.'  Which  prophecy  also 
evidently  concerns  the  same  time  and  state  of  things,  of  which 
the  prophet  Malachi  thus  foretels :  '  For,  from  the  rising  of 
the  sun  to  the  going  down  of  the  same,  my  name  shall  be 
great  among  the  Gentiles;  and  in  every  place  incense  shall  be 
offered  to  my  name,  and  a  pure  offering.'  It  were  desirable, 
therefore,  that  men  would  better  consider,  before  they  enter- 
tain such  groundless  offences,  or  pass  so  uncharitable  censures 
on  either  words,  or  persons,  or  things.    But  I  proceed  to  the 

III.  Particular,  which  is  the  matter  of  the  promise,  '  cloth- 
ing with  salvation.'    Where  we  may  observe, 

First,  that  the  usual  metaphor  of  being  clothed  doth  in  the 
sacred  dialect  denote  a  complete  endowment  with,  a  plentiful 
enjoyment  of,  or  an  intire  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.'  And  David 
prays  that  they  might  be  '  clothed  with  shame  and  dishonor, 
that  did  magnify  themselves  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  (in  Psalm  cix.  18.)  did  '  clothe  him- 
self with  cursing,  as  with  a  garment.'  And  Job  avoucheth  of 
himself,  '  I  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 
in  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  him- 
self 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  there- 
with ;  to  be  invested  with  it  as  with  a  garment,  which  wholly 


298 


BARROW. — SERMON  XII. 


incloseth  and  covereth  the  body,  so  that  no  part  is  left  un- 
guarded 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 
properly  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  prosperity,  or  design  by  terms  equivalent  to  those  i 
the  Hebrews  having  hardly  any  other  word  so  properly  corres- 
pondent to  those  as  this  word  '  salvation.'  Wh  ence  that  title 
of  <  Saviour,'  and  '  the  God  of  salvation,'  so  often  attributed  to 
Almighty  God,  imports  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  slandered  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  con- 
firm this  notion  :  Psalm  lxxxv.  9.  '  Surely  his  salvation  is 
nigh  them  that  fear  him,  that  glory  may  dwell  in  our  land.' 
'  His  salvation  is  nigh ;'  that  is,  his  loving  care  attends  on 
them,  to  assist  and  preserve  them  ;  which,  in  Psalm  cxlv.  19.  is 
thus  otherwise  expressed :  '  he  will  fulfil  the  desire  of  them 
that  fear  him ;  he  will  hear  their  cry,  and  will  save  them.' 
And  again,  Psalm  cxlix.  4.  '  The  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,  Psalm  cxliv.  10. 
'  It  is  he  that  giveth  salvation  unto  kings ;'  that  is,  by  whose 
gracious  disposal  they  prosper,  and  are  preserved  in  dignity, 
plenty,  and  safety. 


A  CONSECRATION  SERMON. 


299 


I  will  not,  by  citation  of  places,  labor  to  confirm  so  obvious 
a  notion  :  it  may  suffice  for  that  purpose,  that  the  supreme  ac- 
complishment of  all  happiness,  the  enjoyment  of  perfect  bliss  in 
heaven,  is,  in  agreement  with  this  Jewish  acception  of  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  ex- 
clude 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  promise  do,  in  their 
most  natural  acception,  signify  that  outward  prosperity  where- 
with God  would  vouchsafe  to  bless  his  church  :  that  abundant 
'  benediction  of  her  store,'  that  '  satisfying  her  poor  with  bread,' 
that  'joyful  exultation  of  her  saints,'  that  '  clothing  her  enemies 
with  shame,'  being  expressions  properly  denoting  a  state  of  ex- 
ternal good  weal  and  comfort ;  and,  in  consonance  to  them, 
require  that  we  thus  likewise  understand  this  phrase ;  the 
priests  being  also  questionless  designed  to  partake  in  this  glo- 
rious felicity  of  the  church.  Which  is  also  confirmed  by 
other  prophecies  of  the  same  tenor  and  intention  :  as  particu- 
larly that  in  Jer.  xxxi.  concerning  the  recollection  of  Israel, 
and  redemption  of  the  spiritual  Sion,  it  is  said,  '  I  will  satiate 
the  soul  of  the  priests  with  fatness,  and  my  people  shall  be  sa- 
tisfied with  my  goodness,'  &c. 

Now,  although  we  may  adventure  safely  to  interpret  the 
declarations  of  the  divine  favor  according  to  the  most  compre- 
hensive sense  of  which  the  words  are  capable,  where  they  are 
conceived  :  (it  being  the  manner  of  the  immensely-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  anywise  to  disappoint  them  :)  yet,  however,  the  least  we 
can  imagine  here  promised  to  the  '  priests  of  Sion,'  will  com- 
prehend these  three  things. 

L  A  free  and  safe  condition  of  life  :  that  they  be  not  ex- 
posed to  continual  dangers  of  ruin  ;  of  miserable  sufferance,  or 
remediless  injury:  that  the  benefits  of  peace,  and  law,  and 


m 


BARROW. — SERMON  XII. 


public  protection  shall  particularly  appertain  to  them  ;  so  that 
their  adversaries  (if  any  they  happen  to  have)  shall  not  be  in- 
cited, 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  convenient  accommodations,  or  depending  altoge- 
ther for  them  on  the  arbitrary  benevolences  of  men,  which  is, 
at  best,  but  a  more  plausible  kind  of  beggary ;  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  oblo- 
quy, their  functions  become  prostitute  to  profane  irrision  ;  but 
that  some  considerable  authority,  some  more  than  ordinary 
regard  and  veneration  accrue  unto  them  from  the  high  rela- 
tions which  they  bear,  and  from  the  sacred  business  which  they 
manage. 

All  this  at  least  (according  to  the  most  moderate  interpre- 
tation of  the  phrase)  that  abundant  salvation  doth  imply, 
wherewith  God  hath  promised  to  '  invest  the  priests  of  Sion.' 

We  may  therefore  presume,  or  rather  not  presume,  but  con- 
fidently rely  on,  and  comfort  ourselves  in  the  expectation  of 
God's  faithful  continuance  to  fulfil  this  promise.  We  may 
assure  ourselves  that  neither  the  secret  envy  of  them  who  re- 
pine at  those  encouragements  which  God's  providence  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  endeavor  of 
earth  or  hell  can  ever  be  able  to  reverse  this  everlasting  decree 
of  heaven,  or  to  defeat  that  irresistible  power  which  is  engaged 
to  its  execution.  No  inferior  force  can  strip  them  naked  of 
that  salvation,  wherewith  the  Supreme  Truth  hath  promised  to 
clothe  them. 


A  CONSECRATION  SERMON. 


301 


Which  confidence  of  ours  may  be  improved,  by  considering 
the  reasons  that  might  induce  Almighty  God  to  resolve,  and 
promise  thus  favorably  in  behalf  of  his  priests.  (  For  thougli 
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  acknowlege  it,  and  humbly  to  praise  him 
for  it.)  Now  the  reasons  why  divine  providence  should  under- 
take to  preserve  the  priesthood  in  safety,  to  procure  for  them 
liberal  maintenance,  and  to  raise  them  above  a  state  of  scorn 
and  infamy,  may  be  especially  these  three. 

1.  It  concerns  God's  honor. 

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  apologise 
for  me.  It  becomes  not  me  to  be  an  adviser,  much  less  a  re- 
prover, in  this  audience  :  may  I  therefore,  with  your  favorable 
permission,  presume  to  be  a  commender,  or,  if  you  please,  a 
pleader  for  the  welfare  of  this  sacred  order,  although  myself 
an  unworthy  and  inconsiderable  member  thereof.  I  say,  there- 
fore, 

I.  God's  honor  is  concerned  in  the  safe,  comfortable,  and 
honorable  estate  of  his  priests  ;  and  that  on  account  of  those 
manifold  relations,  whereby  they  stand  allied,  appropriated, 
and  devoted  to  himself. 

They  are  in  a  peculiar  manner  his  servants.  '  The  servant  of 
the  Lord,'  saith  St.  Paul,  '  must  not  strive,  but  be  gentle  unto 
all  men,  apt  to  teach.'  '  The  servant  of  the  Lord  ;'  who's  that  ? 
are  not  all  men  God's  servants  ?  is  not  he  Lord  of  all  ?  Yes  ; 
but  a  Christian  priest,  such  as  Timothy  was,  is  by  way  of  ex- 


308 


BARROW. — SERMON  XII. 


cellency  so  styled.  All  men  owe  subjection,  obedience,  and 
homage  to  God  :  but  the  priests  are  (his  virrtpirai,  his  Xeimvoyoi) 
his  ministers,  his  officers,  his  immediate  attendants,  his  domes- 
tics, as  it  were,  and  menial  servants;  that  approach  his  person, 
that  tread  the  courts  of  his  house,  that  wear  his  proper  badges, 
that  are  employed  in  his  particular  business.  And  is  it  then 
for  God's  honor,  to  suffer  them  to  be  abused,  to  want  conve- 
nient 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  edicts,  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  inconveniencies  ?  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  ho- 
norable charges,  and  are  intrusted  with  his  most  especial  con- 
cernments. 

They  are  his  stewards.  '  A  bishop,'  saith  St.  Paul, '  must  be 
blameless,  as  the  steward  of  God.'  If  the  church  be  olxos  Oeov, 
God's  house,  or  family,  as  it  is  called,  and  the  priests  the 
oiKovdftei,  the  stewards  of  that  house,  the  comptrollers  of  that 
family  ;  it  is  surely  no  mean  station  they  obtain  therein.  The 
distribution  of  his  bread,  (the  bread  of  life,  his  holy  word,)  and 
the  dispensation  of  his  most  precious  goods,  (the  holy  myste- 
ries,) are  committed  to  their  care  and  prudence.  '  Who  then," 
saith  our  Saviour,  '  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  irpoearwres ,  liyovpevoi,  Kvfiepvjioeis ,  (  presi- 
dents, guides,  rulers,)  and  woi^e»ej,  (feeders  or  pastors)  of  the 
church  ? 

Yea,  they  are  ottcobdfioi  also,  the  builders  of  that  house, 
founding  it  by  initial  conversion,  rearing  it  by  continued  in- 
struction, covering  and  finishing  it  by  sacramental  obsignation 
of  divine  grace.  '  As  a  wise  architect,'  saith  St.  Paul,  '  I  have 
laid  the  foundation,  and  another  builds  on  it.' 


A  CONSECRATION  SERMON. 


309 


They  are  owepyol  Qeov,  'co-operators with  God  ;' that  ma- 
nage his  business,  and  drive  on  his  designs  ;  the  solicitors  of  his 
affairs;  the  masters  of  his  requests ;  his  heralds,  that  publish  his 
decrees,  denounce  his  judgments,  proclaim  his  pardons  and  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  invidia,)  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  by  him  to 
treat  of  peace,  and  solicit  a  fair  correspondence  between  heaven 
and  earth.  'Now  then,'  saith  St.  Paul,  '  we  are  ambassadors 
for  Christ,  as  though  God  did  beseech  you  by  us :  we  pray  you 
in  Christ's  stead,  be  reconciled  to  God.'  '  As  though  God  did 
beseech  you  by  us  :'  see,  they  manage  God's  concernments,  and 
in  a  manner  represent  his  person.  At  least,  if  the  Apostles 
were  more  properly  God's  ambassadors,  the  present  ministers  of 
religion  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  re- 
spect hath  been  ever  acknowleged  due  to  ambassadors  and  pub- 
lic ministers:  their  employment  hath  been  esteemed  honorable, 
their  persons  held  sacred  and  inviolable ;  and  whatsoever  dis- 
courtesy hath  been  showed  unto,  or  outrage  committed  on  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  estimation,  ter- 
minate on  God  himself,  and  reflect  on  his  honor,  and  prejudice 
his  religion  :  a  due  regard  to  which  cannot  be  maintained  with- 
out proportionable  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. 

*  Vide  Mai.  ii.  7.  For  the  priest's  lips  should  keep  knowlege, 
and  the)'  should  seek  the  law  at  his  mouth  :  for  he  is  the  messenger 
of  the  Lord  of  hosts. 


304 


BARROW. — SERMON  XII. 


Do  we  not  see  the  reverence  of  civil  government  upheld 
more  by  the  specious  circumstances  than  by  the  real  necessity 
thereof:  by  the  magnificent  retinue  and  splendid  ornaments  of 
princely  dignity,  than  by  the  eminent  benefits  of  peace  and  jus- 
tice springing  thence?  Shall  not  (not  only  the  greatest  inward 
worth,  but)  the  highest  nobility,  if  basely  attired,  badly  at- 
tended, slenderly  accommodated,  pass  unregarded,  yea,  disre- 
garded by  us?  men  being  generally  either  unable  to  discern,  or 
unwilling  to  acknowlege  excellency  divested  of  sensible  lustre. 
Religion  therefore  must  be  well  habited,  or  it  will  be  ill  re- 
spected :  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  in  a  house  of  ce- 
dars, 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  at- 
tendants 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  altogether  void  of 
such  resentments,  or  such  comparisons  impertinent,  consider 
that  disdainful  expression  of  his  ;  '  if  ye  offer  the  blind  for  sa- 
crifice, is  it  not  evil  ?  and  if  ye  offer  the  lame  and  sick,  is  it  not 
evil  ?  Offer  it  now  to  thy  governor  ;  will  he  be  pleased  with 
thee,  or  accept  thy  person  ?  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts.'  The 
same  testimonies  of  respect  that  we  show  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  pro- 
vision, in  the  policy  devised  and  constituted  by  God  himself, 
was  made  for  the  priests;  how  God  assumes  the  immediate  pa- 
tronage of  them,  and  appropriates  the  matter  of  their  sustenance 
unto  himself.  '  The  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  tire, 
and  his  inheritance.    Therefore  they  shall  have  no  inheritance 


A  CONSECRATION  SERMON. 


80S 


among  their  brethren  :  the  Lord  is  their  inheritance.'  So  that 
then,  it  seems,  no  man  could  withhold  any  part  of  the  priests' 
maintenance,  without  sacrilegious  incroachment  on  God's  own 
right,  and  robbing  him  of  his  due  :  (which  is  the  greatest  secu- 
rity 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  com- 
ply with  their  determinations.  See  how  the  business  is  incul- 
cated. '  If  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  in- 
quire ;  and  they  shall  show  thee  the  sentence  of  judgment. 
And  thou  shalt  do  according  to  the  sentence  which  they  of  that 
place,  which  the  Lord  shall  choose,  shall  show  thee  :  and  thou 
shalt  observe  to  do  according  to  all  that  they  inform  thee.  Ac- 
cording 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 
shall  show  thee,  to  the  right  hand,  nor  to  the  left.  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  Is- 
rael.' Observe  with  how  eminent  a  power  God  then  thought 
fit  to  endow  his  priests.* 

And  though  we  are  not  in  all  cases  obliged  punctually  to 
follow  those  political  prescriptions ;  yet  is  the  reason  of  them 
perpetual,  and  the  example  venerable;  especially  since  the  cus- 
tom of  all  times,  and  the  reason  of  all  the  world,  doth  in  a  sort 
conspire  to  back  it. 

The  first  priest  we  meet  with  in  Scripture  is  Melchizedek  ; 

*  Kai  y&p  ZitStttcu  irdvruv,  to!  Sitoitto!  tuip  afid>irT^ijrovnevav,  Kai  KoKcurral 
rwv  Karcyvaoixiiiuv  ol  iepeis  eVax^crav,  saitll  JosepllUS.  The  priests  were 
constituted  supervisors  of  all  things,  and  judges  of  controversies, 
and  punishers  of  ofl'eiiees.  2.  in  Apionem. 


BARROW. — SERMON  XII. 


a  king  also;  and  such  a  one  as  the  patriarch  Abraham,  (a  prince 
also  himself,  and,  what  is  somewhat  more,  just  then  a  con- 
queror,) in  the  midst  of  his  triumphal  heights,  was  not  ashamed 
to  acknowlege  his  superior,  to  honor  him  with  a  tribute  of  his 
9poiIs,  and  to  receive  a  benediction  from  him.  The  next  (if  I 
mistake  not)  is  Potipherah,  priest  of  On,  whose  daughter  was 
not  thought  by  the  king  of  Egypt  an  unequal  match  for  Joseph, 
his  chief  favorite,  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 
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  dignity  too.  And  the  next  to  him 
(in  order  of  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  barbarous,  were  by  one 
common  instinct  (as  it  were)  of  natural  reason  prompted,  by 
conferring  extraordinary  privileges  of  honor  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  Hierophantae,  the  Persian 
Magi,  the  Gaulish  Druids,  the  caliphs,  and  muftis  of  other 
nations,  to  show  what  pre-eminences  of  respect  they  enjoyed, 
what  powerful  sway  they  bore  in  their  respective  countries ; 
how  the  most  weighty  affairs,  both  of  peace  and  war,  were 
commonly  directed  by  their  oracular  dictates.  It  shall  suffice 
to  observe  that  the  gallant  Romans,  (whose  devout  zeal  to  re- 
ligion Polybius  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  on  the  priestly  order, 
that  if  their  principal  magistrates  (the  praetors  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  respectfully  gave 
place,  as  if  they  meant  to  confess  those  priests  in  a  manner 

*  Vid.  Aristot.  Pol.  vii.  9.  OCre  yap  yewpybv,  o(n<  fSavavaov  Upia  *o- 
Taarariov  trnb  yap  twv  woMtwv  irpcirei  TifiaaSai  tovs  Beovs. 


A  CONSECRATION  SERMON. 


307 


their  betters.*  Nor  did  they  among  them  of  the  most  noble 
extraction,  and  of  the  highest  dignity  in  the  commonwealth, 
(even  after  many  glorious  exploits  achieved  by  them,)  scorn- 
fully disdain,  but  did  rather  ambitiously  affect  to  be  admitted 
into  the  college  of  priests  :  insomuch  that,  after  the  dissolution 
of  the  republic,  the  emperors  thought  good  to  assume  the  pon- 
tifical dignity  to  themselves,  supposing  the  office  too  honor- 
able, the  title  too  magnificent  for  a  subject.  For  they  wisely, 
it  seems,  and  honestly  adjudged  it  no  debasement  of  their  qua- 
lity, no  diminution  to  their  personal  excellency,  to  be  employed, 
in  the  service  of  the  immortal  gods ;  whom  they  acknowleged 
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  suc- 
cess of  public  undertakings  did  as  much,  or  more,  depend  on 
the  favorable  disposition  of  divine  Providence,  as  on  the  care- 
ful endeavor  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  majoribus  nostris  invtnta 
atque  instituta  sunt ;  turn  nihil  preeclarius,  quam  quod  vos 
eosdem  et  religionibus  deorum  immortalium,  et  summee  reip. 
prceesst  voluerunt :  ut  amplissimi  et  clarissimi  cives  rempubl. 
bene  gerendo,  religiones  sapienter  interpretando ,  remp.  con- 
servarent.  A  wholesome  and  politic  institution  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  re- 
ligion, that  the  priests  should  be  men  of  honor,  or  (which  is  all 
one)  honorable  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  inconside- 
rate delicacy  of  humor,  (or  from  a  profane  haughtiness  of  mind,) 
to  loathe,  as  now  men  do,  and  despise  that  employment,  which 

•  noVTo  tci  Trpaynara  'Pa^alots  els  rbv  Qebv  avrjyeTO. — Plut.  in  Marcello. 
Sen.  in  Controv. 


308 


BARROW. — SERMON  XII. 


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  honorable  relation  ;  and  to  wait  on  a  mortal 
king  is  acounted  a  most  worthy  function  :  to  be  peculiarly 
God's  servant,  and  in  religious  addresses  immediately  to  attend 
on  him,  must  consequently  be  the  most  excellent  preferment  in 
the  world,  which  is  God's  kingdom.*  And  if  to  supply  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  instruction  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  monuments  of  their  in- 
comparable piety  at  home,  and  equally  by  both  did  purchase 
immortal  renown  to  their  ingrateful  posterity,  (for  not  to  imi- 
tate 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  cor- 
rupt in  manners  :  when  all  wisdom,  and  virtue,  and  religion, 
are  almost  in  most  places  grown  ridiculous  :  when  the  serious 
use  of  reason  is  become  (in  vulgar  opinion)  the  most  imperti- 
nent and  insignificant  thing  in  the  world  :  when  innocence  is 
reputed  a  mere  defect  of  wit  and  weakness  of  judgment ;  inte- 
grity a  fond  pertinacity  of  humor  ;  constancy  of  mind  and 
gravity  of  demeanor,  a  kind  of  sullen  morosity  or  uncouth 
affectation  of  singularity;  and  all  strict  practice  of  Christian 
duty  incurs  the  imputation  of  some  new-found  opprobrious 
name,  one  or  other.  No  wonder  then,  when  religion  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 

*  Itane  plus  decet  Iiominis,  quam  Dei  famulum  nominari?  ac 
terreni  quam  coelestis  Regis  officialem,  altioris  ducitur  dignitatis? 
Qui  Clero  militiam,  forum  anteponit  Ecclefiie,  divinis  profecto  liu- 
inana,  coelestibus  prwferre  terrena  convincitur. — Bern.  Epist.  78. 


A  CONSECRATION  SERMON. 


309 


lire  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  affection  to  virtue  and  genuine  piety 
do  begin  to  revive  in  the  breasts  of  men ;  the  love  and  reve- 
rence of  the  clergy  will  return.  Tor  it  will  be  ever  true,  what 
was  once  said,  (though  dictated  only  from  the  reason  and  expe- 
rience of  a  heathen,)  qui  bona  Jide  colit  Deos,  amat  el  sacer- 
dotes  ;  '  he  that  sincerely  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 
favor  of  God  is  annexed,  and  on  which  the  salvation  of  souls 
doth  rely.  And  this  good  mainly  depends,  partly  on  the  due 
execution  of  the  priestly  office,  partly  on  the  fit  disposition  of 
the  people  to  comply  therewith  :  and  to  both  those  effects  the 
comfortable  estate  of  the  priesthood  is  conducible  and  requi- 
site. The  priest  must  be  capable  to  instruct  with  advantage, 
and  the  people  disposed  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  discompose  ?  whose  spirit  is  dejected  with  constant 
regret  and  frequent  disappointments  1  Can  he  be  free  and  ex- 
pedite in  the  discharge  of  his  duty,  who  is  perplexed  with  the 
difficulties,  and  incumbered  with  the  varieties  of  secular  busi- 
ness, such  as  the  exigences  of  a  narrow  condition  do  neces- 
sarily induce  ?  Nq  :  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  good  of  the  church,)  as  the  Apostles 
are  often  related  to  have  done,  napprivinieodai,  '  to  speak  all 
out,'  (or  to  use  an  unconfined  liberty  of  speech  ;)  to  exhort  to 


*  Statius,  Epist.  Dedic.  in  v.  lib.  Svlvarum. 


310 


BARROW. — SERMON  XII. 


the  practice  of  virtue,  as  our  Saviour  did,  per  kipvaias,  'with 
licence  and  authority;'  to  deter  from  vice,  as  St.  Paul  enjoins 
Titus,  peril  -a<rrjs  e-irayvs,  '  with  an  all-commanding  and  im- 
perious strain  ;'  and,  (as  those  faithful  brethren  did,  encou- 
raged by  St.  Paul's  example,)  ToXfiyv  dpr./3ws  XaXeJv  tov  \6yov, 
'  to  dare  undauntedly  to  utter  the  word'  of  truth:  they  are  ob- 
liged to  deal  impartially  with  all,  to  flatter  no  man  ;  to  admo- 
nish, 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  engendered,  be  cherished,  be 
preserved,  in  the  breast  of  him  who  grovels  on  the  ground,  and 
crouches  under  the  depressing  loads  of  want  and  disgrace  ?* 
What  engines  are  able  to  raise  the  spirits  of  men  above  the  ordi- 
nary- 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  oppressing  grandee? 
with  what  hope  of  success,  in  his  forlorn  habit,  shall  he  adven- 
ture to  check  the  vicious  extravagances  of  a  ruffling  gallant  ? 
Will  he  dare  to  contradict  the  opinion,  or  to  disallow  the  prac- 
tice of  that  wealthy  or  this  powerful  neighbor,  by  whose  alms, 
it  may  be,  he  is  relieved,  and  supported  by  his  favor  ? 

But  admit  it  possible,  a  man  may  be  both  extremely  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  moderate 
confidence  be  accounted  impudence ;  his  open  sincerity  of 
speech  be  styled  unmannerly  presumption ;  his  minding  others 
of  their  duty  adjudged  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 

*   plurima  sunt  quse 

Non  audent  homines  pertusa  dicere  laena. — Juven.  Sat.  v. 

Ai'5(£j  roixpbs  avoXfS'iri,  8afxros  Si  rpbs  oK&ip  Hes.  i.  317. 

Tlpbs  airavra  5ei\is  i  TtVijs  earl  npiynara, 

Kol  x  cut  as  avTov  K«ra<pf>ortiv  vroAa^fku'ei.— Menand. 


A  CONSECRATION  SERMON. 


311 


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  counselled  or  patiently  re- 
proved 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  degree.*  Weak  and 
ineffectual  are  the  most  eloquent  harangues  of  beggarly  orators  ; 
obscure,  like  themselves,  and  unobserved,  the  most  notable 
dictates  of  poor  mercenary  pedants.  The  authority  of  the 
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  many  helpers';  he  speaketh 
things  not  to  be  spoken,  and  yet  men  justify  him  :  the  poor 
man  miscarried,  and  they  farther  rebuked  him  ;  he  spake  dis- 
creetly, 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  :  '  The  poor  man's 
wisdom  is  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  pulpit, 
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  considered.  While  he  flourished  in  wealth  and 
reputation,  all  men  attended  to  his  counsel,  and  admired  his 
discourse.  '  The  princes,'  saith  he,  '  refrained  talking,  and  laid 
their  hand  on  their  mouth  :  the  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  on  them.'    So  officiously  atten- 

*  Tb  8'  a£iu>)ia,  Kav  kukHs  \fjri,  rb  abv 
Tltiatr  Aiyos  yap  ex  T1  &So£oivruv  tlov, 

K&k  rwv  Soicoirruv  avrbs,  ov  ravrbv  aSivtu — Eurip.  in  Hecuba. 


312  BARROW. — SERMON  XII. 

tive  were  all  men  to  Job  in  his  prosperity.  But  when  the 
scale  was  turned,  and  he  became  depressed  in  estate,  no  man 
minded  either  him  or  his  discourse,  except  it  were  to  despise 
and  scorn  both.  '  But  now,'  saith  he,  '  they  that  are  younger 
than  I  have  me  in  derision,  whose  fathers  I  would  have  dis- 
dained 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  person  who  so 
equally  and  moderately,  yea,  so  humbly,  and  courteously,  and 
bountifully  used  his  prosperity,  as  we  find  he  did,  was  notwith- 
standing 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  exhortations  obtain  ?  what  passion  their 
faint  breath  raise  in  men's  benumbed  hearts  ?  Xo  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  conci- 
liate credit  unto,  and  infuse  a  persuasive  energy  into  the  words 
of  his  prophets  and  apostles,  was  pleased  to  dignify  them  with 
extraordinary  gifts  of  foretelling  future  events  and  doing  mira- 
culous 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  poor 
fishers  of  men  had  caught  by  the  common  allurements  only  of 
innocent  life  and  rational  discourse,  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  farther  add,  how  a  necessitous  and  despicable  estate 
doth  commonly  not  only  disturb  the  minds  and  deject  the 
spirits  of  men,  but  distempereth  also  their  souls,  and  vitiateth 
their  manners ;  rendering  them  not  only  sad  and  anxious, 

*  Prov.  xiv.  20.  The  poor  is  hated  even  of  Ii  is  own  neighbor: 
but  the  rich  hath  many  friends. 


A  CONSECRATION  SERMON. 


313 


slavish  and  timorous,  but  greedy  also  and  covetous,  peevish 
and  mutinous,  rude  and  ignorant ;  engages  them  in  sordid  com- 
pany, and  tempts  them  to  unworthy  courses.  From  which  one 
cause  how  scandalous  effects,  and  how  prejudicial  to  the 
church's  both  honor  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  confer  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  maintenance  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  minister. 

Seeing  therefore  the  good  of  the  church,  on  various  accounts, 
is  so  much  concerned  in  the  priests'  encouragement,  welfare, 
and  respect,  it  is  very  fitting  they  should  have  them.  Which 
consideration  I  conclude  with  that  serious  admonition  of  the 
Apostle  to  the  Hebrews,  wherein  the  substance  of  what  hath 
been  spoken  on  this  point  is  contained :  '  Obey  your  rulers, 
(or  guides,)  and  submit  to  them  ;  for  they  watch  for  your  souls, 
as  they  that  are  to  give  an  account ;  that  they  may  do  it  with 
joy,  and  not  with  complaint;  for  this  is  unprofitable  for  you.' 
'A\i/<rire\es  yap  tovto'  that  is,  '  for  this  pays  no  taxes,  quits  no 
scores  ;  turns  to  no  account,  is  nowise  advantageous  for  you  ;' 
but  rather  (for  there  is  a  pettoms  in  those  words)  is  hurtful  and 
detrimental  to  you.    But  farther, 

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  quali- 
ties, who,  I  pray,  do  [commonly]  better  deserve  those  advan- 
tages 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  discipline.  If  birth  (that  is, 
at  best,  an  imaginary  relation  to  the  gallantry  of  an  ancestor) 
entitle  men  to  honor ;  if  the  cheap  favors  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  pretend  to,  whose  constant  (and  not  always 
unsuccessful)  endeavor  it  hath  been  to  deserve  well,  to  cultivate 
their  minds,  and  regulate  their  manners? 

BAR.  vol.  i.  o 


314 


BARROW.— SERMON  XII. 


True  worth,  indeed,  is  not  confined  to  any  particular  order 
of  men  ;  yet  I  should  wrong  none,  by  saying  it  is  nowhere  more 
plentifully  to  be  found  than  in  this.  What  is  it  that  doth  ad- 
vance men's  nature,  that  adorns  their  minds,  that  commends 
their  persons  to  especial  regard  ?  Is  it  knowlege  ?  '  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,  dissoluteness  and  irreligion,  have  not 
long  since,  like  a  deluge,  overspread  the  face  of  the  world,  none, 
[  suppose,  will  be  so  unjust  as  to  deny,  in  greatest  part,  due 
to  their  vigilant  endeavors.  Even  those  improvements  of  wit 
and  eloquence,  which  are  employed  to  their  disgTace  and  dis- 
advantage, must  be  acknowleged  originally  derived  from  them. 

Faults  they  have  had,  and  will  always  have  ;  for  they  are 
men.  and  subject  to  the  common  imperfections  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 
tood  St.  Ambrose's  words,  Debet  praponderare  vita  sacerdotis, 
sicut  praponderat  gratia ;  were  not  difficult  to  demonstrate,  if 
seemly  to  make  comparisons,  or  to  insist  on  so  invidious  a  sub- 
ject. Nor,  were  they  greater  than  ever  really  they  have  been, 
or  than  ever  malice  could  misrepresent  them,  should  it  be 
therefore  equal,  that  the  miscarriages  of  some  should  derosate 
from  the  reputation  or  prejudice  the  welfare  of  the  whole  order. 

But  to  waive  this  plea  ;  consider  their  employment.  Is  there 
any  office  more  laborious,  more  vexatious  than  theirs  ;  accom- 
panied with  more  wearisome  toil,  more  solicitous  care,  more  te- 
dious attendance?  They  are  deservedly  called  'watchmen,' 
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  indure  the 
various  hardships  of  that  uneasy  life,  the  inconveniences  of  all 
weathers,  the  nipping  frosts  and  sweltry  heats,  and  all  diversi- 
ties  of  irksome  travail ;  they  must  feed,  they  must  guide,  they 
m  defend  ;  they  must  seek  the  lost,  and  reduce  the  straying 
Mieep.    What  assiduity  of  study,  what  earnest  contention  of 


A  CONSECRATION  SERMON. 


315 


soul  are  they  obliged  to  use,  in  the  continual  instruction,  ex- 
hortation, and  reprehension  of  the  people;  in  rectifying  their 
judgments,  satisfying  their  scruples,  removing  their  prejudices, 
bearing-  their  infirmities,  and  sympathising  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  themselves,  in 
the  defence  thereof. 

Eusebius  reports  thus  of  Maximinus  :  Tows  rmv  eiucKrioiGtv  !'ip- 
\ovras  fv'ivovs,  a»s  airiovs  Tijs  caret  tu  evayytXtov  bihci(TKo\ias ,  avat- 
pe'iirdat  irpotjTUTTei.  '  He  commanded  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  ty- 
rant ;  but,  as  a  thing  of  course,  it  constantly  follows  that,  where- 
ever  righteousness  and  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  per- 
secutor'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  diffi- 
culties, and  are  objected  to  so  great  hazards,  should  be  sus- 
tained, 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  the  people  that  dwelt  in  Jerusalem  to  give 
the  portion  of  the  priests  and  Levites,  that  they  might  be  en- 
couraged in  the  law  of  the  Lord  :'  that  is,  they  might  be  hear- 
tened 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 
charges?  who  planteth  a  vineyard,  and  eateth  not  of  the  fruit 


31 G 


BARROW. — SERMON  XII. 


thereof?  or  who  feedeth  a  flock,  and  eateth  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  V  '  Is  it  a  great 
thing  V  do  you  think  much  of  it?  If  you  do,  you  are  unrea- 
sonable, you  are  unjust,  you  are  ingrateful.  And  otherwhere 
he  thus  very  emphatically  admonishes  we  beseech  you,  bre- 
thren, to  mind  them  which  labor  among  you,  and  preside  over  you 
in  the  Lord,  and  that  admonish  you  ;  and  to  esteem  them  more 
than  exceedingly  (vnepeKvcptaaov)  in  love,  for  their  work  (or, 
for  their  office)  sake :'  (so  epyov  frequently  signifies  in  such 
cases.)  And  again  ;  *  Let  the  elders  (or  priests,  ol  Trpeopvrepot,) 
which  rule  well,  be  counted,  worthy  of  double  honor,'  (or  of 
double  recompense  :  so  Tifir)  also  imports.)  Priests,  as  so,  for 
their  office  sake,  have  honor  and  reward  due  to  them ;  which, 
according  to  the  good  management  of  that  office,  are  propor- 
tionably  to  be  augmented  and  multiplied. 

But  farther  yet,  abstracting  from  both  their  personal  worth 
and  the  merit  of  their  service,  consider  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  on  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  al- 
lowed to  do  it  for  themselves  before  equal  judges.  Yet  are 
they  not  men,  endued  with  human  passions  and  resentments  ? 
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  courtesies,  to  help  relations,  to 
gratify  friends,  to  relieve  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  dis- 
cretion, as  much  sobriety,  as  much  honor  as  others  ?  Compare 
things  righteously,  and  let  reason  judge  ;  let  experience  be  exa- 


A  CONSECRATION  SERMON. 


811 


mined  ;  let  those  eternal  monuments  of  their  piety,  their  cha- 
rity, their  hospitality,  declare  and  testify.  Shall,  lastly,  the 
fruits  of  painful  study,  the  improvement  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  (on  so  many  several  scores)  reason- 
able that  Almighty  God  should  undertake  the  protection,  and 
assert  the  honor  of  his  priests,  we  may  not  only  praise  the  good- 
ness, but  approve  also  the  wisdom  of  this  promise,  and  by  the 
contemplation  thereof  strengthen  our  faith  in  reliance  thereon. 
To  which  purpose  one  consideration  more  may  very  much  con- 
duce, 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  inconveniences. 

If  we  reflect  our  thoughts  on  the  first  ages  of  Christianity, 
(not  more  dismal  for  suffering  than  glorious  for  piety,)  it  is  ad- 
mirable to  see  how  sincerely  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  exceed- 
ing 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  ne- 
cessary for  the  Christian  priests  to  undergo  the  greatest  hard- 
ships, according  to  the  design  of  Christian  religion,  (which  was 
to  be  propagated,  not  by  terror  of  power,  nor  by  politic  arti- 
fice, but  by  the  invincible  faith,  resolution,  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  unconstrainedly  embraced  affliction 


318 


BARROW. — SERMON  XII. 


for  righteousness  sake,  and  acquired  thereby  the  certain  frui- 
tion 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  glorious  and  happy  fruits  of  that  illus- 
trious triumph  none  did  partake  more  fully  than  they  who  had 
sustained  the  hardest  brunts  of  the  foregoing  conflict,  and  had 
been  the  principal  causes  of  the  success.  Then  the  joyful 
acclamations  of  the  faithful  people  resounded  in  the  praise  of 
their  victorious  champions  :  then  did  the  emperors  themselves, 
with  arms  outstretched  and  hearts  enlarged,  with  affection 
embrace  the  authors  of  their  happy  conversion  :  then  all  laws 
prejudicial  to  their  welfare  were  rescinded,  and  new  ones  were 
substituted,  abundantly  providing  for  their  security,  honest  live- 
lihood, and  due  reverence  ;  which  in  progress  of  time,  not  in 
the  Roman  empire  only,  but  in  all  other  nations,  (that  after- 
wards did  entertain  Christianity,)  were  nowise  impaired,  but 
were  rather  ampliated  and  fortified  by  the  pious  favor  of  prin- 
ces :  the  barbarous  Goths,  and  Vandals,  and  Lombards,  being 
no  sooner  endued  with  any  degree  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  prevalence  of  antichristian  ini- 
quity, 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  sustenance  ;  have  been  the  objects  of  envy, 
more  than  of  contempt.  Princes  have  loved  and  cherished 
them,  have  relied  on  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 


A  CONSECRATION  SERMON. 


319 


respect  of  the  people  being  in  good  degree  vouchsafed  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  great 
as  ever  ;  and  withal  enjoy  a  maintenance  not  altogether  incon- 
siderable. 

So  favorable  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  confidence  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  showed  us.  But  they  may  be 
also  soon  restored,  repossessed,  readvanced,  and  (I  had  almost 
said)  revenged  too,  as  the  like  experience  doth  assure  us.  It 
is  not  impossible,  I  confess,  we  may  relapse  into  the  same,  or 
into  a  more  calamitous  estate  ;  the  obstinate  disaffections  of 
men  threaten  it,  and  our  own  miscarriages  more  dangerously  : 
yet  the  most  offensive  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.  Inhiant  possessionem, 
prcedia  excolunt,  auro  incubant,  qucestni  per  omnia  student, 
said  a  devout  writer*  of  ecclesiastical  history  about  1300  years 
ago.  And  so  much  no  man  (without  extreme  uncharitableness 
and  falsehood)  can  in  so  general  terms  impute  to  the  present 
clergy  :  notwithstanding  which,  God  did  continue  to  vouch- 
safe his  protection  to  them.  They  were  sometimes,  (by  the  in- 
undations 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  transgressions  with  the 
rod,  and  our  iniquity  with  stripes  :  nevertheless  his  loving- 
kindness  will  he  not  utterly  take  from  us,  nor  suffer  his  faith- 
fulness to  fail.    His  covenant  he  will  not  break,  nor  alter  the 


*  Sulp.  Sev.  lib.  i.  c.  43. 


320 


BARROW.— SERMON  XII. 


thing  that  is  gone  out  of  his  lips.'  God  may  for  a  time  hide 
his  face  from  us ;  but  he  will  not  for  ever  turn  his  back  on  us  : 
the  honor  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  darkness;'  while  religion  retains 
any  sway  in  the  hearts  of  men,  and  truth  possesses  any  room 
on  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  convert  this  promise  into  a  prayer,  and  say  with 
Solomon,  '  Now  therefore  arise,  O  Lord  God,  thou  and  the 
ark  of  thy  strength  :  let  thy  priests,  O  Lord  God,  be  clothed 
with  salvation,  and  let  thy  saints  rejoice  in  goodness.'  Amen. 


S1LRMON  XIII. 


321 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  XIII. 

JAMES,  CHAP.  III. — VERSE  2. 

The  words  of  the  text  declare  that  man  to  be  perfect  who 
offends  not  in  speech ;  and  they  consequently  imply  that  we 
should  avoid  offending  therein.  The  assertion  is  to  be  first 
briefly  explained ;  then  its  truth  declared;  and  afterwards  the 
duty  or  obligation  of  it  pressed.  To  offend  originally  signi- 
fies to  impinge,  or  to  stumble  dangerously  on  somewhat  lying 
across  our  way  :  by  not  offending  in  word  then,  we  may  un- 
derstand such  a  restraint  and  careful  guidance  of  our  tongue, 
that  it  does  not  transgress  the  rules  of  divine  law,  nor  thwart 
the  proper  purposes  for  which  it  was  framed. 

By  a  perfect  man  is  meant  a  person  accomplished  and  com- 
plete in  goodness,  who,  as  to  the  continual  tenor  of  his  life,  is 
free  from  all  notorious  defects  and  heinous  faults ;  walking  in 
all  the  commandments  and  ordinances  of  the  Lord  blameless : 
such  were  Noah,  Abraham,  and  Job.  So  that  in  effect  the 
words  import  this  ;  that  a  constant  government  of  our  speech 
according  to  duty  and  reason,  is  a  special  argument  of  a  sincere 
and  solid  goodness.  The  truth  of  which  aphorism  may  from 
several  considerations  appear. 

1.  A  good  government  of  the  speech  is  a  strong  evidence 
of  a  good  mind,  pure  from  vicious  desires,  disorderly  passions, 
and  dishonest  intentions.  For  speech  is  a  child  of  thought, 
which  the  mind  always  travails  and  teems  with,  and  which, 
after  its  birth,  is  wont  in  features  to  resemble  its  parent :  con- 
firmation of  this  truth  from  Scripture,  &c. 

2.  From  hence,  that  the  use  of  speech  is  itself  a  great  in* 


SUMMARY  OF 


gredient  in  our  practice,  and  hath  a  very  general  influence  on 
whatever  we  do,  it  may  be  inferred  that  whoever  governeth  it 
well,  cannot  also  but  well  order  his  life:  observations  on  the 
province  of  speech,  so  large  as  it  is,  and  so  universally  con- 
cerned, either  immediately  as  the  matter,  or  by  consequence  as 
the  source  of  our  actions. 

3.  To  govern  the  tongue  well  is  a  matter  of  exceeding 
difficulty,  requiring  not  only  hearty  goodness,  but  great  judg- 
ment and  art,  together  with  much  vigilance  and  circumspec- 
tion ;  whence  the  doing  it  argues  a  high  pitch  of  virtue  :  espe- 
cially if  we  consider  that, 

4.  Irregular  speech  hath  commonly  more  advantages  for 
it,  and  fewer  checks  on  it,  than  other  bad  practices  have  :  that 
is,  a  man  is  apt  to  speak  ill  with  less  dissatisfaction  and  regret 
from  within  ;  he  may  do  it  with  less  control  and  hazard  from 
without,  than  he  can  act  ill :  this  enlarged  on. 

5.  AVhereas  most  of  the  enormities,  mischiefs,  and  troubles, 
whereby  the  souls  of  men  are  defiled  and  their  lives  disquieted, 
are  the  fruits  of  ill-governed  speech,  he  that  by  well  governing 
it,  preserves  himself  from  guilt  and  inconvenience,  must  neces- 
sarily be,  not  only  a  wise  and  happy,  but  a  good  and  worthy 
person. 

(!.  His  tongue  also  so  ruled,  cannot  but  produce  very  good 
fruits  of  honor  to  God,  of  benefit  to  his  neighbor,  and  of  com- 
fort to  himself :  this  declared  in  many  passages  of  the  Pro- 
verbs. 

7.  The  observation  how  unusual  this  practice  is,  in  any 
good  degree,  may  strongly  assure  us  of  its  excellency  :  for  the 
rarer,  especially  in  morals,  any  good  thing  is,  the  more  noble 
and  worthy  it  is ;  that  rarity  arguing  somewhat  of  peculiar 
difficulty  in  the  attainment  of  it :  the  topic  enlarged  on.  This 
being  said  for  confirmation  of  the  point  asserted,  it  is  requisite 
that  we  should  understand  and  consider  the  nature  of  those 
several  offences  to  which  speech  is  liable,  together  with  the 


SERMON  XIII. 


special  depravity  and  inconvenience  of  each  :  these  are  various 
in  kind,  according  to  the  difference  of  the  objects  to  which  they 
refer.  Whence,  1.  some  are  committed  against  God,  and  con- 
front piety ;  2.  others  against  our  neighbor,  and  violate  justice, 
charity,  &c.  ;  3.  others  against  ourselves,  infringing  sobriety, 
discretion,  or  modesty  ;  4.  some  are  of  a  more  general  nature, 
crossing  all  the  heads  of  duty.  As  time  would  not  permit  a 
description  of  all  these  kinds,  the  present  discourse  is  confined 
to  some  of  the  first  sort,  that  is,  offences  against  piety,  with 
some  reasons  why  we  should  eschew  them. 

I.  Speaking  blasphemously  against  God,  or  reproachfully 
concerning  religion,  with  intent  to  subvert  men's  faith  in  God, 
or  to  impair  their  reverence  of  him.  This  of  all  impieties  is 
most  prodigiously  gigantic ;  enmity  towards  God,  and  war 
waged  against  heaven.  Of  all  weapons  formed  against  God, 
the  tongue  doth  most  notoriously  impugn  him  ;  for  we  cannot 
reach  heaven  with  our  hands,  or  immediately  assault  God  by 
our  acts  :  other  ill  practice  obliquely,  or  by  consequence,  dis- 
honored him,  and  defameth  goodness  ;  but  profane  discourse 
is  directly  levelled  at  them,  and  doth  immediately  touch  them, 
as  its  formal  objects.  The  extreme  folly  and  wickedness  ot 
this  practice  enlarged  on,  with  the  great  injury  it  does  to 
society. 

II.  Another  like  offence  against  piety  is,  to  speak  loosely 
and  wantonly  about  holy  things,  or  to  make  such  the  matter 
of  sport  and  mockery  :  but  this  topic  will  be  discussed  in  a 
subsequent  discourse. 

III.  Another  grand  offence  is,  rash  and  vain  swearing  in 
common  discourse,  an  offence  which  is  by  far  too  prevalent  in 
the  world,  passing  about  in  a  specious  garb,  as  a  mark  of  fine 
breeding  and  of  graceful  quality.  To  repress  this  vile  practice 
some  considerations  are  offered. 

1.  Swearing  is  most  expressly  and  strictly  prohibited  to  us  : 
Mat.  v.  34.  Jam.  v.  12.    What  more  palpable  affront  there- 


324 


SUMMARY  Of 


fore  can  be  offered  to  our  religion,  and  to  all  that  is  sacred 
among  us? 

2.  According  to  the  very  nature  and  reason  of  things,  it  is 
evidently  intolerable  profaneness  thus  unadvisedly  to  make 
addresses  and  appeals  to  God :  should  we  thus  presume  to 
encroach  on  the  majesty  and  assail  the  ears  of  a  human 
prince  ? 

3.  Swearing  is  by  our  holy  oracles  worthily  represented  to 
us  as  an  especial  piece  of  worship  and  devotion  towards  God  : 
wherefore  it  is  a  horrible  mockery  and  profanation  of  so  sacred 
an  ordinance,  when  we  use  it  without  any  consideration  or 
respect  on  every  light  occasion. 

4.  The  doing  so  is  also  very  prejudicial  to  human  society  ; 
since  the  decision  of  right,  the  security  of  government,  and  the 
preservation  of  peace,  depend  so  much  on  an  awful  regard  to 
oaths,  and  therefore  on  their  being  only  used  in  due  manner 
and  season. 

6.  This  way  of  swearing  is  also  a  very  uncivil  and  unman- 
nerly practice;  a  gross  rudeness  towards  the  main  body  of 
men,  who  justly  reverence  the  name  of  God,  and  loathe  such 
abuse  of  it. 

6.  This  practice  also  derogates  from  the  credit  of  him  that 
uses  it,  rendering  the  truth  of  whatever  he  says  in  reason  and 
justice  suspected. 

7.  It  can  be  no  wrong  to  distrust  him,  since  he  implies  him- 
self not  to  be,  even  in  his  own  opinion,  a  credible  person; 
since  he  judges  not  his  own  bare  affirmation  to  deserve  belief. 

8.  To  excuse  this,  the  swearer  must  be  forced  to  confess 
another  ugly  fault  in  speaking ;  that  is,  impertinence,  or  the 
using  of  waste  and  insignificant  words  :  this  enlarged  on. 

9.  This  offence  is  particularly  inexcusable,  in  that  it  scarcely 
has  any  temptation  to  it,  or  brings  with  it  any  advantage.  It 
gratifies  no  sense,  yields  no  profit,  procures  no  honor. 

Finally,  as  to  this  whole  point,  about  not  offending  in  our 


SERMON  XIII. 


329 


speech  against  piety,  we  should  consider  that,  as  we  ourselves, 
with  all  our  members  and  powers,  were  chiefly  designed  and 
framed  to  serve  and  glorify  our  Maker,  so  especially  our  tongue 
was  given  us,  to  declare  our  admiration  and  reverence  of  him, 
to  express  our  love  and  gratitude  to  him,  to  celebrate  his  praise, 
and  promote  his  honor :  hence  it  becomes  in  effect  what  the 
psalmist  so  often  terms  it,  our  glory,  and  the  best  member  we 
have.  Therefore,  to  apply  it  to  any  impious  discourse,  and 
the  dishonor  of  God,  is  a  most  unnatural  abuse  of  it,  and  vile 
ingratitude. 


126 


BARROW. — SERMON  XIII. 


SERMON  XIII. 

NOT  TO  OFFEND  IN  WORD  AN  EVIDENCE  OF 
A  HIGH  PITCH  OF  VIRTUE. 


JAMES,  CHAP.  III. — VERSE  2. 
If  any  man  offend  not  in  word,  he  is  a  perfect  man. 

This  sentence  stands  in  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  perversely  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  illus- 
trated. 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  offending  therein  ;  for  to  '  be  perfect,'  and  to 
'go  on  to  perfection,' are  precepts,  the  observance  whereof  is 
incumbent  on  us.  We  shall  first  briefly  explain  the  assertion, 
and  then  declare  its  truth  ;  afterwards  we  shall  press  somewhat 
couched  in  the  duty. 

To  offend  originally  signifies  to  impinge,  that  is,  to  stumble, 
or  hit  dangerously  on  somewhat  lying  cross  our  way,  so  as 
thereby  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  temptation  brought 
into  sin,  whereby  a  man  is  thrown  down,  or  bowed  from  his 


OF  NOT  OFFENDING  IN  WORD. 


:J27 


upright  state,  and  interrupted  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  conversation 
'  walking,'  our  actions  '  steps,'  our  observing  good  laws  '  up- 
rightness,' our  transgression  of  them  '  tripping,  faultering, 
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  neighbor's  benefit,  and  our  own  true  welfare. 

By  'a  perfect  man'  is  meant  a  person  accomplished  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  to  all 
God's  commandments  :'  like  Zachary  and  Elizabeth, '  walking 
in  all  the  commandments  and  ordinances  of  the  Lord  blame- 
less.' Thus  was  Noah,  thus  was  Abraham,  thus  was  Job 
perfect.  This  is  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  with  the  nature  and 
state  of  man  here,  where  none  with  modesty  or  with  truth  can 
say,  '  I  have  made  my  heart  clean,  I  am  pure  from  my  sin  ;' 
where  every  man  must  confess  with  Job,  '  If  I  justify  myself, 
mine  own  mouth  shall  condemn  me ;  if  I  say  I  am  perfect,  it 
shall  prove  me  perverse.'  For  '  there  is  not,'  as  the  preacher 
assures,  'a  just  man  on  earth,  that  doeth  good,  and  sinneth 
not;'  and  'in  many  things  we  offend  all,'  is  our  Apostle's 
assertion,  immediately  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  mau  is  perfect;'  perfect  in  such  a 
kind  and  degree  as  human  frailty  doth  admit ;  he  is  eminently 
good  ;  he  may  be  reasonably  presumed  upright  and  blameless 
in  all  the  course  of  his  practice;  'able,'  as  it  follows,  'to 


B28 


BARROW.— SERMON  XIII. 


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  according  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  wont  in  features 
to  resemble  its  parents  ;  since  every  man  naturally  is  ambitious 
to  propagate  his  conceits,  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  humors ;  since  he  that  wanteth  the  prin- 
cipal wisdom  of  well  ordering  his  thoughts,  and  mastering  his 
passions,  can  hardly  be  conceived  so  prudent,  as  lcmg  to  refrain, 
or  to  regulate  their  dependence,  speech ;  considering  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  whirl- 
wind, may  perhaps  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?  '  How  can  ye,  being  evil,  speak  good 
things?'  saith  our  Lord;  '  for  from  the  abundance  of  the  heart 
the,  mouth  speaketh.'    '  A  good  man,'  addeth  he,  'out  of  the 


OF  NOT  OFFENDING  IN  WORD. 


329 


good  treasure  of  the  heart  bringeth  forth  good  things ;  and  an 
evil  man  out  of  the  evil  treasure  bringeth  forth  evil  things  :' 
e<c/3dX\ei  irovripa,  '  he  casteth  forth  ill  things,'  as  a  fountain  doth 
its  waters  by  a  natural  and  necessary  ebullition.  It  is  true, 
that  in  some  particular  cases,  or  at  some  times,  a  foul  heart 
may  be  disguised  by  fair  words,  or  covered  by  demure  reser- 
vedness :  shame,  or  fear,  or  crafty  design,  may  often  repress  the 
declaration  of  ill  thoughts  and  purposes.  But  such  fits  of 
dissimulation  cannot  hold;  men  cannot  abide  quiet  under  so  vio- 
lent 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,  expressing  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  loquere,  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 
one  to  another  :  neither  commonly  doth  any  man  require  more 
to  ground  a  judgment  on  concerning  the  worth  or  ability  of 
another,  than  opportunity  of  hearing  him  to  discourse  for  a 
competent  time  :  yea,  often  before  a  man  hath  spoken  ten 
words,  fiis  mind  is  caught,  and  a  formal  sentence  is  passed  on 
it.  Such  a  strict  affinity  and  connexion  do  all  men  suppose 
between  thoughts  and  words. 

2.  From  hence,  that  the  use  of  speech  is  itself  a  great  in- 
gredient into  our  practice,  and  hath  a  very  general  influence  on 
whatever  we  do,  may  be  inferred,  that  whoever  governeth  it 
well,  cannot  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 


330  BARROW.— SERMON  XIII. 

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  affec- 
tions 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  profession  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  them  princes  rule  their  subjects,  generals 
command  their  armies,  senators  deliberate  and  debate  about 
the  great  matters  of  state  :  by  them  advocates  plead  causes, 
and  judges  decide  them  ;  divines  perform  their  offices,  and 
minister  their  instructions  ;  merchants  strike  up  their  bargains, 
and  drive  on  all  their  traffic.  Whatever  almost  great  or  small 
is  done  in  the  court  or  in  the  hall,  in  the  church  or  at  the  ex- 
change, 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  simple  life  of 
other  creatures,  so  exceedingly  various  and  compounded ; 
which  creates  such  a  multiplicity  of  business,  and  which  trans- 
acts 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, 
aud  administration  of  justice,  of  learning,  and  of  religion,  is 
managed  thereby;  yea,  while  itstoppeth  the  gaps  of  time,  and 
filleth  up  the  wide  intervals  of  business,  our  recreations  and 
divertisements  (the  which  do  constitute  a  great  portion  of  our 
life)  mainly  consisting  therein,  so  that,  in  comparison  thereof, 
the  execution  of  what  we  determine  and  all  other  action  do 
take  up  small  room :  and  even  all  that  usually  dependeth  on 
foregoing  speech,  which  persuadeth,  or  counselleth,  or  com- 
mandeth  it.  Whence  the  province  of  speech  being  so  very 
large,  it  being  so  universally  concerned,  either  immediately 
as  the  matter,  or  by  consequence  as  the  source  of  our  actions, 


OF  NOT  OFFENDING  IN  WORD. 


331 


he  that  constantly  governed)  it  well  may  justly  be  esteemed 
to  live  very  excellently. 

3.  To  govern  the  tongue  well  is  a  matter  of  exceeding  diffi- 
culty, requiring  not  only  hearty  goodness,  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  can- 
not but  need  much  attention  to  keep  it  either  in  a  steady  rest, 
or  in  a  right  motion.  Since  numberless  swarms  of  things  rov- 
ing in  the  fancy  do  thence  incessantly  obtrude  themselves  on 
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  internal  propensions  and 
commotions  of  soul,  every  object  we  behold,  every  company 
we  are  engaged  in,  every  accident  befalling  us,  doth  suggest 
somewhat  inviting  thereto ;  the  condition  of  our  neighbor 
moving  us,  if  high,  to  flatter,  if  low,  to  insult;  our  own  fortune 
prompting,  if  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,' 
saith  he,  '  purposed  that  my  mouth  shall  not  offend:'  and,  'I 
said,'  saith  he  again,  '  I  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  con- 
stant 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  considering  that, 

4.  Irregular  speech  hath  commonly  divers  more  advantages 
for  it,  and  fewer  checks  on  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 


332 


BARROW. — SERMON  XIII. 


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  tran- 
sient, soon  born,  and  as  soon  deceased  ;  whence  men  rashly  utter 
them  without  much  heed  before  them,  or  much  reflexion  after 
them.  Bad  actions  have  also  usually  visible  effects  immedi- 
ately consequent  on  them :  but  words  operate  insensibly  and 
at  distance:  so  that  men  hardly  discern  what  will  follow  them, 
or  what  they  have  effected.  There  are  also  frequent  occasions 
of  speaking  ill  on  presumption  of  secrecy,  and  thence  of  indis- 
turbance  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  pleasure  and  commendation.  Bad  language  also  in  most 
cases  is  neither  strictly  prohibited,  nor  severely  chastised  by 
human  laws,  as  bad  action  is.  Whence  ordinarily  the  guilt  of 
this  misbehavior  seems  little  or  none  ;  and  persons  much  prac- 
tising it,  both  in  their  own  conceit,  and  in  the  opinion  of  others, 
do  often  pass  for  innocent.  Men  indeed  here  will  hardly  dis- 
cern any  rule,  or  acknowlege  any  obligation  :  the  tongue  they 
deem  is  free,  and  any  words  may  be  dispensed  with :  it  is  suffi- 
cient if  they  abstain  from  doing  gross  wrong  or  mischief,  they 
have  a  right  and  liberty  to  say  any  thing.  '  Our  lips  are  our 
own ;  who  is  Lord  over  us  V  so  are  men  commonly  prone  to 
say,  with  those  in  the  Psalm.  Hence  whosoever,  notwith- 
standing such  encouragements  to  offend  herein,  and  so  few  re- 
straints from  it,  doth  yet  carefully  forbear  it,  governing  his 
tongue  according  to  rules  of  duty  and  reason,  may  justly  be  re- 
puted a  very  good  man.  Farthermore, 

5.  Whereas  most  of  the  enormities,  the  mischiefs,  and  the 
troubles,  whereby  the  souls  of  men  are  defiled,  their  minds  dis- 
composed, and  their  lives  disquieted,  are  the  fruits  of  ill-go- 
verned speech;  it  being  that  chiefly  which  perverteth  justice, 
which  soweth  dissensions,  which  raiseth  all  bad  passions  and 
•»  animosities,  which  embroileth  the  world  in  seditions  and  fac- 
tions, by  which  men  wrong  and  abuse,  deceive  and  seduce,  de- 
fame and  disgrace  one  another,  whereby  consequently  innume- 
rable vexations  and  disturbances  are  created  among  men ;  he 


OF  NOT  OFFENDING  IN  WORD. 


333 


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 
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  honor  to  God,  of  benefit  to  his  neighbor,  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  edifying,  or  cheer- 
ing and  comforting  the  hearers.  His  '  tongue  is  health;'  his 
'  mouth  is  a  well  and  tree  of  life  ;'  his  '  lips  disperse  knowlege;' 
he  '  shall  be  satisfied  with  good  by  the  fruit  of  his  mouth ; 
every  man  shall  kiss  his  lips.'  Such,  as  the  wise  man  telleth 
us,  are  the  effects  of  innocent,  sober,  and  well-ordered  dis- 
course ;  the  which  do  much  commend  their  author,  and  declare 
the  excellent  virtue  of  that  tree  from  which  such  fruits  do 
grow. 

7.  Lastly,  the  observation  how  unusual  this  practice  is,  in 
any  good  degree,  may  strongly  assure  the  excellency  thereof. 
For  the  rarer,  especially  in  morals,  any  good  thing  is,  the  more 
noble  and  worthy  it  is ;  that  rarity  arguing  somewhat  of  pecu- 
liar difficulty  in  the  attainment  or  the  achievement  thereof. 
Nothing  is  more  obvious  to  common  experience,  than  that 
persons,  who  in  the  rest  of  their  demeanor  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  licentious- 
ness in  speaking  whatever  their  humor  or  their  passion  dictates. 
Many,  in  other  respects  harmless,  (who  would  not  for  any 
thing  smite  or  slay  folks,)  we  may  observe  with  their  tongue  to 
commit  horrible  outrages  on  any  man  that  comes  in  their  way. 
Frequently  persons  very  punctual  in  their  dealings  are  very 
unjust  in  their  language,  cheating  and  robbing  their  neighbor 
of  his  reputation  by  envious  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, 


334 


BARROW. — SERMON  XIII. 


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  enjoyments  of  plea- 
sure, are  enormously  intemperate  in  speaking,  and  very  incon- 
tinent 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  pretenders 
to  godliness,  and  zealous  practisers  of  devotion,  cannot  forbear 
speaking  things  plainly  repugnant  to  God's  law,  and  very  pre- 
judicial to  his  honor.  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  practice,  the  strict  govern- 
ance of  the  tongue  is  least  ordinary,  and  consequently,  that  it 
is  most  admirable  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  endea- 
vor the  attainment  of  integrity  in  heart  and  life,  so  we  should 
especially  labor  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  offences  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  against  God,  and  con- 
front piety  ;  2.  others  against  our  neighbor,  and  violate  justice, 
or  charity,  or  peace ;  3.  others  against  ourselves,  infringing 

*  Tanta  hujus  mali  libido  mentes  hominum  invasit,  ut  etiam  qui 
procul  ab  aliis  vitiis  recesserunt,  in  istud  tamen,  quasi  in  extremuni 
iliaboli  laqueum,  incidaut. — Ad  Celant. 


OF  NOT  OFFENDING  IN  WORD. 


335 


sobriety,  discretion,  or  modesty ;  or,  4.  some  are  of  a  more 
general  and  abstracted  nature,  rambling  through  all  matters, 
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  neighbor,  at  least  by  contagion  and  bad  example ;  we 
I       abuse  ourselves,  contracting  guilt,  and  exposing  ourselves  to 
punishment :  also  the  general  vices  of  speech  (unadvisedness 
)       and  vanity)  do  constantly  adhere  to  every  bad  word  :  yet  com- 
monly each  evil  speech  hath  a  more  direct  and  immediate  as- 
j       pect  on  some  one  of  those  objects,  (God,  our  neighbor,  or  our- 
]       selves,)  and  is  peculiarly  repugnant  to  one  of  those  capital 
I       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 
I     these  sorts  of  offence:  but  (since  I  must  be  respectful  to  pa- 
tience, 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  (waiving  the 
rest)  only  touch  two  or  three,  insinuating  some  reasons  why  we 
J       should  eschew  them.    These  are, 

I.   Speaking  blasphemously  against  God,  or  reproachfully 
concerning  religion,  or  to  the  disgrace  of  piety,  with  intent  to 
\       subvert  men's  faith  in  God,  or  to  impair  their  reverence  of  him. 
f       There  hath  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  set  their  mouth  against  the  hea- 
vens ;'  who,  like  the  proud  Sennacherib,  '  lift  up  their  eyes, 
.       and  exalt  their  voice  against  the  Holy  One  of  Israel ;'  who, 
j       with  the  profane  Antiochus,  '  speak  marvellous  things  against 
I       the  God  of  gods.'     This  of  all  impieties  is  the  most  prodi- 
giously  gigantic,  the  most  signal  practice  of  enmity  towards 
f       God,  and  downright  waging  of  war  against  heaven.    Of  all 
r,       '  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  dishonoreth  God,  and  de- 
fameth  goodness  ;  but  profane  discourse  is  directly  levelled  at 


336 


BARROW. — SERMON  XIII. 


them,  and  doth  immediately  touch  them,  as  its  formal  objects. 
Now  doing  thus  argueth  an  extremity  both  of  folly  and  naughti- 
ness :  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  ad- 
visedly to  invite  certain  mischief  to  his  home,  and  pull  down 
heaviest  vengeance  on  his  own  head,  by  opposing  the  irresisti- 
ble 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  conspiracy  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  ex- 
travagance 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  considered  the  point,  against  the 
current  tradition  of  all  ages,  and  general  consent  of  mankind  ; 
all  which  to  withstand,  no  less  demonstrated  high  indiscretion 
than  arrogance  ;  beside  also  the  palpable  silliness  which  he  dis- 
plays, in  causelessly  (or  for  no  other  cause  than  soothing  a  fan- 
tastic humor)  drawing  on  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  private  zeal  and  public  law ;  beside,  I  say,  these 
evident  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  consi- 
deration, 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  charg- 
ing it  with  greatest  fondness.  Who  can  endure  that  He,  whom 
he  apprehends  to  be  his  grand  Parent,  his  best  Friend  and  Be- 


OF  NOT  OFFENDING  IN  WORD. 


331 


nefactor,  his  great  Patron  and  Sovereign,  should  in  downright 
terms  be  detained  or  disparaged?  Who  can  patiently  bear  that, 
wherein  he  placeth  his  utmost  hopes  and  supreme  felicity,  to 
be  expressly  slighted  or  scorned  ?  Who  can  take  the  offering 
to  do  this,  otherwise  than  for  a  most  injurious  reflexion  on  his 
judgment  and  his  practice  ?  If  he  cannot  believe  in  God,  he 
may  let  them  alone  who  do  :  if  he  will  not  practise  religion,  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 
profane  talker.  Seeing  also  it  is  most  evident  that  hearty  re- 
verence of  God,  and  a  conscientious  regard  to  religion,  do  pro- 
duce great  benefits  to  mankind,  being  indeed  the  main  supports 
of  common  honesty  and  sobriety,  the  sole  curbs,  effectually  re- 
straining 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  perform- 
ance of  those  actions,  whereby  not  only  men's  private  welfare 
is  promoted,  and  ordinary  conversation  is  sweetened,  and  com- 
mon 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  itself  (of  all 
virtues  the  best  guarded  and  fortified  by  human  power)  'could 
not  subsist,  no  faith  could  be  secured,  no  society  could  be  pre- 
served among  men  ;'  it  being  manifestly  vain  to  fancy  that  as- 
suredly without  religious  conscience  any  one  will  be  a  good 
subject,  a  true  friend,  or  an  honest  man  ;  or  that  any  other  con- 
sideration can  induce  men  to  prefer  duty  to  their  prince,  the 
prosperity  of  their  country,  fidelity  toward  their  friends  or 
neighbors,  before  their  own  present  interests  and  pleasure  :  since, 
I  say,  the  credit  of  religion  is  so  very  beneficial  and  useful  to 
mankind,  it  is  plain  that  he  must  be  exceedingly  spiteful  and 
malicious  who  shall  by  profane  discourse  endeavor  to  supplant 
or  shake  it.  He  that  speaketh  against  God's  providence  hath 
assuredly  a  pique  at  goodness,  and  would  not  have  it  predomi- 
nant in  the  hearts  of  men.  He  that  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  impurities,  or  like 
bar.  vol.  I.  p 


338 


BARROW.— SERMON  XIII. 


fiends  in  mischievous  iniquities.  Such  an  one  therefore  is  not 
to  be  taken  as  a  simple  embracer  of  error,  but  as  a  spiteful  de- 
signer against  common  good.  For  indeed,  were  any  man  as- 
sured (as  none  can  on  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 
conducible  to  the  public  weal  ;)  that  it  were  merely  an  imple- 
ment of  policy,  or  a  knack  to  make  people  loyal  to  their  prince, 
upright  in  their  dealings,  sober  in  their  conversations,  moderate 
in  their  passions,  virtuous  in  all  their  doings ;  it  were  yet  a 
most  barbarous  naughtiness  and  inhumanity  in  him  to  assay  the 
overthrow  thereof,  with  the  defeating  so  excellent  purposes  : 
he  that  should  attempt  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. 

III.  Another  grand  offence  against  piety  is,  rash  and  vain 
swearing  in  common  discourse  ;  an  offence  which  now  strangely 
reins  and  rages  in  the  world,  passing  about  in  a  specious  garb 
and  under  glorious  titles,  as  a  gentle  and  graceful  quality,  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,  t( 
second  any  giddy  passion,  to  concern  himself  in  any  trivial 
affair  of  his ;  yea,  calling  and  challenging  the  Almighty  t( 
damn  and  destroy  him  !  But  somewhat  to  repress  these  fonc 
conceits  and  vile  practices,  let  us,  I  pray,  consider, 

1.  That  swearing  thus  is  most  expressly  and  strictly  prohi 
bited  to  us.  'I  say  unto  you,  swear  not  at  all ;  but  let  you 
conversation  be  yea,  yea ;  nay,  nay;  for  whatsoever  is  mor> 
than  these  cometh  of  evil so  our  Lord  forbids  it.    '  Bu 


OF  NOT  OFFENDING  IN  WORD.  330 

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  pal- 
pable affront  could  be  offered  to  our  religion,  and  to  all  that  is 
sacred  among  us  ?  For  what  respect  or  force  can  we  imagine 
reserved  to  religion,  while  a  practice  so  indisputably  opposite 
thereto,  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  profaneness,  thus  unadvisedly  to 
make  addresses  and  appeals  to  God,  .invoking  his  testimony, 
and  demanding  his  judgment  about  trifles  ;  far  more  such,  then 
it  were  a  high  presumption  and  encroachment  on  the  majesty  of 
a  prince,  on  every  petty  occasion  to  break  into  his  presence, 
and  to  assail  his  ears,  dragging  him  to  hear  and  determine  con- 
cerning it.  Whence  the  very  light  of  nature  condemns  this 
practice,  and  even  heathens  have  loudly  declared  against  it,  as 
derogatory  to  the  reverence  of  the  duty,  and  unsuitable  to  the 
gravity  of  a  worthy  man. 

3.  Swearing  indeed  is  by  our  holy  oracles  worthily  repre- 
sented to  us  as  an  especial  piece  of  worship  and  devotion 
toward  God  ;  wherein,  duly  performed,  we  piously  acknow- 
lege  his  chief  attributes  and  singular  prerogatives :  (his  being 
every  where  present,  and  conscious  of  all  we  say  or  do ;  his 
goodness  and  fidelity,  in  favoring  truth  and  protecting  right ; 
hisjustice  in  rewarding  veracity  and  equity,  in  avenging  false- 
hood 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  con- 
sideration and  humble  reverence  ;  the  cause  should  be  certainly 
just  and  true,  the  matter  worthy  and  weighty,  the  manner  grave 
and  solemn,  the  mind  framed  to  earnest  attention,  and  fur- 
nished with  devout  affections.    Those  conditions  are  always 


340  BARROW. — SERMON  XIII. 

carefully  to  be  observed,  which  the  prophet  intimates  when  he 
charges  thus  :  '  Thou  shalt  swear,  The  lord  livetb,  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, 
without  any  respect  or  awe,  on  any  slight  or  vain  occasion. 

4.  The  doing  so  is  also  very  prejudicial  to  human  society  ; 
for  the  decision  of  right,  the  security  of  government,  and  the 
preservation  of  peace,  do  much  depend  on  an  awful  regard  to 
oaths ;  and  therefore  on  their  being  only  used  in  due  manner 
and  season  :  the  same  do  greatly  suffer  by  the  contempt  or 
disregard  of  them,  and  consequently  by  their  common  and 
careless  use.  They  are  the  surest  bonds  by  which  the  con- 
sciences of  men  are  tied  to  the  attestation  of  truth  and  obser- 
vance 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  serious  therein  at  the  bar,  or  in  the  church  ?  Will  they 
resard  the  testimony  of  God,  or  dread  his  judgment,  in  one 
place,  or  at  one  time,  when  as  every  where  continually  (on  any, 
on  no  occasion)  they  dare  to  affront  and  contemn  them  ? 

5.  This  way  of  swearing  is  also  a  very  uncivil  and  unman- 
nerly 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  common  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  good- 
ness, or  is  anywise  concerned  for  God's  honor)  no  language  or 
behavior  can  be  more  disgustful ;  nothing  can  more  grate  the 
<»ars  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  won- 


OF  NOT  OFFENDING  IN  WORD. 


341 


der,  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. 

G.  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, 
why  should  we  conceive  him  in  regard  to  another  ? 

7.  It  can  be  surely  no  wrong  to  distrust  him,  since  he  im- 
plies 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  he  back  it  with  such  asseverations  ?  why  unprovoked 
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  on 
itself,  and  not  want  an  oath  to  support  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  however  unavoidably  liable.  For  oaths,  as  they  pass 
commonly,  are  mere  excrescences  of  speech,  which  do  nothing 
else  but  incumber  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  pertinent.  These  superfluous  words  signify  no- 
thing, but  that  the  speaker  little  skilleth  the  use  of  speech,  ^r 
the  rule  of  conversation,  but  meaneth  to  prate  any  thing  with- 
out wit  or  judgment ;  that  his  fancy  is  very  beggarly,  and 
craves  the  aid  of  any  impertinency  to  relieve  it.  One  would 
think  that  a  man  of  sense  should  grutch  to  lend  his  ears,  or  in- 
cline his  attention  to  such  putid  stuff";  that  without  nauseating 
he  should  not  endure  to  see  men  lavish  time,  and  squander 
breath  so  frivolously. 


843 


BARROW. — SERMON  XIII. 


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  va- 
nity or  perverseness)  should  dispose  men  thereto.  It  gratirieth 
no  sense,  it  yieldeth  no  profit,  it  procureth  no  honor :  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  produceth  dis- 
pleasure, damage,  and  disgrace.  Wherefore  of  all  dealers  in 
sin,  the  swearer  is  apparently  the  silliest,  and  maketh  the  worst 
bargains  for  himself;  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  com- 
pared 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  humor  possesses  him,  he  inconsiderately  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 
wickeduess  so  contemptible,  so  heinous,  and  so  senseless,  and 
withal  so  notorious,  and  so  rife  among  us,  doth  extort  from 
me  language  somewhat  tart  and  vehement. 

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  man  endued  with  a  scrap  of  reason, 
not  to  say  with  a  grain  of  religion.  Could  we  bethink  our- 
selves, certainly  modest,  sober,  and  pertinent  discourse  would 
appear  far  more  generous  and  manly,  than  such  wild  hectoring 
God  Almighty,  such  rude  insulting  over  the  received  laws, 
such  ruffianly  swaggering  against  sobriety  and  goodness.  If 
gentlemen  would  regard  the  virtues  of  their  ancestors,  (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  re- 
turn to  the  dunghill,  or  rather  (which  God  grant !)  would  be 
<]iiite  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, 


OF  NOT  OFFENDING  IN  WORD. 


343 


with  all  our  members  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  fa- 
culty were  given  us  to  declare  our  admiration  and  reverence  of 
him,  to  express  our  love  and  gratitude  toward  him,  to  celebrate 
his  praises,  to  acknowlege  his  benefits,  to  promote  his  honor 
and  service.  This  consequently  is  the  most  proper  and  worthy 
use  thereof;  from  this  it  becomes  in  effect  what  the  psalmist  so 
often  terms  it,  our  *  glory,'  and  the  best  member  we  have  ;  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  dishonor  of  God, 
or  disparagement  of  religion,)  is  a  most  unnatural  abuse  there- 
of, 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. 


344 


SUMMARY  OF 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  XIV. 

EPHESIAXS,  CHAP.  V. — VERSE  4. 

Moral  and  political  aphorisms  are  seldom  couched  in  such 
terms  that  they  should  be  taken  precisely  as  they  sound,  or 
according  to  the  widest  extent  of  signification  :  but  commonly 
need  exposition,  and  admit  exception.  The  best  masters  of 
such  wisdom  are  wont  to  interdict  things  apt  to  be  perverted, 
in  general  forms  of  speech,  leaving  the  restrictions  which  the 
case  may  require  or  bear,  to  be  made  by  the  interpreter's  discre- 
tion ;  whence  many  formal  prohibitions  may  be  received  as  sober 
cautions. 

It  is  considered  how  the  foregoing  observation  may  be  applied 
to  the  prohibition  in  the  text. 

But  though  we  have  some  warrant  from  St.  Paul  himself, 
some  intimation  in  the  words  themselves,  for  thus  expounding 
it,  yet  it  is  manifest  there  is  some  kind  of  speech  which  he  for- 
bids: whence  in  order  to  guide  our  practice,  it  is  needful  to 
distinguish  the  kinds,  and  to  sever  that  which  is  allowable  from 
what  is  unlawful.  Such  a  resolution  shown  to  be  especially 
needful  in  this  age  ;  to  repress  the  extravagance  and  excesses  of 
which,  nothing  in  way  of  discourse  can  serve  better  than  a  plain 
declaration  when  and  how  the  use  of  facetiousness  and  jesting 
is  allowable  or  tolerable  ;  when  it  is  vain  and  wicked. 

But,  first,  it  may  be  demanded  what  the  thing  spoken  of  is  ; 
what  this  facetiousness  imports  ?  The  question  answered  by 
the  celebrated  definition  or  description  of  wit,  including  every 
species  of  it  :  after  which  it  is  shown  ;  first,  when  and  how  such 


SERMON  XIV. 


348 


a  manner  of  speaking  may  be  allowed  ;  then  in  what  matters 
and  ways  it  should  be  condemned. 

I.  Such  facetiousness  is  not  absolutely  unreasonable  or  un- 
lawful, which  ministers  harmless  diversion  and  delight  to  con- 
versation ;  that  is,  such  as  intrenches  not  on  piety,  infringes  not 
charity  or  justice,  and  disturbs  not  peace  :  for  Christianity  is 
not  so  harsh  or  envious  as  to  bar  us  continually  from  innocent, 
much  less  wholesome  and  useful  pleasure,  such  as  human  life 
needs  and  requires  :  this  point  enlarged  on.  2.  Facetiousness 
is  allowable  when  it  is  the  most  proper  instrument  for  exposing 
things  apparently  base  and  vile  to  due  contempt :  derision 
raised  against  such  things  may  effectually  discountenance  them. 
Example  of  the  prophet  Elias  with  the  worshippers  of  Baal, 
1  Kings  xviii.  27.  3.  Facetious  discourse  may  be  particu- 
larly commodious  for  reproving  some  vices,  and  reclaiming  some 
persons,  as  salt  for  cleansing  and  curing  some  sores.  It  com- 
monly works  an  easy  access  to  the  heart ;  and  many  who  will 
not  stand  a  direct  reproof,  will  bear  a  jocund  wipe.  4.  Some 
errors  likewise  in  this  way  may  be  most  properly  and  most  suc- 
cessfully refuted.  Sophistical  captiousness  and  sceptical  wan- 
tonness is  more  surely  confounded  in  this  than  in  the  simple 
way  of  discourse ;  for  it  is  vain  to  be  in  earnest  with  those  who 
reject  the  grounds  of  reasoning.  5.  This  also  is  commonly 
the  best  way  of  defence  against  unjust  reproach  and  slander ; 
for  to  yield  a  serious  reply  to  a  slanderous  reviler,  seems  to 
imply  that  we  much  consider  or  deeply  resent  it.  G.  This 
way  may  be  allowed  for  the  purpose  of  counterbalancing,  and 
in  compliance  with  the  fashion  of  others.  It  would  be  a  dis- 
advantage to  truth  and  virtue  if  their  defenders  were  barred 
from  the  use  of  this  weapon,  since  it  is  that  especially  whereby 
the  patrons  of  error  and  vice  maintain  and  propagate  them.  It 
seems  especially  requisite  to  employ  it  in  this  age  ;  and  since 
men  are  so  irreclaimably  disposed  to  mirth  and  laughter,  it  may 
be  well  to  divert  their  humor  into  a  proper  channel.  7.  More- 


SUMMARY  OF 


over,  the  warrantableness  of  this  practice  in  some  cases  may  be 
thus  inferred  from  a  parity  of  reason.  If  it  be  lawful  in  using 
rhetorical  schemes,  poetical  strains,  involutions  of  sense  in  alle- 
gories, &c,  to  depart  from  the  plain  and  simple  way  of  speech  ; 
why  may  not  facetiousness,  issuing  from  the  same  principles,  and 
directed  to  the  same  ends,  be  likewise  used  blamelessly  ?  This 
point  enlarged  on.  8.  It  may  be  added  that  of  old  even  the 
sagest  and  gravest  persons  affected  this  kind  of  discourse,  and 
applied  it  to  noble  purposes  :  examples  given.  9.  Finally, 
since  it  cannot  be  shown  that  such  a  sport  of  wit  and  fancy 
contains  an  intrinsic  and  inseparable  turpitude,  since  it  may  be 
so  used  as  not  to  defile  or  discompose  the  mind  of  the  speaker, 
harm  the  hearer,  or  derogate  from  any  worthy  subject  of  dis- 
course, &c.  but  rather  sometimes  may  yield  advantage,  it  can- 
not well  be  absolutely  and  universally  condemned.  It  is  the 
abuse  of  it  that  corrupts  it;  and  hence  the  Apostle's  prohibi- 
tion. To  what  case  or  what  sorts  of  jesting  this  extends  is  next 
considered. 

II.  1.  All  profane  jesting,  all  loose  and  wanton  speaking, 
about  holy  things,  relating  to  God  and  religion ,  is  certainly  prohi- 
bited as  an  intolerable  vain  and  wicked  practice.  No  man  has 
the  heart  to  jest,  nor  does  he  think  raillery  convenient,  in  cases 
nearly  touching  his  life,  his  estate,  or  his  fame  ;  and  are  the  true 
life  and  health  of  the  soul,  interest  in  God's  favor,  and  everlast- 
ing bliss,  affairs  of  less  moment  ?  Are  the  joys  of  paradise  and 
hell  torments  mere  jesting  matters?  This  point  enlarged  on. 
2.  All  injurious,  abusive,  scurrilous  jesting,  which  causelessly 
tends  to  the  disparagement,  disgrace,  or  injury  of  our  neighbor, 
is  also  prohibited  :  this  is  not  urbanity  or  genuine  facetiousness, 
but  uncivil  rudeness  or  vile  malignity;  the  office  of  base,  un- 
generous spirits.  The  reputation  of  men  is  too  noble  a  sacrifice 
to  be  offered  up  to  vain-glory  or  ill  humor.  True  festivity  is 
called  salt  ;  and  such  it  should  be,  giving  a  smart  but  savory 
relish  to  discourse,  exciting  appetite,  not  creating  disgust,  &c. 


SERMON  XrV. 


Ml 


Especially  this  scurrilous  and  scoffing  way  is  then  most  detest- 
able, when  it  not  only  exposes  the  blemishes  and  infirmities  of 
men,  but  abuses  piety  and  virtue  themselves  :  which  practice 
tends  in  the  highest  degree  to  the  disparagement  and  discourage- 
ment of  goodness  ;  growing  proportionally  more  criminal  as  it 
presumes  to  attack  persons  eminent  in  dignity  or  worth.  In  i 
fine,  no  jesting  is  allowable  which  is  not  thoroughly  innocent;  ) 
and  it  is  strange  that  any  men  should  from  so  mean  and  silly  a 
practice  as  that  of  foolish  jesting  expect  commendation,  or  that 
others  should  bestow  it.  Neither  is  it  an  argument  of  consi- 
derable ability  in  him  that  happens  to  please  by  this  way  :  a 
slender  faculty  will  serve  the  turn,  &c.  3.  Consideration  of 
facetiousness  in  obscene  matters  may  well  be  omitted.  Such 
things,  as  St.  Paul  says,  are  not  so  much  as  to  be  named  among 
Christians.  4.  All  unseasonable  jesting  is  blameable.  As 
there  are  proper  seasons  of  relaxation,  so  there  are  some  times 
and  circumstances  of  things  when  it  becomes  us  to  be  serious  in 
mind,  grave  in  demeanor,  and  plain  in  discourse  ;  as  in  the  pre- 
sence of  superiors,  and  especially  in  the  performance  of  sacred 
offices.  In  deliberations  and  debates  about  affairs  of  great  im- 
portance, the  simple  is  the  proper  manner  of  speaking,  since 
facetious  speech  there  serves  only  to  obstruct  business,  lose  time, 
and  protract  the  result.  It  is  improper  to  be  facetious  with 
those  who  are  in  a  sad  or  afflicted  condition  ;  also  with  those 
who  desire  to  be  serious,  and  like  not  the  humor.  5.  To 
affect,  admire,  or  highly  value  this  way  of  speaking,  and  thence 
to  be  drawn  into  an  immoderate  use  of  it,  is  blameable.  The 
proper  object  of  man,  the  grand  drift  of  human  life,  is  to  follow 
reason,  that  noble  spark  kindled  in  us  from  heaven  ;  not  to 
sooth  fancy,  that  shallow  and  giddy  power,  which  is  able  to  per- 
form nothing  worthy  of  much  regard.  In  particular,  to  do  so 
is  unworthy  of  a  Christian,  who  is  advanced  to  so  high  a  rank 
and  to  such  glorious  relations :  this  point  enlarged  on.  6. 
Vain-glorious  ostentation  in  this  way  is  very  blameable.  All 


348 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  XIV. 


ambition  and  all  vanity,  on  whatever  ground  they  may  be 
founded,  are  unreasonable  and  silly  :  but  yet  when  founded  on 
some  real  ability,  or  some  useful  skill,  are  wise  and  manly  in 
comparison  with  this,  which  stands  on  a  foundation  manifestly 
slight  and  weak.  7.  In  thelastplace.it  is  our  duty  never  so 
far  to  engage  ourselves  in  this  way  as  thereby  to  lose  or  impair 
that  habitual  seriousness,  modesty,  and  sobriety  of  mind,  which 
become  Christians,  who  should  always  keep  their  souls  intent 
on  their  high  calling  and  grand  interests.  Concluding  exhorta- 
tions. 


AGAINST  FOOLISH  TALKING  AND  JESTING. 


:3  4*J 


SERMON  XIV. 

AGAINST  FOOLISH  TALKING  AND  JESTING 


EPHESIANS,  CHAP.  V. — VERSE  4. 

—  Nor  foolish  talking,  nor  jesting,  which  are  not  convenient. 

Moral  and  political  aphorisms  are  seldom  couched  in  such 
terms,  that  they  should  be  taken  as  they  sound  precisely,  or 
according  to  the  widest  extent  of  signification ;  but  do  com- 
monly need  exposition,  and  admit  exception  :  otherwise  fre- 
quently they  would  not  only  clash  with  reason  and  experience, 
but  interfere,  thwart,  and  supplant  one  another.  The  best 
masters  of  such  wisdom  are  wont  to  interdict  things,  apt  by  un- 
seasonable or  excessive  use  to  be  perverted,  in  general  forms 
of  speech,  leaving  the  restrictions,  which  the  case  may  require 
or  bear,  to  be  made  by  the  hearer's  or  interpreter's  discretion  : 
whence  many  seemingly  formal  prohibitions  are  to  be  received 
only  as  sober  cautions.  This  observation  may  be  particularly 
supposed  applicable  to  this  precept  of  St.  Paul,  which  seemeth 
universally  to  forbid  a  practice  commended  (in  some  cases  and 
degrees)  by  philosophers  as  virtuous,  not  disallowed  by  reason, 
commonly  affected  by  men,  often  used  by  wise  and  good  per- 
sons; from  which  consequently  if  our  religion  did  wholly  debar 
us,  it  would  seem  chargeable  with  somewhat  too  uncouth  aus- 
terity and  sourness :  from  imputations  of  which  kind  as  in  its 
temper  and  frame  it  is  really  most  free,  (it  never  quenching 
natural  light,  or  cancelling  the  dictates  of  sound  reason,  but 
confirming  and  improving  them ;)  so  it  carefully  declineth 
them,  enjoining  us,  that  'if  there  be  any  things'  wpoofi\ij, 


350 


BARROW. — SERMON  XIV. 


('  lovely,'  or  grateful  to  men,)  '  any  things'  ev<pr)fia,  ('  of  good 
report'  and  repute,)  '  if  there  be  any  virtue  and  any  praise,' 
(any  thing  in  the  common  apprehensions  of  men  held  worthy 
and  laudable,)  we  should  '  mind  those  things,'  that  is,  should 
yield  them  a  regard  answerable  to  the  esteem  they  carry  among 
rational  and  sober  persons. 

Whence  it  may  seem  requisite  so  to  interpret  and  determine 
St.  Paul's  meaning  here  concerning  evrpaTreXia,  (that  is,  face- 
tious speech  or  raillery,  by  our  translators  rendered  'jesting,') 
that  he  may  consist  wth  himself,  and  be  reconciled  to  Aristotle, 
who  placeth  this  practice  in  the  rank  of  virtues  ;  or  that  reli- 
gion and  reason  may  well  accord  in  the  case ;  supposing  that, 
if  there  be  any  kind  of  facetiousness  innocent  and  reasonable, 
conformable  to  good  manners,  (regulated  by  common  sense, 
and  consistent  with  the  tenor  of  Christian  duty,  that  is,  not 
transgressing  the  bounds  of  piety,  charity,  and  sobriety,)  St. 
Paul  did  not  intend  to  discountenance  or  prohibit  that  kind. 

For  thus  expounding  and  limiting  his  intent,  we  have  some 
warrant  from  himself,  some  fair  intimations  in  the  words  here. 
For,  first,  what  sort  of  facetious  speech  he  aimeth  at,  he  doth 
imply  by  the  fellow  he  coupleth  therewith  ;  fiupoXoyia,  saith  he, 
)*)  evrpaneXta,  *  foolish  talking,'  or  'facetiousness:'  such  fa- 
cetiousness therefore  he  toucheth  as  doth  include  folly,  in  the 
matter  or  manner  thereof.  Then  he  farther  determineth  it,  by 
adjoining  a  peculiar  quality  thereof,  unprofitableness  or  imper- 
ii uency;  ro  /iij  avriKovra,  'which  are  not  pertinent,'  or  condu- 
cive to  any  good  purpose :  whence  may  be  collected,  that  it 
is  a  frivolous  and  idle  sort  of  facetiousness  which  he  con- 
demneth. 

But,  however,  manifest  it  is  that  some  kind  thereof  he  doth 
earnestly  forbid  :  whence,  in  order  to  the  guidance  of  our  prac- 
tice, it  is  needful  to  distinguish  the  kinds,  severing  that  which 
is  allowable  from  that  which  is  unlawful ;  that  so  we  may 
be  satisfied  in  the  case,  and  not  on  the  one  hand  ignorantly 
transgress  our  duty,  nor  on  the  other  trouble  ourselves  with 
scruples,  others  with  censures,  on  the  use  of  warrantable  liberty 
therein. 

And  such  a  resolution  seemeth  indeed  especially  needful  in 
this  our  age,  (this  pleasant  and  jocular  age,)  which  is  so  infi- 


AGAINST  FOOLISH  TALKING  AND  JESTING. 


351 


nitely  addicted  to  this  sort  of  speaking,  that  it  scarce  doth 
affect  or  prize  any  thing  near  so  much  ;  all  reputation  appear- 
ing now  to  veil  and  stoop  to  that  of  being  a  wit:  to  be  learned, 
to  be  wise,  to  be  good,  are  nothing  in  comparison  thereto ; 
even  to  be  noble  and  rich  are  inferior  things,  and  afford  no 
such  glory.  Many  at  least,  to  purchase  this  glory,  to  be 
deemed  considerable  in  this  faculty,  and  enrolled  among  the 
wits,  do  not  only  '  make  shipwreck  of  conscience,'  abandon 
virtue,  and  forfeit  all  pretences  to  wisdom  ;  but  neglect  their 
estates,  and  prostitute  their  honor  :  so  to  the  private  damage 
of  many  particular  persons,  and  with  no  small  prejudice  to  the 
public,  are  our  times  possessed  and  transported  with  this  humor. 
To  repress  the  excess  and  extravagance  whereof,  nothing  in 
way  of  discourse  can  serve  better  than  a  plain  declaration 
when  and  how  such  a  practice  is  allowable  or  tolerable  ;  when 
it  is  wicked  and  vain,  unworthy  of  a  man  endued  with  reason, 
and  pretending  to  honesty  or  honor. 

This  I  shall  in  some  measure  endeavor  to  perform. 

But,  first,  it  may  be  demanded  what  the  thing  we  speak  of 
is,  or  what  this  facetiousness  doth  import  ?  To  which  question 
1  might  reply  as  Democritus  did  to  him  that  asked  the  definition 
of  a  man,  '  It  is  that  which  we  all  see  and  know:'  any  one 
better  apprehends  what  it  is  by  acquaintance,  than  I  can  in- 
form him  by  description.  It  is  indeed  a  thing  so  versatile  and 
multiform,  appearing  in  so  many  shapes,  so  many  postures,  so 
many  garbs,  so  variously  apprehended  by  several  eyes  and 
judgments,  that  it  seemeth  no  less  hard  to  settle  a  clear  and 
certain  notion  thereof,  than  to  make  a  portrait  of  Proteus,  or 
to  define  the  figure  of  the  fleeting  air.  Sometimes  it  lieth  in 
pat  allusion  to  a  known  story,  or  in  seasonable  application  of 
a  trivial  saying,  or  in  forging  an  apposite  tale  :  sometimes  it 
playeth  in  words  and  phrases,  taking  advantage  from  the  am- 
biguity of  their  sense,  or  the  affinity  of  their  sound  :  sometimes 
it  is  wrapped  in  a  dress  of  humorous  expression  :  sometimes  it 
lurketh  under  an  odd  similitude  :  sometimes  it  is  lodged  in  a 
sly  question,  in  a  smart  answer,  in  a  quirkish  reason,  in  a 
shrewd  intimation,  in  cunningly  diverting,  or  cleverly  retorting 
an  objection  :  sometimes  it  is  couched  in  a  bold  scheme  of 


362 


BARROW.— SERMON  XIV. 


speech,  in  a  tart  irony,  in  a  lusty  hyperbole,  in  a  startling  me- 
taphor, in  a  plausible  reconciling  of  contradictions,  or  in  acute 
nonsense :  sometimes  a  scenical  representation  of  persons  or 
things,  a  counterfeit  speech,  a  mimical  look  or  gesture  passeth 
for  it :  sometimes  an  affected  simplicity,  sometimes  a  presump- 
tuous bluntness  giveth  it  being:  sometimes  it  riseth  from  a 
lucky  hitting  on  what  is  strange,  sometimes  from  a  crafty 
wresting  obvious  matter  to  the  purpose  :  often  it  consisteth  in 
one  knows  not  what,  and  springeth  up  one  can  hardly  tell 
how.  Its  ways  are  unaccountable  and  inexplicable,  being 
answerable  to  the  numberless  rovings  of  fancy  and  windings  of 
language.  It  is,  in  short,  a  manner  of  speaking  out  of  the 
simple  and  plain  way,  (such  as  reason  teacheth  and  proveth 
things  by,)  which  by  a  pretty  surprising  uncouthness  in  conceit 
or  expression  doth  affect  and  amuse  the  fancy,  stirring  in  it 
some  wonder,  and  breeding  some  delight  thereto.  It  raiseth 
admiration,  as  signifying  a  nimble  sagacity  of  apprehension,  a 
special  felicity  of  invention,  a  vivacity  of  spirit,  and  reach  of 
wit  more  than  vulgar  :  it  seeming  to  argue  a  rare  quickness  of 
parts,  that  one  can  fetch  in  remote  conceits  applicable  ;  a  no- 
table skill,  that  he  can  dexterously  accommodate  them  to  the 
purpose  before  him  ;  together  with  a  lively  briskness  of  humor, 
not  apt  to  damp  those  sportful  flashes  of  imagination. 
(Whence  in  Aristotle*  such  persons  are  termed  ewtbeiiot, 
dexterous  men ;  and  evrpoiroi,  men  of  facile  or  versatile  man- 
ners, who  can  easily  turn  themselves  to  all  things,  or  turn  all 
things  to  themselves.)  It  also  procureth  delight,  by  gratifying 
curiosity  with  its  rareness  or  semblance  of  difficulty  ;  (as  mon- 
sters, not  for  their  beauty,  but  their  rarity  ;  as  juggling  tricks, 
not  for  their  use,  but  their  abstruseness,  are  beheld  with  plea- 
sure ;)  by  diverting  the  mind  from  its  road  of  serious  thoughts; 
by  instilling  gaiety  and  airiness  of  spirit ;  by  provoking  to  such 
dispositions  of  spirit  in  way  of  emulation  or  complaisance  ;  and 
by  seasoning  matters,  otherwise  distasteful  or  insipid,  with  an 
unusual,  and  thence  grateful  tang. 

But  saying  no  more  concerning  what  it  is,  and  leaving  it  to 
your  imagination  and  experience  to  supply  the  defect  of  such 


*  Eth.  iv.  8. 


AGAINST  FOOLISH  TALKING  AND  JESTING.  353 


explication,  I  shall  address  myself  to  show,  first,  when  and 
how  such  a  manner  of  speaking  maybe  allowed;  then,  in  what 
matters  and  ways  it  should  be  condemned. 

I.  Such  facetiousness  is  not  absolutely  unreasonable  or  un- 
lawful, which  ministereth  harmless  divertisement  and  delight 
to  conversation :  (harmless,  I  say,  that  is,  not  intrenching  on 
piety,  not  infringing  charity  or  justice,  not  disturbing  peace.) 
For  Christianity  is  not  so  tetrical,  so  harsh,  so  envious,  as  to  bar 
us  continually  from  innocent,  much  less  from  wholesome  and 
useful  pleasure,  such  as  human  life  doth  need  or  require.  And 
if  jocular  discourse  may  serve  to  good  purposes  of  this  kind  ; 
if  it  may  be  apt  to  raise  our  drooping  spirits,  to  allay  our  irk- 
some cares,  to  whet  our  blunted  industry,  to  recreate  our  minds 
being  tired  and  cloyed  with  graver  occupations;  if  it  may 
breed  alacrity,  or  maintain  good  humor  among  us ;  if  it  may 
conduce  to  sweeten  conversation  and  endear  society ;  then  is 
it  not  inconvenient  or  unprofitable.  If  for  those  ends  we  may 
use  other  recreations,  employing  on  them  our  ears  and  eyes, 
our  hands  and  feet,  our  other  instruments  of  sense  and  motion  ; 
why  may  we  not  as  well  to  them  accommodate  our  organs  of 
speech  and  interior  sense  ?  Why  should  those  games  which 
excite  our  wits  and  fancies  be  less  reasonable,  than  those 
whereby  our  grosser  parts  and  faculties  are  exercised  ?  Yea, 
why  are  not  those  more  reasonable,  since  they  are  performed 
in  a  manly  way,  and  have  in  them  a  smack  of  reason  ;  seeing 
also  they  may  be  so  managed,  as  not  only  to  divert  and  please, 
but  to  improve  and  profit  the  mind,  rousing  and  quickening  it, 
yea,  sometimes  enlightening  and  instructing  it,  by  good  sense 
conveyed  in  jocular  expression? 

It  would  surely  be  hard,  that  we  should  be  tied  ever  to  knit 
the  brow  and  squeeze  the  brain,  (to  be  always  sadly  dumpish, 
or  seriously  pensive,)  that  all  divertisement  of  mirth  and  plea- 
santness should  be  shut  out  of  conversation  :  and  how  can  we 
better  relieve  our  minds,  or  relax  our  thoughts,  how  can  we  be 
more  ingeniously  cheerful,  in  what  more  kindly  way  can  we 
exhilarate  ourselves  and  others,  than  by  thus  '  sacrificing  to 
the  graces,'  as  the  ancients  called  it  ?  Are  not  some  persons 
always,  and  all  persons  sometimes,  uncapable  otherwise  to 
divert  themselves  than  by  such  discourse  ?    Shall  we,  I  say, 


s:4 


BARROW. — SERMON"  XIV. 


have  no  recreation  ?  or  must  our  recreations  be  ever  clownish 
or  childish,  consisting  merely  in  rustical  efforts,  or  in  petty 
sleights  of  bodily  strength  and  activity  ?  Were  we,  in  fine, 
obliged  ever  to  talk  like  philosophers,  assigning  dry  reasons 
for  every  thing,  and  dropping  grave  sentences  on  all  occasions, 
would  it  not  much  deaden  human  life,  and  make  ordinary  con- 
versation exceedingly  to  languish  ?  Facetiousness  therefore  in 
such  cases,  and  to  such  purposes,  may  be  allowable. 

2.  Facetiousness  is  allowable  when  it  is  the  most  proper 
instrument  of  exposing  things  apparently  base  and  vile  to  due 
contempt.  It  is  many  times  expedient  that  things  really  ridi- 
culous should  appear  such,  that  they  may  be  sufficiently  loathed 
and  shunned  ;  and  to  render  them  such  is  the  part  of  a  face- 
tious wit,  and  usually  can  only  be  compassed  thereby.  AVhen 
to  impugn  them  with  downright  reason,  or  to  check  them  by 
serious  discourse,  would  signify  nothing;  then  representing 
them  in  a  shape  strangely  ugly  to  the  fancy,  and  thereby  rais- 
ing derision  at  them,  may  effectually  discountenance  them. 
Thus  did  the  prophet  Elias  expose  the  wicked  superstition  of 
those  who  worshipped  Baal :  •  Elias,'  saith  the  text,  '  mocked 
them,  and  said,  Cry  aloud  :  for  he  is  a  god  ;  either  he  is  talk- 
ing, or  he  is  pursuing,  or  he  is  in  a  journey,  or  peradventure  he 
sleepeth,  and  must  be  awaked.'  By  which  one  pregnant  in- 
stance it  appeareth,  that  reasoning  pleasantly  abusive  in  some 
cases  may  be  useful.  The  holy  Scripture  doth  not  indeed  use 
it  frequently ;  (it  not  suiting  the  divine  simplicity  and  stately 
gravity  thereof  to  do  so;)  yet  its  condescension  thereto  at  any 
time  sufficiently  doth  authorise  a  cautious  use  thereof.  hen 
sarcastical  twitches  are  needful  to  pierce  the  thick  skins  of 
men,  to  correct  their  lethargic  stupidity,  to  rouse  them  out  of 
their  drowsy  negligence ;  then  may  they  well  be  applied  : 
when  plain  declarations  will  not  enlighten  people,  to  discern 
the  cruth  and  weight  of  things,  and  blunt  arguments  will  not 
penetrate  to  convince  or  persuade  them  to  their  duty ;  then 
doth  reason  freely  resign  its  place  to  wit,  allowing  it  to  under- 
take its  work  of  instruction  and  reproof. 

3.  Facetious  discourse  particularly  may  be  commodious  for 
reproving  some  vices  and  reclaiming  some  persons  ;  (as  salt  for 
cleansing  and  curing  some  sores.)    It  commonly  procureth  a 


AGAINST  FOOLISH  TALKING  AND  JESTING.  3.3"> 


more  easy  access  to  the  ears  of  men,  and  worketh  a  stronger 
impression  on  their  hearts,  than  other  discourse  could  do. 
Many  who  will  not  stand  a  direct  reproof,  and  cannot  abide 
to  be  plainly  admonished  of  their  fault,  will  yet  indure  to  be 
pleasantly  rubbed,  and  will  patiently  bear  a  jocund  wipe; 
though  they  abominatdBall  language  purely  bitter  or  sour,  yet 
they  can  relish  discourse  having  in  it  a  pleasant  tartness  :  you 
must  not  chide  them  as  their  master,  but  you  may  gibe  with 
them  as  their  companion  :  if  you  do  that,  they  will  take  you 
for  pragmatical  and  haughty  ;  this  they  may  interpret  friend- 
ship and  freedom.  Most  men  are  of  that  temper  ;  and  parti- 
cularly the  genius  of  divers  persons,  whose  opinions  and  prac- 
tices we  should  strive  to  correct,  doth  require  not  a  grave  and 
severe,  but  a  free  and  merry  way  of  treating  them.  For  what 
can  be  more  unsuitable  and  unpromising,  than  to  seem  serious 
with  those  who  are  not  so  themselves,  or  demure  with  the 
scornful  ?  If  we  design  either  to  please  or  vex  them  into 
better  manners,  we  must  be  as  sportful  in  a  manner,  or  as  con- 
temptuous as  themselves.  If  we  mean  to  be  heard  by  them, 
we  must  talk  in  their  own  fashion,  with  humor  and  jollity:  if 
we  will  instruct  them,  we  must  withal  somewhat  divert  them  : 
we  must  seem  to  play  with  them,  if  we  think  to  convey  any 
sober  thoughts  into  them.  They  scorn  to  be  formally  advised 
or  taught;  but  they  may  perhaps  be  slily  laughed  and  lured 
into  a  better  mind.  If  by  such  complaisance  we  can  inveigle 
those  dotterels  to  hearken  to  us,  we  may  induce  them  to  con- 
sider farther,  and  give  reason  some  competent  scope,  some  fair 
play  with  them.  Good  reason  may  be  apparelled  in  the  garb 
of  wit,  and  therein  will  securely  pass,  whither  in  its  native 
homeliness  it  could  never  arrive  :  and  being  come  thither,  it 
with  especial  advantage  may  impress  good  advice ;  making  an 
offender  more  clearly  to  see,  and  more  deeply  to  feel  his  mis- 
carriage ;  being  represented  to  his  fancy  in  a  strain  somewhat 
rare  and  remarkable,  yet  not  so  fierce  and  frightful.  The 
severity  of  reproof  is  tempered,  and  the  reprover's  anger  dis- 
guised thereby.  The  guilty  person  cannot  but  observe  that 
he  who  thus  reprehends  him  is  not  disturbed  or  out  of  humor, 
and  that  he  rather  pitieth  than  hateth  him  ;  which  breedeth  a 
veneration  to  him,  and  imparteth  no  small  efficacy  to  his  whole- 


356 


BARROW. — SERMON  XIV. 


some  suggestions.  Such  a  reprehension,  while  it  forceth  a 
smile  without,  doth  work  remorse  within ;  while  it  seemeth  to 
tickle  the  ear,  doth  sting  the  heart.  In  line,  many  whose  tore- 
heads  are  brazed  and  hearts  steeled  against  all  blame,  are  yet 
not  of  proof  against  derision  ;  divers,  who  never  will  be  rea- 
soned, may  be  rallied  into  better  ord©:  in  which  cases  rail- 
lery, as  an  instrument  of  so  important  good,  as  a  servant  of 
the  best  charity,  may  be  allowed. 

4.  Some  errors  likewise  in  this  way  may  be  most  properly 
and  most  successfully  confuted  ;  such  as  deserve  not,  and 
hardly  can  bear  a  serious  and  solid  confutation.  He  that  will 
contest  things  apparently  decided  by  sense  and  experience,  or 
who  disavows  clear  principles  of  reason,  approved  by  general 
consent,  and  the  common  sense  of  men,  what  other  hopeful  way 
is  there  of  proceeding  with  him  than  pleasantly  to  explode  his 
conceits  ?  To  dispute  seriously  with  him  were  trifling ;  to 
trifle  with  him  is  the  proper  course  :  since  he  rejecteth  the 
grounds  of  reasoning,  it  is  vain  to  be  in  earnest :  what  then 
remains  but  to  jest  with  him?  To  deal  seriously  were  to 
yield  too  much  respect  to  such  a  barrier,  and  too  much  weight 
to  his  fancies ;  to  raise  the  man  too  high  in  his  courage  and 
conceit ;  to  make  his  pretences  seem  worthy  the  considering 
and  canvassing.  Briefly,  perverse  obstinacy  is  more  easily 
quelled,  petulant  impudence  is  sooner  dashed,  sophistical  cap- 
tiousness  is  more  safely  eluded,  sceptical  wantonness  is  more 
surely  confounded  in  this,  than  in  the  simple  way  of  discourse. 

j.  This  way  is  also  commonly  the  best  way  of  defence  against 
unjust  reproach  and  obloquy.  To  yield  to  a  slanderous  reviler 
a  serious  reply,  or  to  make  a  formal  plea  against  his  charge, 
doth  seem  to  imply  that  we  much  consider  or  deeply  resent  it  ; 
whereas  by  pleasant  reflexion  on  it  we  signify,  the  matter  only 
deserves  contempt,  and  that  we  take  ourselves  unconcerned 
therein.  So  easily  without  care  or  trouble  may  the  brunts  of 
malice  be  declined  or  repelled. 

6.  This  way  may  be  allowed  in  way  of  counterbalancing  and 
in  compliance  to  the  fashion  of  others.  It  would  be  a  disad- 
vantage unto  truth  and  virtue,  if  their  defenders  were  barred 
from  the  use  of  this  weapon  ;  since  it  is  that  especially  whereby 
the  patrons  of  error  and  vice  do  maintain  and  propagate  them. 


AGAINST  FOOLISH  TALKING  AND  JESTING.  357 


Thev  beins  destitute  of  good  reason,  do  usually  recommend 
their  absurd  and  pestilent  notions  by  a  pleasantness  of  conceit 
and  expression,  bewitching  the  fancies  of  shallow  hearers,  and 
inveislins:  heedless  persons  to  a  liking  of  them  :  and  if,  for  re- 
claiming such  people,  the  folly  of  those  seducers  may  in  like 
manner  be  displayed  as  ridiculous  and  odious,  why  should  that 
advantase  be  refused  ?  It  is  wit  that  wageth  the  war  against 
reason,  against  virtue,  against  religion  ;  wit  alone  it  is  that  per- 
verteth  so  manv.  and  so  greatly  corrupteth  the  world ;  it  may 
therefore  be  needful,  in  our  warfare  for  those  dearest  concerns, 
to  sort  the  manner  of  our  fighting  with  that  of  our  adversaries, 
and  with  the  same  kind  of  arms  to  protect  goodness,  whereby 
thev  do  assail  it.  If  wit  may  happily  serve  under  the  banner  of 
truth  and  virtue,  we  may  impress  it  for  that  service ;  and  good 
it  were  to  rescue  so  worthy  a  faculty  from  so  vile  abuse.  It 
is  the  right  of  reason  and  piety  to  command  that  and  all  other 
endowments;  folly  and  impiety  do  only  usurp  them  :  just  and 
fit  therefore  it  is  to  wrest  them  out  of  so  bad  hands  to  revoke 
them  to  their  right  use  and  duty. 

It  doth  especially  seem  requisite  to  do  it  in  this  age,  wherein 
plain  reason  is  deemed  a  dull  and  heavy  thing.  When  the 
mental  appetite  of  men  is  become  like  the  corporeal,  and  can- 
sot  relish  anv  food  without  some  piquant  sauce,  so  that  people 
will  rather  starve  than  live  on  solid  fare  :  when  substantial  and 
sound  discourse  findeth  small  attention  or  acceptance  :  in  such 
a  time,  he  that  can.  may  in  complaisance,  and  for  fashion's 
sake,  vouchsafe  to  be  facetious:  an  ingenious  vein  coupled  with 
an  honest  mind  may  be  a  good  talent :  he  shall  employ  wit 
commendably  who  by  it  can  further  the  interests  of  goodness, 
alluring  men  first  to  listen,  then  inducing  them  to  consent  unto 
its  wholesome  dictates  and  precepts. 

Since  men  are  so  irreclaimably  disposed  to  mirth  and  laughter, 
it  may  be  well  to  set  them  in  the  right  pin.  to  divert  their  humor 
into  the  proper  channel,  that  they  may  please  themselves  in  de- 
riding things  which  deserve  it.  ceasing  to  laugh  at  that  which 
requireth  reverence  or  horror. 

It  may  also  be  expedient  to  put  the  world  out  of  conceit, 
that  all  sober  and  good  men  are  a  sort  of  such  lumpish  or  sour 
people,  that  they  can  utter  nothing  but  flat  and  drowsy  stuff; 


oo3 


BARROW.— SERMON  XIV. 


by  showing  them  that  such  persons,  when  they  see  cause,  in 
condescension,  can  be  as  brisk  and  smart  as  themselves;  when 
they  please  can  speak  pleasantly  and  wittily  as  well  as  gravely 
and  judiciously.  This  way  at  least,  in  respect  to  the  various 
palates  of  men,  may  for  variety  sake  be  sometimes  attempted, 
when  other  means  do  fail :  when  many  strict  and  subtile  argu- 
ings,  many  zealous  declamations,  many  wholesome  serious  dis- 
courses have  been  spent,  without  effecting  the  extirpation  of 
bad  principles,  or  conversion  of  those  who  abet  them ;  this 
course  may  be  tried,  and  some  perhaps  may  be  reclaimed 
thereby. 

7.  Farthermore,  the  warrantableness  of  this  practice  in  some 
cases  may  be  inferred  from  a  parity  of  reason,  in  this  manner  : 
if  it  be  lawful,  (as  by  the  best  authorities  it  plainly  doth  appear 
to  be,)  in  using  rhetorical  schemes,  poetical  strains,  involutions 
of  sense  in  allegories,  fables,  parables,  and  riddles,  to  discoast 
from  the  plain  and  simple  way  of  speech  ;  why  may  not  face- 
tiousness,  issuing  from  the  same  principles,  directed  to  the  same 
ends,  serving  to  like  purposes,  be  likewise  used  blamelessly  ?  If 
those  exorbitancies  of  speech  may  be  accommodated  to  instil  good 
doctrine  into  the  head,  to  excite  good  passions  in  the  heart,  to 
illustrate  and  adorn  the  truth,  in  a  delightful  and  taking  way ; 
and  facetious  discourse  be  sometime  notoriously  conducible  to 
the  same  ends  ;  why,  they  being  retained,  should  it  be  rejected  ? 
especially  considering  how  difficult  often  it  may  be  to  distin- 
guish those  forms  of  discourse  from  this,  or  exactly  to  define  the 
limits  which  sever  rhetoric  and  raillery.  Some  elegant  figures 
and  tropes  of  rhetoric  (biting  sarcasms,  sly  ironies,  strong  me- 
taphors, lofty  hyperboles,  paronomasies,  oxymorons,  and  the 
like,  frequently  used  by  the  best  speakers,  and  not  seldom  even 
by  sacred  writers)  do  lie  very  near  on  the  confines  of  jocularity, 
and  are  not  easily  differenced  from  those  sallies  of  wit  wherein 
the  lepid  way  doth  consist :  so  that  were  this  wholly  culpable, 
it  would  be  matter  of  scruple  whether  one  hath  committed  a 
fault  or  no,  when  he  meant  only  to  play  the  orator,  or  the 
poet;  and  hard  surely  it  would  be  to  find  a  judge  who  could 
precisely  set  out  the  difference  between  a  jest  and  a  flourish. 

8.  I  shall  only  add,  that  of  old  even  the  sagest  and  gravest 
persons  (persons  of  mostrigid  and  severe  virtue)  did  much  affect 


AGAINST  FOOLISH  TALKING  AND  JESTING. 


359 


this  kind  of  discourse,  and  did  apply  it  to  noble  purposes.  The 
great  introducer  of  moral  wisdom  among  the  pagans  did  prac- 
tise it  so  "much,  (by  it  repressing  the  windy  pride  and  fallacious 
vanity  of  sophisters  in  his  time,)  that  he  thereby  got  the  name 
of  6  eipaiy,  '  the  droll :'  and  the  rest  of  those  who  pursued  his 
design,  do  by  numberless  stories  and  apophthegms  recorded  of 
them,  appear  well  skilled,  and  much  delighted  in  this  way. 
Many  great  princes,  (as  Augustus  Caesar  for  one,  many  of  whose 
jests  are  extant  in  Macrobius,)  many  grave  statesmen,  (as 
Cicero  particularly,  who  composed  several  books  of  jests,)  many 
famous  captains,  (as  Fabius,  M.  Cato  the  Censor,  Scipio  Afri- 
canus,  Epaminondas,  Themistocles,  Phocion,  and  many  others, 
whose  witty  sayings,  together  with  their  martial  exploits,  are 
reported  by  historians,)  have  pleased  themselves  herein,  and 
made  it  a  condiment  of  their  weighty  businesses.  So  that 
practising  thus,  within  certain  rule  and  compass,  we  cannot  err 
without  great  patterns  and  mighty  patrons.* 

9.  In  fine,  since  it  cannot  be  shown  that  such  a  sportfulness 
of  wit  and  fancy  doth  contain  an  intrinsic  and  inseparable  tur- 
pitude ;  since  it  may  be  so  cleanly,  handsomely,  and  innocently 
used,  as  not  to  defile  or  discompose  the  mind  of  the  speaker, 
not  to  wrong  or  harm  the  hearer,  not  to  derogate  from  any 
worthy  subject  of  discourse,  not  to  infringe  decency,  to  disturb 
peace,  to  violate  any  of  the  grand  duties  incumbent  on  us, 
(piety,  charity,  justice,  sobriety,)  but  rather  sometimes  may 
yield  advantage  in  those  respects;  it  cannot  well  absolutely  and 
universally  be  condemned ;  and  when  not  used  on  improper 
matter,  in  an  unfit  manner,  with  excessive  measure,  at  undue 
season,  to  evil  purpose,  it  maybe  allowed.  It  is  bad  objects, 
or  bad  adjuncts,  which  do  spoil  its  indifference  and  innocence  : 
it  is  the  abuse  thereof,  to  which  (as  all  pleasant  things  are 
dangerous,  and  apt  to  degenerate  into  baits  of  intemperance 
and  excess)  it  is  very  liable,  that  corrupteth  it;  and  seemeth  to 
be  the  ground  why  in  so  general  terms  it  is  prohibited  by  the 

*  The  two  greatest  men  and  gravest  divines  of  their  time,  (S. 
Greg.  Naz.  and  S.  Basil.)  could  entertain  one  another  with  facetious 
epistles.  Greg.  Naz.  Ep.  vii.  ad  Basil.  2v  aKwitTt  koX  Sidavpe,  &c. 
Et  Ep.  viii. 


360 


BARROW. — SERMON"  XIV. 


Apostle.  Which  prohibition  to  what  cases,  or  what  sorts  of 
jesting  it  extendeth,  we  come  now  to  declare. 

II.  1.  All  profane  jesting,  all  speaking  loosely  and  wan- 
tonly about  holy  things,  (things  nearly  related  to  God  and 
religion,)  making  such  things  the  matters  of  sport  and  mockery, 
playing  and  trifling  with  them,  is  certainly  prohibited,  as  an 
intolerably  vain  and  wicked  practice.  It  is  an  infallible  sign 
of  a  vain  and  light  spirit,  which  considereth  little,  and  cannot 
distinguish  things,  to  talk  slightly  concerning  persons  of  high 
dignity,  to  whom  especial  respect  is  due  ;  or  about  matters  of 
great  importance,  which  deserve  very  serious  consideration. 
Xo  man  speaketh,  or  should  speak,  of  his  prince  that  which 
he  hath  not  weighed,  whether  it  will  consist  with  that  vene- 
ration which  should  be  preserved  inviolate  to  him  :  and  is  not 
the  same,  is  not  much  greater  care  to  be  used  in  regard  to  the 
incomparably  great  and  glorious  Majesty  of  heaven  ?  Yes, 
surely:  as  we  should  not  without  great  awe  think  of  him;  so 
we  should  not  presume  to  mention  his  name,  his  word,  his 
institutions,  any  thing  immediately  belonging  to  him,  without 
profoundest  reverence  and  dread.  It  is  the  most  enormous 
sauciness  that  can  be  imagined,  to  speak  petulantly  or  pertly 
concerning  him  :  especially  considering,  that  whatever  we  do 
say  about  him,  we  do  utter  it  in  his  presence,  and  to  his  very 
face.  '  For  there  is  not,'  as  the  holy  psalmist  considered,  '  a 
word  in  my  tongue,  but  lo,  O  Lord,  thou  knowest  it  altogether.' 
No  man  also  hath  the  heart  to  droll,  or  thinks  raillery  con- 
venient in  cases  nearly  touching  his  life,  his  health,  his  estate, 
or  his  fame  :  and  are  the  true  life  and  health  of  our  soul,  are 
interest  in  God's  favor  and  mercy,  are  everlasting  glory  and 
bliss,  affairs  of  less  moment  ?  Are  the  treasures  and  joys  of 
paradise,  or  the  damages  and  torments  in  hell  more  jesting 
matters  ?  Xo  certainly,  no ;  in  all  reason  therefore  it  becometh 
us,  and  it  infinitely  concerneth  us,  whenever  we  think  of  these 
things,  to  be  in  best  earnest,  always  to  speak  of  them  in  most 
sober  sadness. 

The  proper  objects  of  common  mirth  and  sportful  divertise- 
ment  are  mean  and  petty  matters  ;  any  thing  at  least  is  by 
playing  therewith  made  such :  great  things  are  thereby  dimi- 


AGAINST  FOOLISH  TALKING  AND  JESTING.  361 


nished  and  debased;  especially  sacred  things  do  grievously 
surfer  thence,  being  with  extreme  indecency  and  indignity 
depressed  beneath  themselves,  when  they  become  the  subjects 
of  flashy  wit,  or  the  entertainments  of  frothy  merriment :  to 
sacrifice  their  honor  to  our  vain  pleasure,  being  like  the  ridi- 
culous fondness  of  that  people,  which,  as  iElian  reporteth, 
worshipping  a  fly,  did  offer  up  an  ox  thereto.  These  things 
were  by  God  instituted,  and  proposed  to  us  for  purposes  quite 
different ;  to  compose  our  hearts,  and  settle  our  fancies  in  a 
most  serious  frame;  to  breed  inward  satisfaction,  and  joy 
purely  spiritual  ;  to  exercise  our  most  solemn  thoughts,  and 
employ  our  gravest  discourses :  all  our  speech  therefore  about 
them  should  be  wholesome,  apt  to  afford  good  instruction, 
or  to  excite  good  affections;  'good,'  as  St.  Paul  speaketh, 
'  for  the  use  of  edifying,  that  it  may  minister  grace  unto  the 
hearers.' 

If  we  must  be  facetious  and  merry,  the  field  is  wide  and 
spacious  ;  there  are  matters  enough  in  the  world  beside  these 
most  august  and  dreadful  things,  to  try  our  faculties  and 
please  our  humor  with  ;  every  where  light  and  ludicrous  things 
occur  :  it  therefore  doth  argue  a  marvellous  poverty  of  wit,  and 
barrenness  of  invention,  no  less  than  a  strange  defect  of  good- 
ness and  want  of  discretion,  in  those  who  can  devise  no  other 
subjects  to  frolic  on  beside  these,  of  all  most  improper  and 
perilous  ;  who  cannot  seem  ingenious  under  the  charge  of  so 
highly  trespassing  on  decency,  disclaiming  wisdom,  wounding 
the  ears  of  others,  and  their  own  consciences.  Seem  ingenious, 
I  say  ;  for  seldom  those  persons  really  are  such,  or  are  capable 
to  discover  any  wit  in  a  wise  and  manly  way.  It  is  not  the 
excellency  of  their  fancies,  which  in  themselves  usually  are 
sorry  and  insipid  enough,  but  the  uncouthness  of  their  pre- 
sumption ;  not  their  extraordinary  wit,  but  their  prodigious 
rashness,  which  is  to  be  admired.  They  are  gazed  on,  as  the 
doers  of  bold  tricks,  who  dare  perform  that  which  no  sober 
man  will  attempt :  they  do  indeed  rather  deserve  themselves  to 
be  laughed  at,  than  their  conceits.  For  what  can  be  more 
ridiculous  than  we  do  make  ourselves,  when  we  thus  fiddle 
and  fool  with  our  own  souls  ;  when,  to  make  vain  people  merry, 
we  incense  God's  earnest  displeasure ;  when,  to  raise  a  fit  of 

BAR.  VOL.  I.  Q 


362 


BARROW. — SERMON  XIV. 


present  laughter,  we  expose  ourselves  to  endless  wailing  and 
woe ;  when,  to  be  reckoned  wits,  we  prove  ourselves  stark 
wild  ?  Surely  to  this  case  we  may  accommodate  that  of  a  truly 
great  wit,  King  Solomon  ;  '  I  said  of  laughter,  It  is  mad;  and 
of  mirth,  What  doeth  it  ?' 

2.  All  injurious,  abusive,  scurrilous  jesting,  which  cause- 
lessly or  needlessly  tendeth  to  the  disgrace,  damage,  vexation, 
or  prejudice  in  any  kind  of  our  neighbor,  (provoking  his  dis- 
pleasure, grating  on  his  modesty,  stirring  passion  in  him,)  is 
also  prohibited.  When  men,  to  raise  an  admiration  of  their 
wit,  to  please  themselves,  or  gratify  the  humor  of  other  men, 
do  expose  their  neighbor  to  scorn  and  contempt,  making  igno- 
minious reflexions  on  his  person  or  his  actions,  taunting  his 
real  imperfections,  or  fastening  imaginary  ones  on  him,  they 
transgress  their  duty,  and  abuse  their  wits;  it  is  not  urbanity, 
or  genuine  facetiousness,  but  uncivil  rudeness,  or  vile  malig- 
nity. To  do  thus,  as  it  is  the  office  of  mean  and  base  spirits, 
unfit  for  any  worthy  or  weighty  employments,  so  it  is  full  of 
inhumanity,  of  iniquity,  of  indecency  and  folly.  For  the 
weaknesses  of  men,  of  what  kind  soever,  (natural  or  moral,  in 
quality  or  in  act,)  considering  whence  they  spring,  and  how 
much  we  are  all  subject  to  them,  and  do  need  excuse  for  them, 
do  in  equity  challenge  compassion  to  be  had  of  them;  not 
complacency  to  be  taken  in  them,  or  mirth  drawn  from  them  ; 
they,  in  respect  to  common  humanity,  should  rather  be  stu- 
diously connived  at  and  concealed,  or  mildly  excused,  than 
wilfully  laid  open,  and  wantonly  descanted  on  ;  they  rather 
are  to  be  deplored  secretly  than  openly  derided. 

The  reputation  of  men  is  too  noble  a  sacrifice  to  be  offered 
up  to  vain  glory,  fond  pleasure,  or  ill  humor;  it  is  a  good  far 
more  dear  and  precious,  than  to  be  prostituted  for  idle  sport 
and  divertisement.  It  becometh  us  not  to  trifle  with  that, 
w  hich  in  common  estimation  is  of  so  great  moment ;  to  play 
rudely  with  a  thing  so  very  brittle,  yet  of  so  vast  pi  ice  ;  which 
being ;once  broken  or  cracked,  it  is  very  hard,  and  scarce  possi- 
ble, to  repair.  A  small  transient  pleasure,  a  tickling  the  ears, 
wagging  the  luugs,  forming  the  face  into  a  smile,  a  sriggle,  or  a 
hum,  are  not  to  be  purchased  with  the  grievous  distaste  and 
smart,  perhaps  with  the  real  damage  and  mischief  of  our  neigh- 


AGAINST  FOOLISH  TALKING  AND  JESTING.  303 

bor,  which  attend  on  contempt.*  This  is  not  jesting  surely, 
but  bad  earnest :  it  is  wild  mirth,  which  is  the  mother  of  grief 
to  those  whom  we  should  tenderly  love  ;  it  is  unnatural  sport, 
which  breedeth  displeasure  in  them  whose  delight  it  should 
promote,  whose  liking  it  should  procure:  it  crosseth  the  nature 
and  design  of  this  way  of  speaking ;  which  is  to  cement  and 
ingratiate  society,  to  render  conversation  pleasant  and  sprightly, 
for  mutual  satisfaction  and  comfort. 

True  festivity  is  called  '  salt;'  and  such  it  should  be,  giving 
a  smart,  but  savory  relish  to  discourse;  exciting  an  appetite, 
not  irritating  disgust ;  cleansing  sometime,  but  never  creating 
sore  :  and,  lav  fjwpavdij,  '  if  it  become  thus  insipid,'  or  unsavory, 
'  it  is  thenceforth  good  for  nothing,  but  to  be  cast  out,  and 
trodden  under  foot  of  men.'  Such  jesting  which  cloth  not 
season  wholesome  or  harmless  discourse,  but  giveth  a  haut-gout 
to  putid  and  poisonous  stuff,  gratifying  distempered  palates  and 
corrupt  stomachs,  is  indeed  odious  and  despicable  folly,  '  to  be 
cast  out'  with  loathing,  'to  be  trodden  under  foot'  with  con- 
tempt. If  a  man  offends  in  this  sort  to  please  himself,  it  is 
scurvy  malignity  ;  if  to  delight  others,  it  is  base  servility  and 
flattery :  on  the  first  score  he  is  a  buffoon  to  himself ;  on  the 
last,  a  fool  to  others.  And  well  in  common  speech  are  such 
practisers  so  termed,  the  grounds  of  that  practice  being  so  vain, 
and  the  effect  so  unhappy.  '  The  heart  of  fools,'  saith  the  wise 
man, '  is  in  the  house  of  mirth ;'  meaning,  it  seems,  especially  such 
hurtfully-wauton  mirth :  for  it  is,  as  he  farther  tells  us,  the 
property  of  fools  to  delight  in  doing  harm  :  '  It  is  a  sport  to  a 
fool  to  do  mischief.'    -fls  it  not  in  earnest  most  palpable  folly 

*  Prov.  xxvi.  18.  19.  As  a  mad  man,  who  casteth  fire-l>rands,  ar- 
rows, and  death;  so  is  the  man  that  deceiveth  his  neighbor,  and 
saith,  Am  not  I  in  sport? 

Oi  iffSpevovTfS  tovs  <ptAovs — -LXX. 
t  Fools  make  a  mock  of  sin. — Prov.  xiv.  9. 
Potius  amicum  quara  dictum  perdidi. 

 dummodo  risum 

Excutiat  sibi,  non  hie  cuiquam  parret  amico. — Hor.  Sat  i.  4. 

 dicax  idem,  et  1'iberium  acerbis  facetiis  ir  rid  ere  so- 

litus,  quarum  apud  praepotentes  in  longum  memoria  est. — Tac.  v. 
Ann.  p.  184. 


364 


BARROW. — SERMON  XIV. 


for  so  mean  ends  to  do  so  great  harm  ;  to  disoblige  men  in 
sport ;  to  lose  friends,  and  get  enemies,  for  a  conceit ;  out  of  a 
light  humor  to  provoke  fierce  wrath,  and  breed  tough  hatred  ; 
to  engage  oneself  consequently  very  far  in  strife,  danger,  and 
trouble  ?  No  way  certainly  is  more  apt  to  produce  such  effects 
than  this  ;  nothing  more  speedily  inflameth,  or  more  thoroughly 
engageth  men,  or  sticketh  longer  in  men's  hearts  and  memories, 
than  bitter  taunts  and  scoffs  :  whence  this  honey  soon  turns 
into  gall ;  these  jolly  comedies  do  commonly  terminate  in 
woful  tragedies. 

Especially  this  scurrilous  and  scoffing  way  is  then  most  de- 
testable, when  it  not  only  exposeth  the  blemishes  and  infirmi- 
ties of  men,  but  abuseth  piety  and  virtue  themselves  ;  flouting 
persons  for  their  constancy  in  devotion,  or  their  strict  adhe- 
rence to  a  conscientious  practice  of  duty  ;  aiming  to  effect  that 
which  Job  complaineth  of,  '  the  just  upright  man  is  laughed  to 
scorn  ;'  resembling  those  whom  the  psalmist  thus  describeth, 
'  who  whet  their  tongue  like  a  sword,  and  bend  their  arrows, 
even  bitter  words,  that  they  may  shoot  in  secret  at  the  perfect ;' 
serving  good  men  as  Jeremy  was  served,  '  The  word  of  the 
Lord,'  saith  he,  '  was  made  a  reproach  unto  me,  and  a  derision 
daily.' 

This  practice  doth  evidently  in  the  highest  degree  tend  to 
the  disparagement  and  discouragement  of  goodness ;  aiming  to 
expose  it,  and  to  render  men  ashamed  thereof ;  and  it  mani- 
festly proceedeth  from  a  desperate  corruption  of  mind,  from  a 
mind  hardened  and  emboldened,  sold  and  enslaved  to  wicked- 
ness :  whence  they  who  deal  therein  are  in  holy  Scripture  re- 
presented as  egregious  sinners,  or  persons  superlatively  wicked, 
under  the  name  of  scorne7s  ;  (\otftniis,  pests,  or  pestilent  men, 
the  Greek  translators  call  them,  properly  enough  in  regard  to 
the  effects  of  their  practice  ;)  concerning  whom  the  wise  man, 
signifying  how  God  will  meet  with  them  in  their  own  way, 
saith,  '  Surely  the  Lord  scorneth  the  scorners.'  'Efurakras,  scof- 
fers, (or  mockers,)  St.  Peter  termeth  them,  '  who  walk  accord- 
in"-  to  their  own  lusts ;'  who  not  being  willing  to  practise,  are 
ready  to  deride  virtue ;  thereby  striving  to  seduce  others  into 
their  pernicious  courses. 

This  offence  also  proportionably  groweth  more  criminal,  as 


AGAINST  FOOLISH  TALKING  AND  JESTING. 


335 


it  presumeth  to  reach  persons  eminent  in  dignity  or  worth,  unto 
whom  special  veneration  is  appropriate.  This  adjoineth  sauci- 
ness  to  scurrility,  and  advanceth  the  wrong  thereof  into  a  kind 
of  sacrilege.  It  is  not  only  injustice,  but  profaneness,  to  '  abuse 
the  gods.'*  Their  station  is  a  sanctuary  from  all  irreverence 
and  reproach  ;  they  are  seated  on  high,  that  we  may  only  look 
up  to  them  with  respect;  their  defects  are  not  to  be  seen,  or 
not  to  be  touched  by  malicious  or  wanton  wits,  by  spiteful  or 
scornful  tongues  :  the  diminution  of  their  credit  is  a  public 
mischief,  and  the  state  itself  doth  suffer  in  their  becoming  ob- 
jects of  scorn  ;  not  only  themselves  are  vilified  and  degraded, 
but  the  great  affairs  they  manage  are  obstructed,  the  justice 
they  administer  is  disparaged  thereby. 

In  fine  no  jesting  is  allowable,  which  is  not  throughly  inno- 
cent :  it  is  an  unworthy  perverting  of  wit,  to  employ  it  in  bit- 
ing and  scratching;  in  working  prejudice  to  any  man's  reputa- 
tion or  interest ;  in  needlessly  incensing  any  man's  anger  or 
sorrow ;  in  raising  animosities,  dissensions,  and  feuds  among 
any. 

Whence  it  is  somewhat  strange  that  any  men  from  so  mean 
and  silly  a  practice  should  expect  commendation,  or  that  any 
should  afford  regard  thereto ;  the  which  it  is  so  far  from  merit- 
ing, that  indeed  contempt  and  abhorrence  are  due  to  it.  Men 
do  truly  more  render  themselves  despicable  than  others,  when, 
without  just  ground  or  reasonable  occasion,  they  do  attack 
others  in  this  way.  That  such  a  practice  doth  ever  find  any 
encouragement  or  acceptance,  whence  can  it  proceed,  but 
from  the  bad  nature  and  small  judgment  of  some  persons  ?  For 
to  any  man  who  is  endued  with  any  sense  of  goodness,  and 
hath  a  competence  of  true  wit,  or  a  right  knowlege  of  good 
manners,  (who  knows — inurbanum  lepido  seponere  dido,)  it 
cannot  but  be  unsavory  and  loathsome.  The  repute  it  obtain- 
eth  is  in  all  respects  unjust.  So  would  it  appear,  not  only 
were  the  cause  to  be  decided  in  the  court  of  morality,  because 
it  consists  not  with  virtue  and  wisdom  ;  but  even  before  any 

*  Tl6pf><o  Si  toDto  Xpiariavov,  rb  KafiifSuv. — Chrys.  in  Epb.  Or.  17. 
Ykuaaav  ?xeu,  ol>x  Iva  frepov  Kwfiw5ri<Tris,  a\\'  tva  (vxaptar^aris  t£  Oef. — 
Idem. 


366 


BARROW. — SERMON  XIV. 


competent  judges  of  wit  itself.  For  he  overthrows  his  own 
pretence,  and  cannot  reasonably  claim  any  interest  in  wit,  who 
doth  thus  behave  himself:  he  prejudgeth  himself  to  want  wit, 
who  cannot  descry  fit  matter  to  divert  himself  or  others  :  he 
discovereth  a  great  straitness  and  sterility  of  good  invention, 
who  cannot  in  all  the  wide  field  of  things  find  better  subjects 
of  discourse  ;  who  knows  not  how  to  be  ingenious  within  rea- 
sonable compass,  but  to  pick  up  a  sorry  conceit  is  forced  to 
make  excursions  beyond  the  bounds  of  honesty  and  decency. 

Neither  is  it  any  argument  of  considerable  ability  in  him 
that  haps  to  please  this  way  :  a  slender  faculty  will  serve  the 
turn.  The  sharpness  of  his  speech  cometh  not  from  wit  so 
much  as  from  choler,  which  furnisheth  the  lowest  inventions 
with  a  kind  of  pungent  expression,  and  giveth  an  edge  to  every 
spiteful  word  :*  so  that  any  dull  wretch  doth  seem  to  scold 
eloquently  and  ingeniously.  Commonly  also  satirical  taunts 
do  owe  their  seeming  piquancy,  not  to  the  speaker  or  his  words, 
but  to  the  subject  and  the  hearers ;  the  matter  conspiring  with 
the  bad  nature  or  the  vanity  of  men,  who  love  to  laugh  at  any 
rate,  and  to  be  pleased  at  the  expense  of  other  men's  repute ; 
conceiting  themselves  extolled  by  the  depression  of  their  neigh- 
bor, and  hoping  to  gain  by  his  loss.  Such  customers  they 
are  that  maintain  the  bitter  wits,  who  otherwise  would  want 
trade,  and  might  go  a-begging.  For  commonly  they  who  seem 
to  excel  this  way  are  miserably  flat  in  other  discourse,  and  most 
dully  serious:  they  have  a  particular  unaptness  to  describe  any 
good  thing,  or  commend  any  worthy  person ;  being  destitute 
of  right  ideas,  and  proper  terms  answerable  to  such  purposes  : 
their  representations  of  that  kind  are  absurd  and  unhandsome ; 
their  elogies  (to  use  their  own  way  of  speaking)  are  in  effect 
satires,  and  they  can  hardly  more  abuse  a  man  than  by  at- 
tempting to  commend  him  ;  like  those  in  the  prophet,  who 
were  1  wise  to  do  ill,  but  to  do  well  had  no  knowlege.' 

3.  I  pass  by  that  it  is  very  culpable  to  be  facetious  in 
obscene  and  smutty  matters.    Such  things  are  not  to  be  dis- 

*  Obtrectatio  ct  livor  prouis  auribus  accipiuntur:  quippe  adula- 
tioni  fuedum  crimen  servitutis,  malignitali  falsa  species  libertatis 
inest. — Tac.  Hist.  i.  inil. 


AGAINST  FOOLISH  TALKING  AND  JESTING. 


coursed  on  either  in  jest  or  in  earnest ;  they  must  not,  as  St. 
Paul  saith,  be  '  so  much  as  named  among  Christians  :'  to  med- 
dle with  them  is  not  to  disport,  but  to  defile  oneself  and 
others.  There  is  indeed  no  more  certain  sign  of  a  mind  utterly 
debauched  from  piety  and  virtue,  than  affecting  such  talk. 
But  farther, 

4.  All  unseasonable  jesting  is  blameable.  As  there  are  some 
proper  seasons  of  relaxation,  when  we  may  desipere  in  loco  ; 
so  are  there  some  times  and  circumstances  of  things,  wherein  it 
concerneth  and  becometh  men  to  be  serious  in  mind,  grave  in 
demeanor,  and  plain  in  discourse  ;  when  to  sport  in  this  way 
is  to  do  indecently,  or  uncivilly,  to  be  impertinent,  or  trouble- 
some.* 

It  comporteth  not  well  with  the  presence  of  superiors, 
before  whom  it  becometh  us  to  be  composed  and  modest :  much 
Jess  with  the  performance  of  sacred  offices,  which  require  an 
earnest  attention,  and  most  serious  frame  of  mind. 

In  deliberations  and  debates  about  affairs  of  great  import- 
ance, the  simple  manner  of  speaking  to  the  point  is  the  proper, 
easy,  clear,  and  compendious  way  :  facetious  speech  there 
serves  only  to  obstruct  and  entangle  business,  to  lose  time,  and 
protract  the  result,  f  The  shop  and  exchange  will  scarce  en- 
dure jesting  in  their  lower  transactions :  the  senate,  the  court 
of  justice,  the  church  do  much  more  exclude  it  from  their  more 
weighty  consultations.  Whenever  it  justleth  out,  or  hindereth 
the  dispatch  of  other  serious  business,  taking  up  the  room  or 
swallowing  the  time  due  to  it,  or  indisposing  the  minds  of  the 
audience  to  attend  it,  then  it  is  unseasonable  and  pestilent. 
Tlatieiv,  tva  cnovbacrjs,l  '  to  play,  that  we  may  be  seriously 
busy,'  is  the  good  rule  of  Anacharsis,  implying  the  subordina- 
tion of  sport  to  business,  as  a  condiment  and  furtherance,  not 
an  impediment  or  clog  thereto.  He  that  for  his  sport  neglects 
his  business,  deserves  indeed  to  be  reckoned  among  children  ; 

*  Vitandum  ne  petulans,  ue  superbum,  ne  loco,  ne  tempori  alie- 
num,  ne  prajparatum  et  domo  allatum  videatur. — Quint, 
t  Mi)  not  to  K6fi<fi',  aKK'  av  TroAei  Se?. — Eurip.  Arist.  Pol.  ii.  4. 
t  Aiist.  Eth.  x.  6. 


BARROW. — SERMON  XIV. 


and  children's  fortune  will  attend  him,  to  be  pleased  with  toys, 
and  to  fail  of  substantial  profit. 

It  is,  again,  improper  (because  indeed  uncivil  and  inhuman) 
to  jest  with  persons  that  are  in  a  sad  or  afflicted  condition  ;*  as 
arguing  want  of  due  considering  or  due  commiserating  their 
case :  it  appears  a  kind  of  insulting  on  their  misfortune,  and  is 
apt  to  foment  their  grief.  Even  in  our  own  case,  on  any  dis- 
astrous occurrence  to  ourselves,  it  would  not  be  seemly  to 
frolic  it  thus;  it  would  signify  want  of  due  regard  to  the 
frowns  of  God  and  the  strokes  of  his  hand  ;  it  would  cross  the 
wise  man's  advice,  '  In  the  day  of  prosperity  be  joyful,  but  in 
the  day  of  adversity  consider.' 

It  is  also  not  seasonable,  or  civil,  to  be  jocund  in  this  way 
with  those  who  desire  to  be  serious,  and  like  not  the  humor. 
Jocularity  should  not  be  forcibly  obtruded,  but  by  a  kindly 
conspiracy,  or  tacit  compact,  slip  into  conversation  :  consent  and 
complaisance  give  all  the  life  thereto.  Its  design  is  to  sweeten 
and  ease  society ;  when  to  the  contrary  it  breedeth  offence  or 
incumbrance,  it  is  worse  than  vain  and  unprofitable.  From 
these  instances  we  may  collect  when  in  other  like  cases  it  is 
unseasonable,  and  therefore  culpable.  Farther, 

5.  To  affect,  admire,  or  highly  to  value  this  way  of  speak- 
ing, either  absolutely  in  itself,  or  in  comparison  to  the  serious 
and  plain  way  of  speech,  and  thence  to  be  drawn  into  an  im- 
moderate use  thereof,  is  blameable.  A  man  of  ripe  age  and 
sound  judgment,  for  refreshment  to  himself,  or  in  complaisance 
to  others,  may  sometimes  condescend  to  play  in  this  or  in  any 
other  harmless  way  :  but  to  be  fond  of  it,  to  prosecute  it  with 
a  careful  or  painful  eagerness,  to  doat  and  dwell  on  it,  to 
reckon  it  a  brave  or  a  fine  thing,  a  singular  matter  of  commen- 
dation, a  transcendent  accomplishment,  anywise  preferable  to 
rational  endowments,  or  comparable  to  the  moral  excellencies 
of  our  mind,  (to  solid  knowlege,  or  sound  wisdom,  or  true 
virtue  and  goodness,)  this  is  extremely  childish,  or  brutish,  and 
far  below  a  man.  What  can  be  more  absurd  than  to  make  a 
business  of  play,  to  be  studious  and  laborious  in  toys,  to  make 

*  Adversus  miseros  inbumanus  est  jocus. — Quint. 


AGAINST  FOOLISH  TALKING  AND  JESTING. 


360 


a  profession  or  drive  a  trade  of  impertinency  ?*  what  more 
plain  nonsense  can  there  be  than  to  be  earnest  in  jest,  to  be 
continual  in  divertisement,  or  constant  in  pastime  ;  to  make  ex- 
travagance all  our  way,  and  sauce  all  our  diet?  Is  not  this 
plainly  the  life  of  a  child,  that  is  ever  busy,  yet  never  hath  any 
thing  to  do  ?  or  the  life  of  that  mimical  brute,  which  is  always 
active  in  playing  uncouth  and  unlucky  tricks  ;  which,  could  it 
speak,  might  surely  pass  well  for  a  professed  wit  ? 

The  proper  work  of  man,  the  grand  drift  of  human  life,  is  to 
follow  reason,  (that  noble  spark  kindled  in  us  from  heaven ; 
that  princely  and  powerful  faculty,  which  is  able  to  reach  so 
lofty  objects,  and  to  achieve  so  mighty  works ;)  not  to  sooth 
fancy,  that  brutish,  shallow,  and  giddy  power,  able  to  perform 
nothing  worthy  much  regard.  '  We  are  not,'  even  Cicero 
could  tell  us,  '  born  for  play  and  jesting;  but  for  severity,  and 
the  study  of  graver  and  greater  affairs.'f  Yes,  we  were  pur- 
posely designed,  and  fitly  framed,  to  understand  and  contem- 
plate, to  affect  and  delight  in,  to  undertake  and  pursue  most 
noble  and  worthy  things  ;  to  be  employed  in  business  conside- 
rably profitable  to  ourselves,  and  beneficial  to  others  :  we  do 
therefore  strangely  debase  ourselves,  when  we  do  strongly  bend 
our  minds  to,  or  set  our  affections  on  such  toys. 

Especially  to  do  so  is  unworthy  of  a  Christian  ;  that  is  of  a 
person  who  is  advanced  to  so  high  a  rank,  and  so  glorious  re- 
lations ;  who  hath  so  excellent  objects  of  his  mind  and  affec- 
tions presented  before  him,  and  so  excellent  rewards  for  his  care 
and  pains  proposed  to  him  ;  who  is  engaged  in  affairs  of  so 
worthy  nature,  and  so  immense  consequence  :  for  him  to  be 
zealous  about  quibbles,  for  him  to  be  ravished  with  puny  con- 
ceits and  expressions,  it  is  a  wondrous  oversight,  and  an  enor- 
mous indecency. 

He  indeed  that  prefers  any  faculty  to  reason,  disclaims  the 
privilege  of  being  a  man,  and  understands  not  the  worth  of  his 
own  nature ;  he  that  prizes  any  quality  beyond  virtue  and 

*  STouScifeif  Kai  iroveiv  iroiSiSj  X°-PiV>  falB'O"  "paiVerai,  koI  \lav  itoi5ik<Jv. — 
Arist.  Eth.  x.  6. 

t  Noque  enim  ita  generati  a  natura  sumus,  ut  ad  ludum  jocum- 
que  facti  vidcamur ;  sed  ad  severitatem  potius,  et  ad  quajdam  studia 
graviora  atque  majora. — Cic.  Off.  i. 


370 


BARROW.— SERMON  XIV. 


goodness,  renounces  the  title  of  a  Christian,  and  knows  not  how 
to  value  the  dignity  of  his  profession.  It  is  these  two,  reason 
and  virtue,  in  conjunction,  which  produce  all  that  is  consider- 
ably good  and  great  in  the  world.  Fancy  can  do  little  ;  doeth 
never  any  thing  well,  except  as  directed  and  wielded  by  them. 
Do  pretty  conceits  or  humorous  talk  carry  on  any  business,  or 
perform  any  work  ?  No ;  they  are  ineffectual  and  fruitless : 
often  they  disturb,  but  they  never  dispatch  any  thing  with  good 
success.  It  is  simple  reason,  as  dull  and  dry  as  it  seemeth, 
which  expediteth  all  the  grand  affairs,  which  accomplished  all 
the  mighty  works  that  we  see  done  in  the  world.  In  truth, 
therefore,  as  one  diamond  is  worth  numberless  bits  of  glass  ; 
so  one  solid  reason  is  worth  innumerable  fancies  :  one  grain  of 
true  science  and  sound  wisdom  in  real  worth  and  use  doth  out- 
weigh loads,  if  any  loads  can  be,  of  freakish  wit.  To  rate 
things  otherwise  doth  argue  great  weakness  of  judgment  and 
fondness  of  mind.  So  to  conceit  of  this  way  signirieth  a  weak 
mind ;  and  much  to  delight  therein  rendereth  it  so :  nothing 
more  debaseth  the  spirit  of  a  man,  or  more  rendereth  it  light 
and  trifling.* 

Hence  if  we  must  be  venting  pleasant  conceits,  we  should 
do  it  '  as  if  we  did  it  not,'  carelessly  and  unconcernedly  ;  not 
standing  on  it,  or  valuing  ourselves  for  it :  we  should  do  it  with 
measure  and  moderation  ;  not  giving  up  ourselves  thereto,  so 
as  to  mind  it,  or  delight  in  it  more  than  in  any  other  thing :  we 
should  not  be  so  intent  on  it  as  to  become  remiss  in  affairs  more 
proper  or  needful  for  us ;  so  as  to  nauseate  serious  business,  or 
disrelish  the  more  worthy  entertainments  of  our  minds.  This  is 
the  great  danger  of  it,  which  we  daily  see  men  to  incur  ;  they 
are  so  bewitched  with  a  humor  of  being  witty  themselves,  or  of 

*  'Hs  ij.tj  avp.&aivtiv  Kara  ravTTjf  tyvxys  vrjtyiv,  Kal  evrpaTreXlas  oiaxvffiv. — 

Bas.  Const.  Mon.  12. 

YluWovs  Gvpfitiivfi  tovs  TTfpl  Tct  roiavra  aaxoA-oujueVous.  tov  dp9ov  \6yvu  Sia- 
tiapTantv,  tt}S  if<i»x*)s  "'pks  7e^°'a  p*»  Siaxeo^eV^s,  «ai  rh  TTJS  <ppovi]<r(as  ovvvow 
Kal  ireiTVKVWixfVov  Ka.Ta\voi<n\s. — Ibid. 

Jocoruni  freqttens  usus  omne  animis  poudus,  omuemque  vim  eri- 
piet. — Sen.  de  Tranq.  c.  xv. 

H  eiiTpaire\ia  naKctKyv  xoiei  Ti)v  tpuxv",  p'aQvp.bv,  avaTrrxTWKvlav . — CllM'S. 

in  Epb.  17. 


AGAINST  FOOLISH  TALKING  ANfl  JESTING. 


87  I 


hearkening  to  the  fancies  of  others,  that  it  is  this  only  which 
they  can  like  or  savor,  which  they  can  endure  to  think  or  talk 
of.  It  is  a  great  pity,  that  men  who  would  seem  to  have  so 
much  wit,  should  so  little  undertand  themselves.    But  farther, 

6.  Vain-glorious  ostentation  this  f way  is  very  blarueable. 
All  ambition,  all  vanity,  all  conceitedness,  on  whatever  ground 
they  are  founded,  are  absolutely  unreasonable  and  silly  :  but 
yet  those,  being  grounded  on  some  real  ability,  or  some  useful 
skill,  are  wise  and  manly  in  comparison  to  this,  which  standeth 
on  a  foundation  so  manifestly  slight  and  weak.  The  old  phi- 
losophers by  a  severe  father*  were  called  animalia  gloria, 
'  animals  of  glory;'  and  by  a  satirical  poet  they  were  termed 
'  bladders  of  vanity  :'  but  they  at  least  did  catch  at  praise  from 
praiseworthy  knowlege;  they  were  puffed  up  with  a  wind 
which  blowed  some  good  to  mankind ;  they  sought  glory  from 
that  which  deserved  glory,  if  they  had  not  sought  it ;  it  was  a 
substantial  and  solid  credit  which  they  did  affect,  resulting 
from  successful  enterprises  of  strong  reason  and  stout  industry  : 
but  these  animalcula  gloria,  these  flies,  these  insects  of  glory, 
these,  not  bladders,  but  bubbles  of  vanity,  would  be  admired 
and  praised  for  that  which  is  nowise  admirable  or  laudable  ; 
for  the  casual  hits  and  emergencies  of  roving  fancy  ;  for  stum- 
bling on  an  odd  conceit  or  phrase,  which  signifieth  nothing,  and 
is  as  superficial  as  the  smile,  as  hollow  as  the  noise  it  causeth. 
Nothing  certainly  in  nature  is  more  ridiculous  than  a  self-con- 
ceited wit,  who  deemeth  himself  somebody,  and  greatly  pre- 
tendeth  to  commendation  from  so  pitiful  and  worthless  a  thing 
as  a  knack  of  trifling. 

7.  Lastly,  it  is  our  duty  never  so  far  to  engage  ourselves  in 
this  way,  as  thereby'to  lose  or  to  impair  that  habitual  serious- 
ness, modesty,  and  sobriety  of  mind,  that  steady  composedness, 
gravity  and  constancy  of  demeanour,  which  become  Christians. 
We  should  continually  keep  our  minds  intent  on  our  '  high 
calling,'  and  grand  interest;  ever  well  tuned,  and  ready  for 
the  performance  of  holy  devotions,  and  the  practice  of  most 
serious  duties  with  earnest  attention  and  fervent  affection  : 
wherefore  we  should  never  suffer  them  to  be  dissolved  into 
levity,  or  disordered  into  a  wanton  frame,  indisposing  us  for 

*  Terful. 


372 


BARROW. — SERMON  XIV. 


religious  thoughts  and  actions.  We  ought  always  in  our  beha- 
vior to  maintain  not  only  to  ■Kpeirov,  a  fitting  decency,  but 
also  -o  oepvbv,  a  stately  gravity,  a  kind  of  venerable  majesty, 
suitable  to  that  high  rank  which  we  bear  of  God's  friends  and 
children  ;  adorning  our  holy  profession,  and  guarding  us  from 
all  impressions  of  sinful  vanity.  Wherefore  we  should  not  let 
ourselves  be  transported  into  any  excessive  pitch  of  lightness, 
inconsistent  with,  or  prejudicial  to,  our  Christian  state  and 
business.  Gravity  and  modesty  are  the  fences  of  piety,  which 
being  once  slighted,  sin  will  easily  attempt  and  encroach  on  us. 
So  the  old  Spanish  gentleman  may  be  interpreted  to  have  been 
wise,  who,  when  his  son  on  a  voyage  to  the  Indies  took  his 
leave  of  him,  gave  him  this  odd  advice  ;  '  My  son,  in  the  first 
place  keep  thy  gravity,  in  the  next  place  fear  God  :'  intimat- 
ing that  a  man  must  first  be  serious  before  he  can  be  pious. 

To  conclude,  as  we  need  not  be  demure,  so  must  we  not  be 
impudent;  as  we  should  not  be  sour,  so  ought  we  not  to  be 
fond ;  as  we  may  be  free,  so  we  should  not  be  vain  ;  as  we 
may  well  stoop  to  friendly  complaisance,  so  we  should  take 
heed  of  falling  into  contemptible  levity.  If  without  wronging 
others,  or  derogating  from  ourselves,  we  can  be  facetious ;  if 
we  can  use  our  wits  in  jesting  innocently  and  conveniently  ;  we 
may  sometimes  do  it :  but  let  us,  in  compliance  with  St.  Paul's 
direction,  beware  of  '  foolish  talking  and  jesting,  which  are 
not  convenient.' 

'  Now  the  God  of  grace  and  peace  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. 


SERMON  XV. 


!73 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  XV. 

JAMES,  CHAP.  V. — VERSE  12. 

St.  James  does  not  in  this  text  mean  universally  to  inter- 
dict the  use  of  oaths,  which  are  in  some  cases  lawful  and  ex- 
pedient, nay  even  connected  with  our  duty ;  but  that  swearing 
which  our  Lord  expressly  prohibited  to  his  disciples,  which  is, 
needless  and  heedless  swearing  in  ordinary  conversation  ;  a 
practice  then  frequent  both  among  Jews  and  Gentiles,  and 
which,  to  the  shame  of  the  present  age,  is  in  fashion  also  among 
Christians.  From  such  a  practice  the  Apostle  dehorts  us  in 
terms  denoting  his  great  anxiety,  and  implying  the  matter  to  be 
of  the  highest  importance.  Some  considerations  on  this  head 
proposed  to  us. 

I.  The  nature  of  an  oath,  and  what  we  do  when  we  venture 
to  swear.  It  is,  as  expressed  in  the  Decalogue,  an  assuming 
the  name  of  our  God,  to  countenance  and  confirm  what  we  say. 
It  is  an  invocation  of  God  as  a  faithful  witness  of  the  truth  of 
our  words  or  the  sincerity  of  our  meaning.  It  is  an  appeal  to 
him  as  an  upright  judge.  It  is  a  formal  engagement  of  him  to 
be  the  avenger  of  the  violation  of  our  oath.  It  is  a  binding  of 
our  souls  solemnly  to  answer  before  God,  and  to  undergo  the 
issue  of  his  judgment  about  what  we  affirm  or  undertake. 

Hence  we  may  collect  that  swearing  requires  great  modesty 
and  composedness  of  spirit;  very  serious  consideration,  that  we 
be  not  rude  with  God,  in  taking  up  his  name  and  prostituting 
it  to  vile  or  mean  uses ;  that  we  do  not  abuse  or  debase  his 
authority,  &c.  for  we  should  reflect  and  consider  what  a  pre- 
sumpjtion  it  is,  without  due  regard  and  reverence  to  lay  hold  on 


374 


SUMMARY  OF 


God's  name  ;  how  grievously  indecent  it  is  at  every  turn  to 
summon  our  Maker  to  second  our  giddy  passions  ;  what  a  wild- 
ness  it  is  to  dally  with  that  judgment  on  which  the  eternal  doom 
of  all  creatures  depends  ;  how  prodigious  a  madness  it  is,  with- 
out any  constraint  or  needful  cause  to  incur  so  horrible  a  danger, 
and  to  defy  that  vengeance  which  can  thrust  us  down  to  end- 
less woe.  Even  a  heathen  philosopher,  considering  the  nature 
of  an  oath,  did  conclude  the  unlawfulness  of  it  on  slight  occa- 
sions. 

II.  We  may  consider  that  swearing,  agreeably  to  its  na- 
ture and  tendency,  is  represented  in  holy  Scripture  as  a  special 
part  of  religious  worship  ;  in  the  due  performance  of  which  we 
avow  God  for  the  governor  of  the  world,  piously  acknowlegins 
his  principal  attributes  and  special  prerogatives  :  it  also  inti- 
mates a  pious  trust  and  confidence  in  him.  God  in  goodness 
to  such  ends  has  pleased  to  lend  us  his  great  name ;  and  in 
many  exigences  he  exacts  this  practice  from  us,  as  an  instance 
of  our  religious  confidence  in  him,  and  as  a  service  conducive  to 
his  glory  :  this  therefore,  like  all  other  acts  of  devotion,  should 
never  be  performed  without  serious  consideration  and  lowly 
reverence.  If  we  do  presume  to  offer  this  service,  we  should  do 
it  in  the  manner  appointed  by  God  himself;  the  cause  of  it 
must  be  very  needful  or  expedient,  the  design  honest  and  use- 
ful ;  otherwise  we  desecrate  swearing,  and  are  guilty  of  profaning 
a  most  sacred  ordinance. 

III.  We  may  consider  that  the  swearing  prohibited  is  very 
noxious  to  human  society. 

The  great  prop  of  society  is  conscience,  or  a  sense  of  duty 
towards  God,  obliging  us  to  perform  what  is  right  and  equal, 
quickened  by  hope  of  rewards  and  fear  of  punishments  from 
him ;  without  which  principle  no  worldly  consideration  can  hold 
men  fast.  Instances  given  in  which,  for  the  public  interest, 
it  is  requisite  that  the  highest  obligations  possible  should  be 
laid  on  the  consciences  of  men  :  and  such  are  those  of  oaths. 


SERMON  XV. 


To  these  purposes  therefore  they  have  ever  been  applied ;  by 
them  nations  have  ratified  leagues,  princes  have  bound  their 
subjects  to  obedience,  and  generals  have  engaged  their  soldiers 
to  bear  hardships  and  dangers ;  by  them  the  nuptial  league  has 
been  confirmed,  and  on  them  the  decision  of  the  most  impor- 
tant causes  has  depended.  The  best  men  could  scarcely  ever 
trust  the  best  without  this  obligation.  Instances  quoted  from 
Scripture  :  these  declare  that  there  is  no  security  which  men 
can  yield  comparable  to  that  of  an  oath  ;  wherefore  human  so- 
ciety will  be  extremely  wronged  by  dissolving  or  slackening 
these  most  sacred  bonds  of  conscience,  and  consequently  by 
their  common  and  careless  use :  for  the  detriments  accruing  to 
the  public  from  this  abuse  every  vain  swearer  is  responsible  ; 
nor  will  he  ever  be  able  to  make  reparation  for  them. 

IV.  Let  us  consider  that  rash  and  vain  swearing  is  very  apt 
to  bring  the  practiser  of  it  into  the  most  horrible  sin  of  perjury. 
He  that  swears  at  random,  as  passion  moves  or  fancy  prompts, 
or  the  tempter  suggests,  will  often  assert  that  which  is  false,  or 
promise  that  which  is  impossible. 

V.  Such  swearing  commonly  will  induce  a  man  to  bind  him- 
self by  oath  to  unlawful  practices  :  instances  of  Saul  and 
Herod. 

VI.  It  will  also  frequently  engage  a  man  in  undertakings 
very  inconvenient  and  detrimental  to  himself ;  for  a  man  is 
bound  to  perform  his  vows  to  the  Lord,  whatever  damage  they 
may  cause  to  himself,  if  they  be  not  unlawful :  this  confirmed 
by  Scripture. 

VII.  Swearing  is  a  sin  of  all  others  peculiarly  clamorous, 
and  provocative  of  divine  judgment.  God  is  bound  in  honor 
to  vindicate  his  name  from  the  abuse,  his  authority  from  the 
contempt,  his  holy  ordinance  from  the  profanation  which  it 
infers. 

VIII.  Passing  over  the  special  laws  against  it,  the  mis- 
chievous  consequences  of  it,  and  the  sore  punishments  ap- 


370 


SUMMARY  OF 


pointed  to  it,  we  may  consider  that  to  common  sense  vain 
swearing  is  a  practice  very  ill  becoming  any  sober,  worthy, 
honest  person,  especially  a  Christian  :  this  point  enlarged  on, 
and  enforced  by  quotations  from  profane  and  sacred  writers. 

IX.  The  practice  of  swearing  greatly  disparages  him  that 
uses  it,  and  derogates  from  his  credit,  inasmuch  as  it  signifies 
that  he  does  not  confide  in  his  own  reputation  ;  by  it  he  au- 
thorises others  to  distrust  him  ;  it  renders  what  he  says  to  be 
in  reason  suspicious,  as  discovering  him  to  be  void  of  conscience 
and  discretion,  &c. 

X.  To  excuse  these  faults,  the  swearer  will  be  forced  to  con- 
fess that  his  oaths  are  no  more  than  waste  and  insignificant 
words  ;  deprecating  the  being  taken  for  serious,  or  to  be  under- 
stood that  he  means  any  thing  by  them. 

XI.  But  farther,  on  higher  accounts  this  is  a  very  uncivil 
and  unmannerly  practice  :  some  vain  persons  take  it  for  a  gen- 
teel and  graceful  accomplishment ;  but  in  truth  there  is  no 
practice  more  crossing  the  genuine  nature  of  gentility,  or  mis- 
becoming persons  well  born  and  well  bred :  this  topic  en- 
larged on. 

XII.  Moreover  the  words  of  our  Lord,  when  he  forbad  this 
practice,  suggest  another  consideration  against  it  deducible 
from  the  causes  and  sources  of  it:  let  your  communication, 
says  he,  be  yea,  yea  ;  nay,  nay  ;  for  whatsoever  is  more  than 
these  cometh  of  evil.  Consult  experience  then,  and  observe 
whence  it  proceeds :  sometimes  from  exorbitant  heats  of  spirit 
and  unbridled  passion ;  sometimes  from  arrogant  conceit  and 
a  tyrannical  humor ;  sometimes  from  wantonness  and  levity  of 
mind ;  sometimes  from  stupid  inadvertency  or  heedless  preci- 
pitancy ;  sometimes  from  profane  boldness,  or  from  apish  imi- 
tation ;  but  always  from  a  great  defect  of  conscience,  of  reve- 
rence to  God,  and  of  love  to  goodness. 

XIII.  Farther,  this  offence  may  be  aggravated  by  consider- 
ing that  it  hath  no  strong  temptation  alluring  to  it ;  that  it 


SERMON  XV. 


377 


gratifies  no  sense,  yields  no  profit,  procures  no  honor  :  the  vain 
swearer  has  not  the  common  plea  of  human  infirmity  to  excuse 
him. 

XIV.  Let  us  consider  that,  as  we  ourselves  with  all  our 
members  and  powers  were  chiefly  designed  and  made  to  glo- 
rify our  Maker,  which  is  our  greatest  privilege,  so  our  tongue 
and  speaking  faculty  were  given  us  to  declare  our  admiration 
and  reverence  of  him,  exhibit  our  love  and  gratitude  towards 
him,  to  profess  our  trust  in  him,  to  celebrate  his  praises  and 
avow  his  benefits  :  wherefore  to  apply  this  to  any  impious  dis- 
course, and  to  profane  his  holy  name,  is  an  unnatural  abuse  of 
it,  and  horrid  ingratitude  towards  him.  Likewise  a  secondary 
and  worthy  use  of  speech  is,  to  promote  the  good  of  our  neigh- 
bor, according  to  the  precept  of  the  Apostle,  Eph.  iv.  29.  but 
the  practice  of  vain  swearing  serves  to  corrupt  him,  and  instil 
into  him  a  contempt  of  religion. 

XV.  Lastly,  we  should  consider  two  things ;  first,  that  our 
blessed  Saviour,  who  did  and  suffered  so  much  for  us,  and  who 
said,  if  ye  love  me,  keep  my  commandments,  thus  positively  hath 
enjoined:  But  I  say  unto  you,  swear  not  at  all:  secondly, 
we  should  consider  well  the  reason  with  which  St.  James  en- 
forces the  point,  and  the  sting  in  the  close  of  the  text ;  but  above 
all  things,  my  brethren,  swear  not ;— lest  ye  fall  into  condem- 
nation. 


$78 


EARROW. — SERMON  XV. 


SERMON  XV. 

AGAINST  RASH  AND  VAIN  SWEARING. 


JAMES,  CHAP.  V.— VERSE  12. 

But  above  all  things,  my  brethren,  swear  not. 

Among  other  precepts  of  good  life  (directing  the  practice  of 
virtue  and  abstinence  from  sin)  St.  James  doth  insert  this  about 
swearing,  couched  in  expression  denoting  his  great  earnestness, 
and  apt  to  excite  our  special  attention.  Therein  he  doth  not 
mean  universally  to  interdict  the  use  of  oaths  ;  (for  that  in  some 
cases  is  not  only  lawful,  but  very  expedient,  yea  needful,  and 
required  from  us  as  a  duty  ;)  but  that  swearing  which  our  Lord 
had  expressly  prohibited  to  his  disciples,  and  which  thence, 
questionless,  the  '  brethren  '  to  whom  St.  James  did  write  did 
well  understand  themselves  obliged  to  forbear,  having  learnt  so 
hi  the  first  catechisms  of  Christian  institution  ;  that  is,  needless 
and  heedless  swearing  in  ordinary  conversation  :  a  practice  then 
frequented  in  the  world,  both  among  Jews  and  Gentiles ;  the 
which  also,  to  the  shame  of  our  age,  is  now  so  much  in  fashion, 
and  with  some  men  in  vogue ;  the  invoking  God's  name,  ap- 
pealing to  his  testimony,  and  provoking  his  judgment,  on  any 
slight  occasion,  in  common  talk,  with  vain  incogitancy,  or  pro- 
fane boldness.  From  such  practice  the  holy  Apostle  dehorteth 
in  terms  importing  his  great  concernedness,  and  implying  the 
matter  to  be  of  highest  importance  :  for,  irpo  iravrtov,  saith  he, 
'  before  all  things,  my  brethren,  do  not  swear  ;'  as  if  he  did 
apprehend  this  sin  of  all  other  to  be  one  of  the  most  heinous 
and  pernicious.  Could  he  have  said  more  ?  would  behave  said 
so  much,  if  he  had  not  conceived  the  matter  to  be  of  exceeding 


AGAINST  RASH  AND  VAIN  SWEARING. 


879 


weight  and  consequence  ?  And  that  it  is  so  I  mean  now,  by 
God's  help,  to  show  you,  by  proposing  some  considerations, 
whereby  the  heinous  wickedness,  together  with  the  monstrous 
folly,  of  such  rash  and  vain  swearing  will  appear  ;  the  which 
being  laid  to  heart  will,  I  hope,  effectually  dissuade  and  deter 
from  it. 

I.  Let  us  consider  the  nature  of  an  oath,  and  what  we  do 
when  we  adventure  to  swear. 

It  is  (as  it  is  phrased  in  the  Decalogue,  and  otherwhere 
in  holy  Scripture)  an  '  assuming  the  name  of  our  God,'  and 
applying  it  to  our  purpose,  to  countenance  and  confirm  what 
we  say.* 

It  is  an  invocation  of  God  as  a  most  faithful  witness,  con- 
cerning the  truth  of  our  words,  or  the  sincerity  of  our  meaning. 

It  is  an  appeal  to  God  as  a  most  upright  Judge,  whether 
we  do  prevaricate  in  asserting  what  we  do  not  believe  true,  or 
in  promising  what  we  are  not  firmly  resolved  to  perform. 

It  is  a  formal  engagement  of  God  to  be  the  Avenger  of  our 
trespassing  in  violation  of  truth  or  faith. 

It  is  a  '  binding  our  souls 'f  with  a  most  strict  and  solemn  ob- 
ligation, to  answer  before  God,  and  to  undergo  the  issue  of  his 
judgment  about  what  we  affirm  or  undertake. 

Such  an  oath  is  represented  to  us  in  holy  Scripture. 

Whence  we  may  collect  that  swearing  doth  require  great 
modesty  and  composedness  of  spirit,  very  serious  consideration 
and  solicitous  care  that  we  be  not  rude  and  saucy  with  God, 
'  in  taking  up  his  name,'  and  prostituting  it  to  vile  or  mean  uses  ; 
that  we  do  not  abuse  or  debase  his  authority,  by  citing  it  to 
aver  falsehoods  or  impertinences;  that  we  do  not  slight  his 
venerable  justice,  by  rashly  provoking  it  against  us;  that  we 
do  not  precipitantly  throw  our  souls  into  most  dangerous  snares 
and  intricacies. 

For,  let  us  reflect  and  consider :  what  a  presumption  is  it 
without  due  regard  and  reverence  to  lay  hold  on  God's  name  ; 
with  unhallowed  breath  to  vent  and  toss  that  great  and  glo- 

*  Plurima  firmantur  juiejurando  diis  immoitalibus  interposi- 

lis  turn  judicibus,  turn  testibus. — Cic.  de  Leg.  ii.  p.  326. 

t  Num.  XXX.  2.    n«s  iipKOS  fls  Kardpav  reAevra  tjjs  iTriopitlas. — Plllt.  in 

Capit.  Rom.  p.  491. 


360 


BARROW. — SERMON  XV. 


rious,  that  most  holy,  that  reverend,  that  fearful  and  ter- 
rible name  of  the  Lord  our  God,  the  great  Creator,  the 
mighty  Sovereign,  the  dreadful  Judge  of  all  the  world ;  that 
name  which  all  heaven  with  profoundest  submission  doth  adore, 
which  the  angelical  powers,  the  brightest  and  purest  seraphim, 
without  '  hiding  their  faces,'  and  reverential  horror,  cannot 
utter  or  hear ;  the  very  thought  whereof  should  strike  awe 
through  our  hearts,  the  mention  whereof  would  make  any  sober 
man  to  tremble  :  ttCh  yapovK  utottov,'  for  how,'  saith  St.  Chry- 
sostom,*  '  is  it  not  absurd  that  a  servant  should  not  dare  to  call 
his  master  by  name,  or  bluntly  and  ordinarily  to  mention  him  ; 
yet  that  we  slightly  and  contemptuously  should  in  our  mouth 
toss  about  the  Lord  of  angels  ?' 

'  How  is  it  not  absurd,  if  we  have  a  garment  better  than  the 
rest,  that  we  forbear  to  use  it  continually;  but  in  the  most  slight 
and  common  way  do  wear  the  name  of  God  ?' 

How  grievous  indecency  is  it,  at  every  turn  to  summon  our 
Maker,  and  call  down  Almighty  God  from  heaven  to  attend 
our  leisure,  to  vouch  our  idle  prattle,  to  second  our  giddy  pas- 
sions, to  concern  his  truth,  his  justice,  his  power  in  our  trivial 
affairs  ? 

What  a  wildness  is  it  to  dallywith  that  judgment  on  which 
the  eternal  doom  of  all  creatures  dependeth,  at  which  '  the  pil- 
lars of  heaven  are  astonished,'  which  hurled  down  legions  of 
angels  from  the  top  of  heaven  and  happiness  into  the  bottomless 
dungeon  ;  the  which,  as  grievous  sinners,  of  all  things  we  have 
most  reason  to  dread  ;  and  about  which  no  sober  man  can  other- 
wise think  than  did  that  great  king,  the  holy  psalmist,  who 
said,  '  My  flesh  trembleth  for  thee,  and  I  am  afraid  of  thy 
judgments  ?' 

How  prodigious  a  madness  is  it,  without  any  constraint  or 
needful  cause  to  incur  so  horrible  danger,  to  rush  on  a  curse  ; 
to  defy  that  vengeance,  the  least  touch  or  breath  whereof  can 
dash  us  to  nothing,  or  thrust  us  down  into  extreme  and  endless 
woe  ? 

Who  can  express  the  wretchedness  of  that  folly  which  so  en- 
tangleth  us  with  inextricable  knots,  and  inchaineth  our  souls 
so  rashly  with  desperate  obligations  ? 

*  Chrys.  'AvSp.  f.  p.  514. 


AGAINST  RASH  AND  VAIN  SWEARING.  381 


Wherefore  he  that  would  but  a  little  mind  what  he  doeth 
when  he  dareth  to  swear,  what  it  is  to  meddle  with  the  adora- 
ble name,  the  venerable  testimony,  the  formidable  judgment, 
the  terrible  vengeance  of  the  divine  Majesty,  into  what  a  case 
he  putteth  himself,  how  extreme  hazard  he  runneth  thereby, 
would  assuredly  have  little  heart  to  swear,  without  greatest 
reason  and  most  urgent  need  :  hardly  without  trembling  would 
he  undertake  the  most  necessary  and  solemn  oath  ;  much  cause 
would  he  see  aijieoOai  opuov,  to  adore,  to  fear  an  oath  :  which 
to  do  the  divine  preacher  makeththe  character  of  a  good  man  ; 
'  As,'  saith  he,  '  is  the  good,  so  is  the  sinner,  and  he  that 
sweareth,  as  he  that  feareth  an  oath.' 

In  fine,  even  a  heathen  philosopher,  considering  the  nature  of 
an  oath,  did  conclude  the  unlawfulness  thereof  in  such  cases. 
For,  '  seeing,'  saith  he, '  an  oath  doth  call  God  for  witness,  and 
proposeth  him  for  umpire  and  voucher  of  the  things  it  saith  ; 
therefore  to  induce  God  so  on  occasion  of  human  affairs,  or, 
which  is  all  one,  on  small  and  slight  accounts,  doth  imply  con- 
tempt of  him  :  wherefore  we  ought  wholly  to  shun  swearing,  ex- 
cept on  occasions  of  highest  necessity.'* 

II.  We  may  consider  that  swearing  (agreeably  to  its  nature, 
or  natural  aptitude  and  tendency)  is  represented  in  holy  Scrip- 
ture as  a  special  part  of  religious  worship,  or  devotion  toward 
God  ;  in  the  due  performance  whereof  we  do  avow  him  for  the 
true  God  and  Governor  of  the  world  :  we  piously  do  acknowlege 
his  principal  attributes  and  special  prerogatives  ;  (his  omnipre- 
sence and  omniscience,  extending  itself  to  our  most  inward 
thoughts,  our  secretest  purposes,  our  closest  retirements;  his 
watchful  providence  over  all  our  actions,  affairs,  and  concerns  ; 
his  faithful  goodness  in  favoring  truth  and  protecting  right;  his 
exact  justice,  in  patronising  sincerity,  and  chastising  perfidi- 
ousness  ;)  his  being  supreme  Lord  over  all  persons,  and  Judae 
paramount  in  all  causes;  his  readiness  in  our  need,  on  our  hum- 
ble imploration  and  reference,  to  undertake  the  arbitration  of 
matters  controverted,  and  the  care  of  administering  justice,  for 

*  'O  yap  Zpnos  ndprvpa  rbv  Qebv  Ka\e~,  Kol  nemr-riv  avrhv  «a!  eyyvrp-^v  e<f>' 
ois  \4yei  Trpatcrx*™-  T&  y^"  M  avepuir'ivois  -rpdy/iaai  (tsw1»  Si  eiVe^  ntKpoh 
KaX  €utcA(Vi)  rbv  ®ibv  irapdyeiv,  Kata<pp6vr)aiv  rwa  vpbs  aiirbv  VTroypdcpei-  Stb 
Xph  TapaneiirOat  -rbv  SpKov,  &c — Simpl.  in  Epict.  cap.  xliv. 


3K-2 


EAR  ROW. — SERMON  XV. 


the  maintenance  of  truth  and  right,  of  loyalty  and  fidelity, 
of  order  and  peace  among  men.  Swearing  doth  also  intimate  a 
pious  trust  and  confidence  in  God  ;  as  Aristotle  observeth.« 

Such  things  a  serious  oath  doth  imply,  to  such  purposes 
swearing  naturally  serveth  ;  and  therefore  to  signify  or  effec- 
tuate them,  divine  institution  hath  devoted  it. 

God  in  goodness  to  such  ends  hath  pleased  to  lend  us  his 
great  name ;  allowing  us  to  cite  him  for  a  witness,  to  have 
recourse  to  his  bar,  to  engage  his  justice  and  power,  whenever 
the  case  deserveth  and  requireth  it,  or  when  we  cannot  by  other 
means  well  assure  the  sincerity  of  our  meaning,  or  secure  the 
constancy  of  our  resolutions. 

Yea  in  such  exigencies  he  doth  exact  this  practice  from  us, 
as  an  instance  of  our  religious  confidence  in  him,  and  as  a 
service  conducible  to  his  glory  :  for  it  is  a  precept  in  his  law, 
of  moral  nature,  and  eternal  obligation,  '  Thou  shalt  fear  the 
Lord  thy  God  ;  him  shalt  thou  serve,  and  to  him  shalt  thou 
cleave,  and  shalt  swear  by  his  name.'  It  is  the  character  of  a 
religious  man  to  swear  with  due  reverence  and  upright  con- 
science. For,  '  the  king,'  saith  the  psalmist,  '  shall  rejoice  in 
God  ;  every  one  that  sweareth  by  him  shall  glory  ;  but  the 
mouth  of  them  that  speak  lies  shall  be  stopped.'  It  is  a  dis- 
tinctive mark  of  God's  people,  according  to  that  of  the  prophet 
Jeremy,  '  And  it  shall  come  to  pass,  if  they  will  diligently  learn 
the  ways  of  my  people,  to  swear  by  my  name — then  shall  they 
be  built  in  the  midst  of  my  people.'  It  is  predicted  concerning 
the  evangelical  times,  '  Unto  me  every  knee  shall  bow,  every 
tongue  shall  swear ;'  and,  '  that  he  who  blesseth  himself  in  the 
earth,  shall  bless  himself  by  the  God  of  truth  ;  and  he  that 
sweareth  in  the  earth,  shall  swear  by  the  God  of  truth.' 

As  therefore  all  other  acts  of  devotion,  wherein  immediate 
application  is  made  to  the  Divine  Majesty  should  never  be 
performed  without  most  hearty  intention,  most  serious  consi- 
deration, most  lowly  reverence;  so  neither  should  this  grand 
one,  wherein  God  is  so  nearly  touched,  and  his  chief  attributes 
so  much  concerned  :  the  which  indeed  doth  involve  both  prayer 

*  EwrfjSts  rb  fieXeif  to~is  6eo7s  imrperem.  It  is  a  pious  thing  willingly 
to  commend  our  case  or  controversy  to  God. — Arist.  Rhet.  i.  48. 


AGAINST  RASH  AND  VAIN  SWEARING.  383 


and  praise,  doth  require  the  most  devotional  acts  of  faith  and 
fear. 

We  therefore  should  so  perform  it  as  not  to  incur  that  re- 
proof :  '  This  people  draweth  nigh  unto  me  with  their  mouth, 
and  honoreth  me  with  their  lips,  but  their  heart  is  far  from  me.' 

When  we  seem  most  formally  to  avow  God,  to  confess  his 
omniscience,  to  confide  in  his  justice,  we  should  not  really  dis- 
regard him,  and  in  effect  signify  that  we  do  not  think  he  doth 
know  what  we  say,  or  mind  what  we  do. 

If  we  do  presume  to  offer  this  service,  we  should  do  it  in  the 
manner  appointed  by  himself,  according  to  the  conditions  pre- 
scribed in  the  prophet,  '  Thou  shalt  swear,  the  Lord  liveth,  in 
truth,  in  judgmentand  in  righteousness  :'  '  in  truth,'  taking  heed 
that  our  meaning  be  conformable  to  the  sense  of  our  words,  and 
our  words  to  the  verity  of  things  ;  '  in  judgment,'  having  with 
careful  deliberation  examined  and  weighed  that  which  we 
assert  or  promise  ;  '  in  righteousness,'  being  satisfied  in  con- 
science, that  we  do  not  therein  infringe  any  rule  of  piety 
toward  God,  of  equity  toward  men,  of  sobriety  and  discretion 
in  regard  to  ourselves. 

The  cause  of  our  swearing  must  be  needful,  or  very  expedi- 
ent ;  the  design  of  it  must  be  honest  and  useful  to  considerable 
purposes;  (tending  to  God's  honor,  our  neighbor's  benefit, 
our  own  welfare ;)  the  matter  of  it  should  be  not  only  just 
and  lawful,  but  worthy  and  weighty;  the  manner  ought  to  be 
grave  and  solemn,  our  mind  being  framed  to  earnest  attention, 
and  endued  with  pious  affections  suitable  to  the  occasion. 

Otherwise,  if  we  do  venture  to  swear,  without  due  advice 
and  care,  without  much  respect  and  awe,  on  any  slight  or  vain 
(not  to  say  bad  or  unlawful)  occasion  ;  we  then  desecrate 
swearing,  and  are  guilty  of  profaning  a  most  sacred  ordinance  : 
the  doing  so  doth  imply  base  hypocrisy,  or  lewd  mockery, 
or  abominable  wantonness  and  folly :  in  boldly  invading, 
and  vainly  trifling  with  the  most  august  duties  of  religion. 
Such  swearing  therefore  is  very  dishonorable  and  injurious 
to  God,  very  prejudicial  to  religion,  very  repugnant  to  piety. 

III.  We  may  consider  that  the  swearing  prohibited  is  very 
noxious  to  human  society. 

The  great  prop  of  society  (which  upholdeth  the  safety,  peace, 


384 


BARROW.— SERMON  XV. 


and  welfare  thereof,  in  observing  laws,  dispensing  justice,  dis- 
charging trusts,  keeping  contracts,  and  holding  good  corres- 
pondence mutually)  is  conscience,  or  a  sense  of  duty  toward 
God,  obliging  to  perform  what  is  right  and  equal;  quickened 
by  hope  of  rewards,  and  fear  of  punishments  from  him :  se- 
cluding which  principle,  no  worldly  consideration  is  strong 
enough  to  hold  men  fast;  or  can  farther  dispose  many  to  do 
right,  or  observe  faith,  or  hold  peace,  than  appetite,  or  in- 
terest, or  humor  (things  very  slippery  and  uncertain)  do  sway 
them. 

That  men  should  live  honestly,  quietly,  and  comfortably 
together,  it  is  needful  that  they  should  live  under  a  sense 
of  God's  will,  and  in  awe  of  the  divine  power,  hoping;  to 
please  God,  and  fearing  to  offend  him,  by  their  behavior  re- 
spectively. 

That  justice  should  be  administered  between  men,  it  is  ne- 
cessary that  testimonies  of  fact  be  alleged  ;  and  that  witnesses 
should  apprehend  themselves  greatly  obliged  to  discover  the 
truth,  according  to  their  conscience,  in  dark  and  doubting  cases. 

That  men  should  uprightly  discharge  offices  serviceable  to 
public  good,  it  doth  behove  that  they  be  firmly  engaged  to 
perform  the  trusts  reposed  in  them. 

That  in  affairs  of  very  considerable  importance,  men  should 
deal  with  one  another  with  satisfaction  of  mind  and  mutual 
confidence,  they  must  receive  competent  assurances  concerning 
the  integrity,  fidelity,  and  constancy  each  of  other. 

That  the  safety  of  governors  may  be  preserved,  and  the 
obedience  due  to  them  maintained  secure  from  attempts  to 
which  they  are  liable,  (by  the  treachery,  levity,  perverseness, 
timorousness,  ambition,  all  such  lusts  and  ill  humors  of  men,) 
it  is  expedieut  that  men  should  be  tied  with  the  strictest  bands 
of  allegiance. 

That  controversies  emergent  about  the  interests  of  men  should 
be  determined,  and  an  end  put  to  strife  by  peremptory  and 
satisfactory  means,  is  plainly  necessary  for  common  quiet. 

Wherefore  for  the  public  interest  and  benefit  of  human 
society,  it  is  requisite  that  the  highest  obligations  possible 
should  be  laid  on  the  consciences  of  men. 

And  such  are  those  of  oaths,  engaging  them  to  fidelity  and 


AGAINST  RASH  AND  VAIN  SWEARING.  385 


constancy  in  all  such  cases,  out  of  regard  to  Almighty  God,  as 
the  infallible  patron  of  truth  and  right,  the  unavoidable  chas- 
tisei  of  perridiousness  and  improbity. 

To  such  purposes  therefore  oaths  have  ever  been  applied, 
as  the  most  effectual  instruments  of  working  them ;  not  only 
among  the  followers  of  true  and  perfect  religion,  but  even 
among  all  those  who  had  any  glimmering  notions  concerning  a 
divine  power  and  providence ;  who  have  deemed  an  oath  the 
fastest  tie  of  conscience,  and  held  the  violation  of  it  for  the 
most  detestable  impiety  and  iniquity.  So  that  what  Cicero 
saith  of  the  Romans,  that  '  their  ancestors  had  no  band  to 
constrain  faith  more  strait  than  an  oath,'*  is  true  of  all  other 
nations;  common  reason  not  being  able  to  devise  any  engage- 
ment more  obliging  than  it ;  it  being  in  the  nature  of  things 
rekevraia  irions,  and  u\up(ijTaTov  ii\r)deias  kviyypov,  the  utmost 
assurance,  the  last  resort  of  human  faith,  the  surest  pledge  that 
any  man  can  yield  of  his  trustiness.  Hence  ever  in  transactions 
of  highest  moment  this  hath  been  used  to  bind  the  faith  of  men. 

Hereby  nations  have  been  wont  to  ratify  leagues  of  peace 
and  amity  between  each  other :  (which  therefore  the  Greeks 
called  vpnia.) 

Hereby  princes  have  obliged  their  subjects  to  loyalty  :  and 
it  hath  ever  been  the  strongest  argument  to  press  that  duty, 
which  the  preacher  useth ;  '  I  counsel  thee  to  keep  the  king's 
commandment,  and  that  in  regard  of  the  oath  of  God.' 

Hereby  generals  have  engaged  their  soldiers  to  stick  close  to 
them,  in  bearing  hardships  and  encountering  dangers. 

Hereby  the  nuptial  league  hath  been  confirmed  ;  the  solem- 
nization whereof  in  temples  before  God  is  in  effect  a  most 
sacred  oath. 

Hereon  the  decision  of  the  greatest  causes  concerning  the 
lives,  estates,  and  reputations  of  men  have  depended  ;  so  that, 
as  the  Apostle  saith,  '  an  oath  for  confirmation  is  to  them  an 
end  of  all  strife.' 

Indeed  such  hath  the  need  hereof  been  ever  apprehended, 
that  we  may  observe,  in  cases  of  great  importance,  no  other 


*  Nullum  enim  vinculum  ad  adstringendam  fidem  jurejurando 
majores  arciius  esse  voluerunt.— Cic.  de  Off.  iii. 

BAR.  VOL.  I.  r 


386 


E ARROW. — SERMON  XV. 


obligation  hath  been  admitted  for  sufficient  to  bind  the  fide- 
lity and  constancy  of  the  most  credible  persons  ;  so  that  even 
the  best  men  hardly  could  trust  the  best  men  without  it.  For 
instance, 

When  Abimelech  would  assure  to  himself  the  friendship  of 
Abraham,  although  he  knew  him  to  be  a  very  pious  and 
righteous  person,  whose  word  might  Le  as  well  taken  as  any 
roan's,  yet,  for  intire  satisfaction,  he  thus  spake  to  him  :  '  God 
is  w  ith  thee  in  all  that  thou  doest :  now  therefore  swear  unto 
roe  here  by  God,  that  thou  wilt  not  deal  falsely  with  me.' 

Abraham,  though  he  did  much  confide  in  the  honesty  of  his 
servant  Eliezer,  having  intrusted  him  with  all  his  estate,  yet 
in  the  affair  concerning  the  marriage  of  his  son,  he  could  not 
but  thus  oblige  him  :  '  Put,'  saith  he,  '  J  pray  thee,  thy  hand 
under  my  thigh  ;  and  I  will  make  thee  swear  by  the  Lord,  the 
God  of  heaven,  and  the  God  of  the  earth,  that  thou  wilt  not 
take  a  wife  unto  my  son  of  the  daughters  of  the  Canaanites.' 

Laban  had  good  experience  of  Jacob's  fidelity ;  yet  that 
would  not  satisfy,  but, '  the  Lord,'  said  he,  '  watch  between  me 
and  thee,  when  we  are  absent  one  from  another.  If  thou  shalt 
afflict  my  daughters,  or  if  thou  shalt  take  other  wives  beside 
roy  daughters,  no  man  is  with  us ;  see,  God  is  witness  between 
thee  and  me.  The  God  of  Abraham,  and  the  God  of  Nahor. 
the  God  of  their  father,  judge  betwixt  us.' 

So  did  Jacob  make  Joseph  swear,  that  he  would  '  bury 
him  in  Canaan  :'  and  Joseph  caused  the  children  of  Israel 
to  swear,  that  they  would  '  translate  his  bones.'  So  did 
Jonathan  cause  his  beloved  friend  David  to  swear,  that  he 
would  '  show  kindness  to  him,  and  to  his  house  for  ever.' 
The  prudence  of  which  course  the  event  showeth,  the  total 
excision  of  Jonathan's  family  being  thereby  prevented  ;  for, 
'  the  king,'  it  is  said,  '  spared  Mephibosheth  the  son  of  Jona- 
than, because  of  the  Lord's  oath  that  was  between  them,' 

These  instances  declare  that  there  is  no  security  which  men 
can  yield  comparable  to  that  of  an  oath ;  the  obligation  whereof 
no  man  wilfully  can  infringe,  without  renouncing  the  fear  of 
God,  and  any  pretence  to  his  favor. 

Wherefore  human  society  will  be  extremely  wronged  and 
damnified  by  the  dissolving  or  slackening  these  most  sacred 


AGAINST  RASH  AND  VAIN  SWEARING. 


381 


bands  of  conscience,  and  consequently  by  their  common  and 
careless  use;  which  soon  will  breed  a  contempt  of  them,  and 
render  them  insignificant,  either  to  bind  the  swearers,  or  to 
ground  a  trust  on  their  oaths. 

As  by  the  rare  and  reverent  use  of  oaths  their  dignity  is  up- 
held, and  their  obligation  kept  fast :  so  by  the  frequent  and 
negligent  application  of  them,  by  the  prostituting  them  to  every 
mean  and  toyish  purpose,  their  respect  will  be  quite  lost,  their 
strength  will  be  loosed,  they  will  prove  unserviceable  to 
public  use. 

If  oaths  generally  become  cheap  and  vile,  what  will  that  ot 
allegiance  signify  ?  If  men  are  wont  to  play  with  swearing 
anywhere,  can  we  expect  they  should  be  serious  and  strict 
therein  at  the  bar,  or  in  the  church?  Will  they  regard  God's 
testimony,  or  dread  his  judgment,  in  one  place,  or  at  one  time, 
when  every  where  on  any,  on  no  occasion  they  dare  to  confront 
and  contemn  them  ?  Who  then  will  be  the  more  trusted  for 
swearing  ?  What  satisfaction  will  any  man  have  from  it  ? 
The  rifeness  of  this  practice,  as  it  is  the  sign,  so  it  will  be  the 
cause  of  a  general  diffidence  among  men. 

Incredible  therefore  is  the  mischief  which  this  vain  practice 
will  bring  in  to  the  public  ;  depriving  princes  of  their  best 
security,  exposing  the  estates  of  private  men  to  uncertainty, 
shaking  all  the  confidence  men  can  have  in  the  faith  of  one 
another. 

For  which  detriments  accruing  from  this  abuse  to  the  public, 
every  vain  swearer  is  responsible;  and  he  would  do  well  to 
consider  that  he -will  never  be  able  to  make  reparation  for 
them.  And  the  public  is  much  concerned  that  this  enormity 
be  retrenched.  . 

IV.  Let  us  consider  that  rash  and  vain  swearing  is  very 
apt  often  to  bring  the  practiser  of  it  into  that  most  horrible  sin 
of  perjury.  For  '  false  swearing,'  as  the  Hebrew  wise  man 
saith,  'naturally  springeth  out  of  much  swearing  ;'*  and  'he,' 
saith  St.  Chrysostom,  '  that  sweareth  continually,  both 
willingly  and  unwillingly,  both  ignorantly  and  knowingly, 

*  4>u6Tai  itc  iroXvopKias  ipevSopida. — Philo  ill  Decal. 
t  'O  Si7jrcKc5s  o/jlvvs,  kc. — Clirys.  'AvSp.  iS'.  p.  553. 
Vlh  €<s  Mkpiitiv  7reV7)Te,  quidam  legunt,  Jac.  v.  12.  Vid.  Grot. 


388 


BARROW. — SERMON  XV. 


both  in  earnest  and  in  sport,  being  often  transported  by  anger 
and  many  other  things,  will  frequently  forswear.  It  is  con- 
fessed and  manifest,  that  it  is  necessary  for  him  that  sweareth 
much,  to  be  perjurious.'  Wfxriyavov  yap,  djiii\avov ,  '  For,' 
saith  he  again,  '  it  is  impossible,  it  is  impossible  for  a  mouth 
addicted  to  swearing,  not  frequently  to  forswear.'  He  that 
sweareth  at  random,  as  blind  passion  moveth,  or  wanton  fancy 
pronipteth,  or  the  tempter  suggesteth,  often  will  hit  on  asserting 
that  which  is  false,  or  promising  that  which  is  impossible  :  that 
want  of  conscience  and  of  consideration  which  do  suffer  him  to 
violate  God's  law  in  swearing,  will  betray  him  to  the  venting  of 
lies,  which  backed  with  oaths  become  perjuries.  If  sometime 
what  he  sweareth  doth  happen  to  be  true  and  performable,  it 
doth  not  free  him  of  guilt;  it  being  his  fortune,  rather  than  his 
care  or  conscience,  which  keepeth  him  from  perjury. 

V.  Such  swearing  commonly  will  induce  a  man  to  bind 
himself  by  oath  to  unlawful  practices ;  and  consequently  will 
entangle  him  in  a  woful  necessity,  either  of  breaking  his  oath, 
or  of  doing  worse,  and  committing  wickedness  :  so  that  '  swear- 
ing,' as  St.  Chrysostom  saith,  '  hath  this  misery  attending  it, 
that  both  transgressed  and  observed  it  plagueth  those  who  are 
guilty  of  it.'* 

Of  this  perplexity  the  holy  Scripture  affordeth  two  notable 
instances  :  the  one  of  Saul,  forced  to  break  his  rash  oaths  ;  the 
other  of  Herod,  being  engaged  thereby  to  commit  a  most  horrid 
murder. 

Had  Saul  observed  his  oaths,  what  injury  had  he  done,  what 
mischief  had  he  produced,  in  slaughtering  his  most  worthy  and 
most  innocent  son,  the  prop  and  glory  of  his  family,  the 
bulwark  of  his  country,  and  the  grand  instrument  of  salvation 
to  it ;  in  forcing  the  people  to  violate  their  cross  oath,  and 
for  prevention  of  one,  causing  many  perjuries?  He  was 
therefore  fain  to  desist,  and  lie  under  the  guilt  of  breaking  his 
oaths. 

And  for  Herod,  the  excellent  father  thus  presseth  the  consi- 
deration of  his  case  :  '  Take,'  saith  he,  '  I  beseech  you,  the 
chopped-ofT  head  of  St.  John,  and  his  warm  blood  yet  trickling 

*  ToCto  tJi  Sopov  (Xft  &  dpKos,  Sti  »coi  Traf,aBatv6ntvos  icai  (pvKan 6uo>os  ko- 
Aajei  tous  o\i<r/co/»eVous. — Cur)  s.  'AvSp.  tS1.  p.  553. 


AGAINST  RASH  AND  VAIN  SWEARING.  389 


down  ;  each  of  you  bear  it  home  with  you,  and  conceive  that 
before  your  eyes  you  hear  it  uttering  speech,  and  saying, 
Embrace  the  murderer  of  me,  an  oath.  That  which  reproof 
did  not,  this  an  oath  did  do  ;  that  which  the  tyrant's  wrath  could 
not,  this  the  necessity  of  keeping  an  oath  did  effect.  For  when 
the  tyrant  was  reprehended  publicly  in  the  audience  of  all  men, 
he  bravely  did  bear  the  rebuke  ;  but  when  he  had  cast  himself 
into  the  necessity  of  oaths,  then  did  he  cut  off  that  blessed 
head.'* 

VI.  Likewise  the  use  of  rash  swearing  will  often  engage  a 
man  in  undertakings  very  inconvenient  and  detrimental  to  him- 
self. A  man  is  bound  to  'perform  his  vows  to  the  Lord,' 
whatever  they  be,  whatever  damage  or  trouble  thence  may  accrue 
to  him,  if  they  be  not  unlawful.  It  is  the  law,  '  that  which  is 
gone  out  of  thy  lips,  thou  shalt  keep  and  perform.'  It  is  the 
property  of  a  good  man,  that  '  he  sweareth  to  his  own  hurt,  and 
changeth  not.'  Wherefore  it  is  the  part  of  a  sober  man,  to  be 
well  advised  what  he  doth  swear  or  vow  religiously  ;  that  he  do 
not  put  himself  into  the  inextricable  strait  of  committing  great 
sin,  or  undergoing  great  inconvenience  ;  that  he  do  not  rush 
into  that  snare  of  which  the  wise  man  speaketh,  '  It  is  a  snare 
to  a  man  to  devour  that  which  is  holy,  (or  to  swallow  a  sacred 
obligation,)  and  after  vows  to  make  inquiry,'!  seeking  how  ho 
may  disengage  himself :  the  doing  which  is  a  folly  offensive  to 
God,  as  the  preacher  telleth  us :  '  When,'  saith  he,  '  thou 
vowest  a  vow  unto  God,  defer  not  to  pay  it ;  for  he  hath  no 
pleasure  in  fools  :  pay  that  which  thou  hast  vowed.'  God  will 
not  admit  our  folly  in  vowing,  as  a  plea  or  an  excuse  for  non- 
performance ;  he  will  exact  it  from  us  both  as  a  due  debt,  and 
as  a  proper  punishment  of  our  impious  folly. 

For  instance,  into  what  loss  and  mischief,  what  sorrow,  what 
regret  and  repentance,  did  the  unadvised  vow  of  Jephtha  throw 
him  ?  the  performance  whereof,  as  St.  Chrysostom  remarketh, 
God  did  permit,  and  order  to  be  commemorated  with  solemn 
lamentation,  that  all  posterity  might  be  admonished  thereby, 
and  deterred  from  such  precipitant  swearing. 

*  TlapaxaXw  vjias  tV  K&pakty  'ludvvov  Aaj8<Was — .  'AvSp.  iS*.  p.  552. 
t  "Clvirep  Tivl  vaylSi  Karex^vot,  Kal  Ssir/noTj  aAurou  owHeSfptyoi,  &c  — 
Chrys.  'Ai'Sp.  f. 


390 


BARROW. — SERMON  XV. 


VII.  Let  us  consider  that  swearing  is  a  sin  of  all  others 
peculiarly  clamorous,  and  provocative  of  divine  judgment. 
God  is  hardly  so  much  concerned,  or  in  a  manner  constrained, 
to  punish  any  other  sin  as  this.  He  is  bound  in  honor  and 
interest  to  vindicate  his  name  from  the  abuse,  his  authority 
from  the  contempt,  his  holy  ordinance  from  the  profanation, 
which  it  doth  infer.  He  is  concerned  to  take  care  that  his 
providence  be  not  questioned,  that  the  dread  of  his  majesty  be 
not  voided,  that  all  religion  be  not  overthrown  by  the  outra- 
geous commission  thereof  with  impunity. 

It  immediately  toucheth  his  name,  it  expressly  calleth  on 
him  to  mind  it,  to  judge  it,  to  show  himself  in  avenging  it. 
He  may  seem  deaf  or  unconcerned,  if,  being  so  called  and 
provoked,  he  doth  not  declare  himself. 

There  is  understood  to  be  a  kind  of  formal  compact  between 
him  and  mankind,  obliging  him  to  interpose,  to  take  the 
matter  into  his  cognisance,  being  specially  addressed  to  him. 

The  bold  swearer  doth  importune  him  to  hear,  doth  rouse 
him  to  mark,  doth  brave  him  to  judge  and  punish  his  wicked- 
ness. 

Hence  no  wonder  that '  the  flying  roll,'  a  quick  and  inevi- 
table curse,  doth  surprise  the  swearer,  and  '  cut  him  off,' 
as  it  is  in  the  prophet.  No  wonder  that  so  many  remarkable 
instances  do  occur  in  history,  of  signal  vengeance  inflicted  on 
persons  notably  guilty  of  this  crime.  No  wonder  that  a  com- 
mon practice  thereof  doth  fetch  down  public  judgments;  and 
that,  as  the  prophets  of  old  did  proclaim,  '  because  of  swearing 
the  land  mourneth.' 

VIII.  Farther,  (passing  over  the  special  laws  against  it,  the 
mischievous  consequences  of  it,  the  sore  punishments  appointed 
to  it,)  we  may  consider  that  to  common  sense  vain  swearing  is 
a  very  unreasonable  and  ill-favored  practice,  greatly  misbe- 
coming any  sober,  worthy,  or  honest  person ;  but  especially 
most  absurd  and  incongruous  to  a  Christian. 

For  in  ordinary  conversation  what  needful  or  reasonable  oc- 
casion can  intervene  of  violating  this  command  ?  If  there  come 
under  discourse  a  matter  of  reason,  which  is  evidently  true  and 
certain,  then  what  need  can  there  be  of  an  oath  to  aflirm  it,  it 
sufficing  to  expose  it  to  light,  or  to  propose  the  evidences  for  it? 


AGAINST  RASH  AND  VAIN  SWEARING.  391 


If  an  obscure  or  doubtful  point  come  to  be  debated,  it  will  not 
bear  an  oath ;  it  will  be  a  strange  madness  to  dare,  a  great 
folly  to  hope  the  persuading  it  thereby.  What  were  more  ridi- 
culous than  to  swear  the  truth  of  a  demonstrable  theorem?  What 
more  vain  than  so  to  assert  a  disputable  problem  ?  Oaths,  like 
wagers,  are  in  such  cases  no  arguments,  except  of  silliness  in 
the  users  of  them. 

If  a  matter  of  history  be  started,  then  if  a  man  be  taken  for 
honest,  his  word  will  pass  for  attestation  without  farther  assu- 
rance :  but  if  his  veracity  or  probity  be  doubted,  his  oath  will 
not  be  relied  on,  especially  when  he  doth  obtrude  it.  For  it 
was  no  less  truly  than  acutely  said  by  the  old  poet,  Ovic  iivbpos 
0/jn.ot  7ri'<7-is,  d\\'  optiwv  avi)p,  '  The  man  doth  not  get  credit  from 
an  oath,  but  an  oath  from  the  man :'  and  a  greater  author, 
'  An  oath,'  saith  St.  Chrysostom,*  '  doth  not  make  a  man  cre- 
dible ;  but  the  testimony  of  his  life,  and  the  exactness  of  his 
conversation,  and  a  good  repute.  Many  often  have  burst  with 
swearing,  and  persuaded  no  man  :  others  only  nodding  have 
deserved  more  belief  than  those  who  have  swore  so  mightily.' 
Wherefore  oaths,  as  they  are  frivolous  coming  from  a  person  of 
little  worth  or  conscience,  so  they  are  superfluous  in  the  mouth 
of  an  honest  and  worthy  person  ;  yea,  as  they  do  not  in- 
crease the  credit  of  the  former,  so  they  may  impair  that  of  the 
latter. 

'  A  good  man,'  as  Socrates  did  say,  '  should  apparently  so 
demean  himself,  that  his  word  may  be  deemed  more  credible 
than  an  oath;'  the  constant  tenor  of  his  practice  vouching  for 
it,  and  giving  it  such  weight,  that  no  asseveration  can  far- 
ther corroborate  it. 

He  should  rots  epyois  evopicelv,  '  swear  by  his  good  deeds,' 
and  exhibit  ftiov  alwmaroy,  '  a  life  deserving  belief,'  as  Clemens 
Alexandrinus  saith  :f  so  that  no  man  should  desire  more  from 
him  than  his  bare  assertion  ;  but  willingly  should  yield  him 
the  privilege  which  the  Athenians  granted  to  Xenocrates,  that 
he  should  testify  without  swearing. 

He  should  be  like  the  Essenes,  of  whom  Josephus  saith, 

•  Chrys.  'AeSp.  f.  p.  514. 

t  Clem.  Alex.  Strom,  vii.  p.  524. 


:*92 


BARROW. — SERMON  XV. 


that  every  thing  spoken  by  them  was  more  valid  than  an  oath  ; 
whence  they  declined  swearing. 

He  should  so  much  confide  in  his  own  veracity  and  fidelity, 
and  so  much  stand  on  them,  that  he  should  not  deign  to  offer 
any  pledge  for  them,  implying  them  to  want  confirmation. 

He  should,  as  St.  Hierome  saith,  '  so  love  truth,  that  he 
should  suppose  himself  to  have  sworn  whatsoever  he  hath  said  ;' 
and  therefore  should  not  be  apt  to  heap  another  oath  on  his 
words. 

On  such  accounts  common  reason  directed  even  Pagan  wise 
men  wholly  to  interdict  swearing  in  ordinary  conversation,  or 
about  petty  matters,  as  an  irrational  and  immoral  practice,  un- 
worthy of  sober  and  discreet  persons.  '  Forbear  swearing  about 
any  matter,'  said  Plato,  cited  by  Clem.  Alex.  '  Avoid  swear- 
ing if  you  can,  wholly,'  said  Epictetus.  '  For  money  swear  by 
no  god,  though  you  swear  truly,'  said  Isocrates.  And  divers 
the  like  precepts  occur  in  other  heathens  ;  the  mention  whereof 
may  well  serve  to  strike  shame  into  many  loose  and  vain  peo- 
ple, bearing  the  name  of  Christians. 

Indeed,  for  a  true  and  real  Christian,  this  practice  doth  espe- 
cially in  a  far  higher  degree  misbecome  him,  on  considerations 
peculiar  to  his  high  calling  and  holy  profession. 

Plutarch  telleth  us  that  among  the  Romans  the  Flamen  of 
Jupiter  was  not  permitted  to  swear  :  of  which  law  among  other 
reasons  he  assigneth  this  ;  '  Because  it  is  not  handsome,  that 
he,  to  whom  divine  and  greatest  things  are  intrusted,  should 
de  distrusted  about  small  matters.'  The  which  reason  may  well 
be  applied  to  excuse  every  Christian  from  it,  who  is  a  priest  to 
the  Most  High  God,  and  hath  the  most  celestial  and  impor- 
tant matters  concredited  to  him  ;  in  comparison  to  which  all 
other  matters  are  very  mean  and  inconsiderable.  The  dignity 
of  his  rank  should  render  his  word  verbum  honoris,  passable 
without  any  farther  engagement.  He  hath  opinions  of  things, 
he  hath  undertaken  practices  inconsistent  with  swearing.  For 
he  that  firmly  doth  believe  that  God  is  ever  present  with  him, 
an  auditor  and  witness  of  all  his  discourse ;  he  that  is  per- 
suaded that  a  severe  judgment  shall  pass  on  him,  wherein  he 
must  '  give  an  account  for  every  idle  word'  which  slippeth  from 
him,  and  wherein,  among  other  offenders,  assuredly  liars  will 


AGAINST  RASH  AND  VAIN  SWEARING.  303 


be  condemned  to  the  burning  lake ;  he  that  in  a  great  sacra- 
ment (once  most  solemnly  taken,  and  frequently  renewed)  hath 
engaged  and  sworn,  together  with  all  other  divine  command- 
ments, to  observe  those  which  most  expressly  do  charge  him 
to  be  exactly  just,  faithful,  and  veracious  in  all  his  words  and 
deeds;  who  therefore  should  be  ready  to  say  with  David,  '  1 
have  sworn,  and  am  steadfastly  purposed  to  keep  thy  righteous 
judgments ;'  to  him  every  word  hath  the  force  of  an  oath  ; 
every  lie,  every  breach  of  promise,  every  violation  of  faith  doth 
involve  perjury  :  for  him  to  swear  is  false  heraldry,  an  imperti- 
nent accumulation  of  one  oath  on  another:  he  of  all  men  should 
disdain  to  allow  that  his  words  are  not  perfectly  credible,  that 
his  promise  is  not  secure,  without  being  assured  by  an  oath. 

IX.  Indeed  the  practice  of  swearing  greatly  disparageth 
him  that  useth  it,  and  derogateth  from  his  credit  on  divers  ac- 
counts. 

It  signifieth,  (if  it  signifieth  any  thing,)  that  he  doth  not  con- 
fide in  his  own  reputation,  and  judgeth  his  own  bare  word  not 
to  deserve  credit :  for  why,  if  he  taketh  his  word  to  be  good, 
doth  he  back  it  with  asseverations  ?  why,  if  he  deemeth  his 
own  honesty  to  bear  proof,  doth  he  cite  heaven  to  warrant  it? 

'  It  is,'  saith  St.  Basil,  '  a  very  foul  and  silly  thing  for  a 
man  to  accuse  himself  as  unworthy  of  belief,  and  to  proffer  an 
oath  for  security.' 

By  so  doing  a  man  doth  authorise  others  to  distrust  him  : 
for  it  can  be  no  wrong  to  distrust  him,  who  doth  not  pretend 
to  be  a  credible  person,  or  that  his  saying  alone  may  safely 
be  taken  ;  who,  by  suspecting  that  others  are  not  satisfied 
with  his  simple  assertion,  implieth  a  reason  known  to  himself 
for  it. 

It  rendereth  whatever  he  saith  to  be  in  reason  suspicious,  as 
discovering  him  void  of  conscience  and  discretion  :  for  he  that 
rlatly  against  the  rules  of  duty  and  reason  will  swear  vainly, 
what  can  engage  him  to  speak  truly  ?  He  that  is  so  loose  in  so 
clear  and  so  considerable  a  point  of  obedience  to  God,  how 
can  he  be  supposed  staunch  in  regard  to  any  other  ?  '  It  being,' 
as  Aristotle  hath  it,  '  the  part  of  the  same  men  to  do  ill  things, 
and  not  to  regard  forswearing.'  It  will  at  least  constrain  any 
man  to  suspect  all  his  discourse  of  vanity  and  unadvisedness, 


394 


BARROW. — SERMON  XV. 


seeing  he  plainly  hath  no  care  to  bridle  his  tongue  from  so  gross 
an  offence. 

It  is  strange  therefore  that  any  man  of  honor  or  honesty 
should  not  scorn,  by  such  a  practice,  to  shake  his  own  credit, 
or  to  detract  from  the  validity  of  his  word  ;  which  should 
stand  firm  on  itself,  and  not  want  any  attestation  to  support  it. 
It  is  a  privilege  of  honorable  persons,  that  they  are  excused 
from  swearing,  and  that  their  verbum  honoris  passeth  in  lieu 
of  an  oath  :  is  it  not  then  strange  that  when  others  dispense 
with  them,  they  should  not  dispense  with  themselves  ;  but  vo- 
luntarily degrade  themselves,  and  with  sin  forfeit  so  noble  a  pri- 
vilege ? 

X.  To  excuse  these  faults,  the  swearer  will  be  forced  to  con- 
fess that  his  oaths  are  no  more  than  waste  and  insignificant 
words;  deprecating  being  taken  for  serious,  or  to  be  understood 
that  he  meaneth  any  thing  by  them ;  but  only  that  he  useth 
them  as  expletive  phrases,  7rpos  ava-nX^pwaiv  \6yov,  to  plump  his 
speech,  and  fill  up  sentences.  But  such  pleas  do  no  more  than 
suggest  other  faults  of  swearing,  and  good  arguments  against 
it;  its  impertinence,  its  abuse  of  speech,  its  disgracing  the  prac- 
tiser  of  it  in  point  of  judgment  and  capacity.  For  so  it  is,  oaths 
as  they  commonly  pass  are  mere  excrescences  of  speech,  which 
do  nothing  but  incumber  and  deform  it;  they  so  embellish  dis- 
course, as  a  wen  or  a  scab  do  beautify  a  face,  as  a  patch  or  a 
spot  do  adorn  a  garment. 

To  what  purpose,  I  pray,  is  God's  name  hooked  and  haled 
into  our  idle  talk  ?  why  should  we  so  often  mention  him,  when 
we  do  not  mean  any  thing  about  him  ?  would  it  not,  into  every 
sentence  to  foist  a  dog  or  a  horse,  (to  intrude  Turkish,  or 
any  barbarous  gibberish,)  be  altogether  as  proper  and  per- 
tinent ? 

What  do  these  superfluities  signify,  but  that  the  venter  of 
them  doth  little  skill  the  use  of  speech,  or  the  rule  of  conversa- 
tion, but  meaneth  to  sputter  and  prate  any  thing  without  judg- 
ment or  wit ;  that  his  invention  is  very  barren,  his  fancy  beg- 
garly, craving  the  aid  of  any  stuff  to  relieve  it  ?  One  would 
think  a  man  of  sense  should  grutch  to  lend  his  ear,  or  incline 
his  attention  to  such  motley  ragged  discourse  ;  that  without 
nauseating  he  scarce  should  indure  to  observe  men  lavishing 


AGAINST  RASH  AND  VAIN  SWEARING. 


395 


lime,  and  squandering  their  breath  so  frivolously.  It  is  an  af- 
front to  good  company  to  pester  it  with  such  talk. 

XI.  But  farther,  on  higher  accounts  this  is  a  very  uncivil 
and  unmannerly  practice. 

Some  vain  persons  take  it  for  a  genteel  and  graceful  thing, 
a  special  accomplishment,  a  mark  of  fine  breeding,  a  point  of 
high  gallantry  :  for  who,  forsooth,  is  the  brave  spark,  the  com- 
plete gentleman,  the  man  of  conversation  and  address,  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  his  Maker, 
or  to  summon  him  in  attestation  of  his  tattle  ;  not  to  say,  calling 
and  challenging  the  Almighty  to  damn  and  destroy  him  ?  Such 
a  conceit,  I  say,  too  many  have  of  swearing,  because  a  custom 
thereof,  together  with  divers  other  fond  and  base  qualities,  hath 
prevailed  among  some  people  bearing  the  name  and  garb  of  gen- 
tlemen. 

But  in  truth  there  is  no  practice  more  crossing  the  genuine 
nature  of  genteelness,  or  misbecoming  persons  well  born  and 
well  bred  ;  who  should  excel  the  rude  vulgar  in  goodness,  in 
courtesy,  in  nobleness  of  heart,  in  unwillingness  to  offend,  and 
readiness  to  oblige  those  with  whom  they  converse,  in  steady 
composedness  of  mind  and  manners,  in  disdaining  to  say  or  do 
any  unworthy,  any  unhandsome  things. 

For  this  practice  is  not  only  a  gross  rudeness  toward  the  main 
body  of  men,  who  justly  reverence  the  name  of  God,  and  detest 
such  an  abuse  thereof:  not  only,  farther,  an  insolent  defiance  of 
the  common  profession,  the  religion,  the  law  of  our  country, 
which  disalloweth  and  condemneth  it ;  but  it  is  very  odious  and 
offensive  to  any  particular  society  or  company,  at  least  wherein 
there  is  any  sober  person,  any  who  retaineth  a  sense  of  good- 
ness, or  is  anywise  concerned  for  God's  honor ;  for  to  any  such 
person  no  language  can  be  more  disgustful ;  nothing  can  more 
grate  his  ears,  or  fret  his  heart,  than  to  hear  the  sovereign  ob- 
ject of  his  love  and  esteem  so  mocked  and  slighted  ;  to  see  the 
law  of  his  prince  so  disloyally  infringed,  so  contemptuously 
trampled  on  ;  to  find  his  best  friend  and  benefactor  so  out- 
rageously abused.    To  give  him  the  lie  were  a  compliment. 


396 


BARROW. — SERMON  XV. 


to  spit  in  his  face  were  an  obligation,  in  comparison  to  this 

usage. 

Wherefore  it  is  a  wonder  that  any  person  of  rank,  any  that 
hath  in  him  a  spark  of  ingenuity,  or  doth  at  all  pretend  to  good 
manners,  should  find  in  his  heart  or  deign  to  comply  with  so 
scurvy  a  fashion  ;  a  fashion  much  more  befitting  the  scum  of  the 
people  than  the  flower  of  the  gentry  ;  yea  rather,  much  below 
any  men  endued  with  a  scrap  of  reason,  or  a  grain  of  goodness. 
Would  we  bethink  ourselves,  modest,  sober,  and  pertinent  dis- 
course would  appear  far  more  generous  and  masculine,  than 
such  mad  hectoring  the  Almighty,  such  boisterous  insulting 
over  the  received  laws  and  general  notions  of  mankind,  such 
ruffianly  swaggering  against  sobriety  and  goodness.  If  gentle- 
men would  regard  the  virtues  of  their  ancestors,  the  founders  of 
their  quality;  that  gallant  courage,  that  solid  wisdom,  that 
noble  courtesy,  which  advanced  their  families,  and  severed 
them  from  the  vulgar;  this  degenerate  wantonness  and  sordid- 
ness  of  language  would  return  to  the  dunghill,  or  rather,  which 
God  grant,  be  quite  banished  from  the  world  ;  the  vulgar  fol- 
lowing their  example. 

XII.  Farther,  the  words  of  our  Lord,  when  he  forbad  this 
practice,  do  suggest  another  consideration  against  it,  deducible 
from  the  causes  and  sources  of  it  ;  from  whence  it  cometh  that 
men  are  so  inclined  or  addicted  thereto  ;  '  Let,'  saith  he,  '  your 
communication  be,  yea,  yea  ;  nay,  nay  :  for  whatsoever  is  more 
than  these  cometh  of  evil.'  The  roots  of  it  he  assureth  us  are 
evil,  and  therefore  the  fruit  cannot  be  good  :  it  is  no  grape 
which  groweth  from  thorns,  or  fig  from  thistles.  Consult  ex- 
perience, and  observe  whence  it  doth  proceed. 

Sometimes  it  ariseth  from  exorbitant  heats  of  spirit,  or  trans- 
ports of  unbridled  passion.  When  a  man  is  keenly  peevish,  or 
fiercely  angry,  or  eagerly  contentious,  then  he  blustereth,  and 
dischargeth  his  choler  in  most  tragical  strains  ;  then  he  would 
fright  the  objects  of  his  displeasure  by  the  most  violent  expres- 
sions thereof.  This  is  sometime  alleged  in  excuse  of  rash  swear- 
ing; '  I  was  provoked  ;'  the  swearer  will  say,  '  I  was  in  pas- 
sion:' but  it  is  strange  that  a  bad  cause  should  justify  a  bad 
effect;  that  one  crime  should  warrant  another;  that  what 
would  spoil  a  good  action  should  excuse  a  bad  one. 


AGAINST  RASH  AND  VAIN  SWEARING. 


997 


Sometimes  it  proccedcth  from  arrogant  conceit,  and  a  tyran- 
nical humor  ;  when  a  man  fondly  admireth  his  own  opinion, 
and  affecting  to  impose  it  on  others,  is  thence  moved  to  thwack 
it  on  with  lusty  asseverations. 

Sometimes  it  issueth  from  wantonness  and  levity  of  mind, 
disposing  a  man  to  sport  with  any  thing,  how  serious,  how 
grave,  how  sacred  and  venerable  soever. 

Sometimes  its  rise  is  from  stupid  inadvertency,  or  heady  pre- 
cipitancy ;  when  the  man  doth  not  heed  what  he  saith,  or  con- 
sider the  nature  and  consequence  of  his  words,  but  snatcheth 
any  expression  which  cometh  next,  or  which  his  roving  fancy 
doth  offer  ;  for  want  of  that  caution  of  the  psalmist,  '  I  said,  I 
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  be- 
fore me.' 

Sometimes  (alas !  how  often  in  this  miserable  age!)  it  doth 
spring  from  profane  boldness ;  when  men  design  to  put  affronts 
on  religion,  and  to  display  their  scorn  and  spite  against  con- 
science ;  affecting  the  reputation  of  stout  blades,  of  gallant 
hectors,  of  resolute  giants,  who  dare  do  any  thing,  who 
are  not  afraid  to  defy  Heaven,  and  brave  God  Almighty  him- 
self. 

Sometimes  it  is  derived  from  apish  imitation,  or  a  humor  to 
comply  with  a  fashion  current  among  vain  and  dissolute  per- 
sons. 

It  always  doth  come  from  a  great  defect  of  conscience,  of 
reverence  to  God,  of  love  to  goodness,  of  discretion  and  sober 
regard  to  the  welfare  of  a  man's  soul. 

From  such  evidently  vicious  and  unworthy  sources  it  pro- 
ceedeth,  and  therefore  must  needs  be  very  culpable.  No  good, 
no  wise  man  can  like  actions  drawn  from  such  principles. 
Farther, 

XIII.  This  offence  may  be  particularly  aggravated  by  con- 
sidering that  it  hath  no  strong  temptation  alluring  to  it;  that 
it  yieldeth  no  sensible  advantage;  that  it  most  easily  maybe 
avoided  or  corrected. 

'  Every  sin,'  saith  St.  Chrysostom,  '  hath  not  the  same 
punishment ;  but  those  things  which  may  easily  be  reformed 
do  bring  on  us  greater  punishment :'  and  what  can  be  more 


308 


BARROW. — SERMON  XV. 


easy  than  to  reform  this  fault?  «  Tell  me,'  saith  he,  '  what 
difficulty,  what  sweat,  what  art,  what  hazard,  what  more  doth 
it  require,  beside  a  little  care,'  to  abstain  wholly  from  it  ?  It 
is  but  willing,  or  resolving  on  it,  and  it  is  instantly  done  :  for 
there  is  not  any  natural  inclination  disposing  to  it,  any  strong 
appetite  to  detain  us  under  its  power. 

It  gratifieth  no  sense,  it  yieldeth  no  profit,  it  procureth  no 
honor ;  for  the  sound  of  it  is  not  very  melodious,  and  no  man 
surely  did  ever  get  an  estate  by  it,  or  was  preferred  to  dignity 
for  it.  It  rather  to  any  good  ear  maketh  a  horrid  and  jarring 
noise  ;  it  rather  with  the  best  part  of  the  world  produceth  dis- 
pleasure, damage,  and  disgrace.  What  therefore  beside  mon- 
strous vanity,  and  unaccountable  perverseness,  should  hold 
men  so  devoted  thereto  ? 

Surely  of  all  dealers  in  sin  the  swearer  is  palpably  the  sil- 
liest, and  maketh  the  worst  bargains  for  himself;  for  he  sin- 
neth  gratis,  and,  like  those  in  the  prophet,  '  selleth  his  soul 
for  nothing.'  An  epicure  hath  some  reason  to  allege,  an  ex- 
tortioner is  a  man  of  wisdom,  and  acteth  prudently  in  compa- 
rison to  him  ;  for  they  enjoy  some  pleasure,  or  acquire  some 
gain  here,  in  lieu  of  their  salvation  hereafter  :  but  this  fondling 
offeadeth  Heaven,  and  abandoneth  happiness,  he  knoweth  not 
why  or  for  what.  He  hath  not  so  much  as  the  common  plea 
of  human  infirmity  to  excuse  him  ;  he  can  hardly  say  that  he 
was  tempted  thereto  by  any  bait. 

A  fantastic  humor  possesseth  him  of  spurning  at  piety  and 
soberness  ;  he  inconsiderately  followeth  a  herd  of  wild  fops  ; 
he  affecteth  to  play  the  ape.  What  more  than  this  can  he  say 
for  himself? 

XIV.  Finally,  let  us  consider  that,  as  we  ourselves,  with 
all  our  members  and  powers,  were  chiefly  designed  and  framed 
to  glorify  our  Maker  ;  (the  which  to  do  is  indeed  the  greatest 
perfection  and  noblest  privilege  of  our  nature  ;)  so  our  tongue 
and  speaking  faculty  were  given  to  us  to  declare  our  admira- 
tion and  reverence  of  him,  to  exhibit  our  due  love  and  gratitude 
toward  him,  to  profess  our  trust  and  confidence  in  him,  to  cele- 
brate his  praises,  to  avow  his  benefits,  to  address  our  supplica- 
tions to  him,  to  maintain  all  kinds  of  devotional  intercourse  with 
him,  to  propagate  our  knowlege,  fear,  love,  and  obedience  to 


AGAINST  RASH  AND  VAIN  SWEARING. 


3(19 


him,  in  all  such  ways  to  promote  his  honor  and  service.  This 
is  the  most  proper,  worthy,  and  due  use  of  our  tongue,  for 
which  it  was  created,  to  which  it  is  dedicated,  from  whence  it 
becometh,  as  it  is  so  often  styled,  our  glory,  and  the  best  mem 
ber  that  we  have  ;  that  whereby  we  excel  all  creatures  here 
below,  and  whereby  we  are  no  less  discriminated  from  them 
than  by  our  reason  ;  that  whereby  we  consort  with  the  blessed 
angels  above  in  the  distinct  utterance  of  praise,  and  communi- 
cation of  glory  to  our  Creator.  Wherefore  applying  this  to 
any  impious  discourse,  with  this  to  profane  God's  blessed  name, 
with  this  to  violate  his  holy  commands,  with  this  to  unhallow 
his  sacred  ordinance,  with  this  to  offer  dishonor  and  indignity 
to  him,  is  a  most  unnatural  abuse,  a  horrid  ingratitude  toward 
him. 

It  is  that  indeed  whereby  we  render  this  noble  organ  inca- 
pable of  any  good  use.  For  how  (as  the  excellent  Father*  doth 
often  urge)  can  we  pray  to  God  for  mercies,  or  praise  God  for 
his  benefits,  or  heartily  confess  our  sins,  or  cheerfully  partake 
of  the  holy  mysteries,  with  a  mouth  defiled  by  impious  oaths, 
with  a  heart  guilty  of  so  heinous  disobedience  ? 

Likewise,  whereas  a  secondary,  very  worthy  use  of  our 
speech  is,  to  promote  the  good  of  our  neighbor,  and  especially 
to  edify  him  in  piety,  according  to  that  wholesome  precept  of 
the  Apostle,  '  Let  no  corrupt  communication  proceed  out  of 
your  mouth,  but  that  which  is  good  to  the  use  of  edifying,  that 
it  may  minister  grace  unto  the  hearers;'  the  practice  of  swear- 
ing is  an  abuse  very  contrary  to  that  good  purpose,  serving  to 
corrupt  our  neighbor,  and  to  instil  into  him  a  contempt  of  reli- 
gion ;  or,  however,  grievously  to  scandalise  him. 

XV.  I  shall  add  but  two  words  more.  One  is,  that  we 
would  seriously  consider  that  our  blessed  Saviour,  who  loved 
us  so  dearly,  who  did  and  suffered  so  much  for  us,  who  re- 
deemed us  by  his  blood,  who  said  unto  us,  '  If  ye  love  me, 
keep  my  commandments,'  he  thus  positively  hath  enjoined, 
'  But  I  say  unto  you,  Swear  not  at  all:'  and  how  then  can 
we  find  in  our  heart  directly  to  thwart  his  word  ? 

The  other  is,  that  we  would  lay  to  heart  the  reason  whereby 


*  Chrys.  'AfSp.  i8\  p.  359.  ta-  p.  538. 


400 


BARROW. — SERMON  XV. 


St.  James  doth  inforce  the  point,  and  the  sting  in  the  close  of 
our  text,  wherewith  I  conclude  ;  '  But  above  all  things,  my 
brethren,  swear  not,  neither  by  heaven,  neither  by  the  earth, 
neither  by  any  other  oath  :  but  let  your  yea  be  yea,  and  your 
nay  nay,  lest  ye  fall  into  condemnation,'  or,  '  lest  ye  fall 
under  damnation.'  From  the  which  infinite  mischief,  and  from 
all  sin  that  may  cause  it,  God  in  mercy  deliver  us  through  our 
blessed  Redeemer  Jesus,  to  whom  for  ever  be  all  glory  and 
praise. 


SERMON  XVI. 


401 


SUMMARY  OF  SERMON  XVI. 

TITUS,  CHAP.  III. — VERSE  2. 

The  words  of  the  text  imply  a  double  duty  ;  one  incumbent 
on  teachers,  another  on  the  people  who  are  to  be  instructed  by 
them. 

The  teacher's  duty  will  appear  from  reflecting  on  the  words 
of  the  context,  which  govern  these,  and  make  them,  up  an 
intire  sentence :  put  them  in  mind,  or,  rub  up  their  memory  to 
do  thus :  we  have  here  St.  Paul's  injunction  to  Titus,  a  bishop 
and  pastor  of  the  church ;  whence  it  is  apparent  that  this  is  one 
of  the  principal  duties  that  preachers  are  obliged  to  press  on  the 
people ;  and  if  it  were  requisite  in  St.  Paul's  time,  it  is  now 
especially  so  :  farther  observations  on  this  topic. 

The  import  and  extent  of  the  duty,  not  to  reproach  or  speak 
evil  of  any  man,  is  first  explained  ;  and  next  inculcated  by  se- 
veral inducements  to  the  observance  of  it. 

I.  For  explication,  we  may  considerthe  object  of  it,  no  man  ; 
then  the  act  itself  which  is  prohibited,  to  blaspheme,  that  is,  to 
reproach,  to  revile,  or  as  we  have  it  rendered,  to  speak  evil. 

No  man.  St.  Paul  questionless  did  especially  mean  hereby 
to  hinder  Christians  at  that  time  from  reproaching  the  Jews  and 
Pagans  among  whom  they  lived,  wicked  men,  who  did  hate 
and  persecute  them ;  of  whom  therefore  they  had  great  provo- 
cation to  speak  ill :  whence  may  be  inferred  that  the  object  of 
this  duty  is  very  large,  indeed  universal  and  unlimited. 

As  for  the  act,  fikaatprmelv ,  to  blaspheme,  it  is  to  vent  words 
concerning  any  person  which  signify  an  ill  opinion,  hatred,  or 
enmity  in  our  minds  towards  him,  which  are  apt  to  kindle  in  him 


402 


SUMMARY  OF 


wrath  and  ill  blood  against  us,  or  ill  will  toward  him  in  others 
that  hear  us,  which  are  productive  of  injury  or  mischief  to  him  : 
synonymes  of  it  that  are  used  in  Scripture  quoted.  The  reason  of 
things  helps  to  explain  these  words,  and  to  show  why  they  are 
prohibited :  because  such  harsh  terms  are  needless ;  mild  words 
serving  as  well  to  express  the  same  things ;  because  they  are 
commonly  unjust,  loading  men  with  greater  blame  than  they  can 
be  proved  to  deserve;  because  they  are  uncharitable,  and  pro- 
duce mischievous  erl'ects.  This  is  in  gross  the  meaning  of  the 
precept.  But  since  there  are  some  other  precepts  which  seem  to 
clash  with  it,  some  cases  wherein  we  are  allowed  to  use  the 
harsher  sort  of  terms,  it  may  be  recpjisite,  for  determining'  the 
limits  of  our  duty,  to  declare  such  exceptions  or  restrictions. 

1.  First,  then,  we  may  observe  that  it  may  be  allowable  to 
persons,  anywise  concerned  in  the  prosecution  or  administration 
of  justice,  to  speak  words  which  in  private  intercourse  would 
be  reproachful. 

2.  God's  ministers  in  religious  affairs,  to  whom  the  care  of 
men's  instruction  and  edification  is  committed,  are  empowered 
to  inveigh  against  sin  and  vice,  whoever  consequentially  may 
be  touched  thereby  ;  yea,  sometimes  it  is  their  duty  sharply 
to  rebuke  particular  persons  for  their  correction  and  the  edifi- 
cation of  others.  Directions  of  St.  Paul  to  Timothy  on  this 
point.  Instances  of  this  in  the  old  prophets,  and  in  the 
Apostles. 

3.  Even  private  persons  in  due  season,  with  discretion  and 
temper,  may  reprove  others,  whom  they  observe  to  commit 
sin,  or  to  follow  bad  courses,  out  of  a  charitable  design,  and 
with  a  hope  to  reclaim  them.  This  was  an  office  of  charity 
imposed  anciently  on  the  Jews :  much  more  does  it  lie  on 
Christians. 

4.  Some  vehemency  or  sharpness  of  speech  may  sometimes 
be  used  in  defence  of  truth,  and  in  attacking  errors  of  bad 
consequence,  especially  when  it  concerns  the  interest  of  truth, 


SERMON  XVI. 


40d 


that  tlie  reputation  and  authority  of  its  adversaries  should  be 
somewhat  abated. 

5.  It  may  be  excusable,  on  particular  emergent  occasions, 
with  some  heat  of  language  to  express  dislike  of  notorious 
wickedness.  Our  Lord's  speeches  against  the  pharisees  in- 
stanced ;  also  those  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  against  Simon 
Magus  and  Elymas  ;  &c. 

These  sort  of  speeches,  issuing  from  just  indignation,  and 
from  persons  eminent  in  authority  and  integrity,  such  as  can- 
not be  suspected  of  intemperate  anger  and  ill  will,  are  some- 
times excusable,  and  even  commendable.  But  it  will  be  right 
to  reflect  on  the  cases  when  they  appear  so,  and  to  remark  some 
particulars  about  them. 

First,  we  may  observe  that  in  all  such  cases  all  possible 
moderation,  equity,  and  candor,  are  to  be  used;  so  that  no  ill 
speaking  be  practised  beyond  what  is  needful  or  convenient. 
Even  in  the  prosecution  of  offences,  the  bounds  of  truth,  huma- 
nity, and  clemency  are  not  to  be  transgressed  :  this  may  be 
learned  from  the  law  of  Moses. 

Secondly,  ministers,  in  taxing  sin  and  sinners,  are  to  proceed 
with  great  caution,  gentleness,  and  meekness ;  signifying  a 
tender  pity  of  their  infirmities,  charitable  desires  for  their  good, 
and  the  best  hopes  for  them  that  may  consist  with  reason  ;  ac- 
cording to  the  apostolical  rules  quoted. 

Thirdly,  as  for  fraternal  correction  and  reproof  of  faults,  when 
it  is  just  and  expedient  to  use  it,  ordinarily  the  calmest  and 
mildest  way  is  most  proper  and  likely  to  obtain  good  success  ; 
whereas  rough  handling  is  apt  to  obstruct  the  cure,  and  harsh 
speech  renders  advice  odious. 

Fourthly,  in  defence  also  of  truth  and  maintenance  of  a 
good  cause,  commonly  the  fairest  language  is  most  proper  and 
advantageous:  a  modest  and  friendly  style  suits  truth,  which 
thus  propounded  is  more  willingly  hearkened  to  ;  but  it  is  a 
preposterous  method  of  instructing,  of  deciding  controversies, 


404 


SUMMARY  OF 


of  begetting  peace,  to  vex  and  anger  those  concerned  by  ill 
language. 

Fifthly,  as  for  the  examples  of  extraordinary  persons,  which 
in  some  cases  seem  to  authorise  the  practice  of  evil-speaking ; 
we  may  consider  that,  as  they  had  especial  commission  enabling 
them  to  do  some  things  beyond  ordinary  rules,  and  had  especial 
illumination  to  direct  them,  so  the  tenor  of  their  life  gave 
evidence  that  the  glory  of  God,  the  good  of  men,  and  the 
necessity  of  the  case,  moved  them  to  it :  this  topic  en- 
larged on. 

The  cases  of  exception  then  are  few,  and  to  be  cautiously 
admitted:  for  our  clearer  direction,  in  speaking  about  our 
neighbor,  we  must  observe  the  following  cautions. 

1.  We  should  never  in  severe  terms  inveigh  against  any  man 
Without  reasonable  warrant,  or  presuming  on  a  good  call  and 
commission  for  the  purpose. 

2.  We  should  never  speak  so  of  any  man  without  apparent 
just  cause  :  we  must  not  reproach  men  for  things  innocent  or 
indifferent,  for  not  complying  with  our  humor  or  interests. 

3.  We  should  not  cast  reproach  on  any  man  without  some 
necessary  reason  :  in  that  charity  which  covereth  a  multitude 
of  sins,  we  are  bound  to  extenuate  and  excuse  the  faults  of  our 
brethren,  so  far  as  truth  and  equity  permit. 

4.  We  should  never  speak  ill  of  our  neighbor  beyond  mea- 
sure, be  the  cause  never  so  just,  the  occasion  never  so  necessary. 

5.  We  should  never  speak  ill  of  any  man  out  of  bad  prin- 
ciples, or  for  bad  ends;  from  no  sudden  anger,  inveterate 
hatred,  revengeful  disposition,  contempt,  or  envy;  to  compass 
any  design  of  our  own,  to  cherish  any  malignity  or  ill  humor  ; 
neither  out  of  wantonness  nor  out  of  negligence  and  inadver- 
tency ;  in  fine  from  no  other  principle  but  that  of  charity,  and 
to  no  other  intent  but  what  is  charitable. 

II.  So  much  for  the  explication  of  this  precept:  some  in- 
ducements to  the  observance  of  it  are  now  propounded. 


SERMON  XVI. 


40* 


1.  Let  us  consider  that  nothing  more  than  railing  and  revil- 
ing is  opposite  to  the  nature,  and  inconsistent  with  the  tenor  of 
our  religion. 

2.  It  is  therefore  often  expressly  condemned  and  prohibited 
as  evil. 

3.  Against  no  practice  are  severer  punishments  denounced. 
St.  Paul  adjudges  the  railer  to  be  banished  from  good  society, 
1  Cor.  v.  11. ;  and  from  heaven,  1  Cor.  vi.  10. 

4.  Such  language  is  in  its  nature  the  symptom  of  a  weak 
and  distempered  mind  :  a  stream  that  cannot  issue  from  a  sweet 
spring. 

o.  This  practice  plainly  signifies  low  spirit,  ill-breeding, 
and  bad  manners,  and  is  thence  unbecoming  to  any  wise, 
honest,  or  honorable  person  :  all  such  have  an  aversion  to 
it,  and  cannot  entertain  it  with  complacency. 

G.  He  that  uses  this  kind  of  speech,  as  he  harms  and  troubles 
others,  so  does  he  create  thereby  great  inconveniences  and 
mischiefs  to  himself:  this  point  enlarged  on. 

7.  Hence  with  evidently  good  reason  is  he  that  uses  such 
language  called  a  fool ;  and  he  that  abstaineth  from  it  is  com- 
mended as  wise  :  Prov.  xviii.  G.  7. 

8.  Lastly,  we  may  consider  that  it  is  a  grievous  perversion 
of  the  design  of  speech,  which  so  much  distinguishes  us  above 
other  creatures,  to  use  it  in  defaming  and  disquieting  our 
neighbor  :  far  better  were  it  that  we  could  say  nothing,  than 
that  we  should  speak  ill.  Conclusion. 


406 


BARROW. — SERMON  XVI. 


SERMON  XVI. 
OF  EVIL-SPEAKING  IN  GENERAL. 


TITUS,  CHAP.  III. — VERSE  2. 

— To  speak  evil  of  no  man. 

These  words  do  imply  a  double  duty  ;  one  incumbent  on 
teachers,  another  on  the  people  who  are  to  be  instructed  by 
them. 

The  teacher's  duty  appeareth  from  reflecting  on  the  words 
of  the  context,  which  govern  these,  and  make  them  up  an 
intire  sentence;  '  Put  them  in  mind,'  or,  rub  up  their  memory 
to  do  thus.  It  is  St.  Paul's  injunction  to  Titus,  a  bishop  and 
pastor  of  the  church,  that  he  should  admonish  the  people  com- 
mitted to  his  care  and  instruction,  as  of  other  great  duties,  (of 
yielding  obedience  to  magistrates,  of  behaving  themselves 
peaceably,  of  practising  meekness  and  equity  toward  all  men, 
of  being  '  readily  disposed  to  every  good  work,')  so  particu- 
larly of  this,  fiTjbeva  (3\ao<j>T)fielv ,  '  to  revile,'  or  '  speak  evil  of 
no  man.' 

Whence  it  is  apparent  that  this  is  one  of  the  principal  duties 
that  preachers  are  obliged  to  mind  people  of,  and  to  press  on 
them.  And  if  this  were  needful  then,  when  charity,  kindled 
by  such  instructions  and  examples,  was  so  lively ;  when  Chris- 
tians, by  their  sufferings,  were  so  inured  to  meekness  and 
patience;  even  every  one,  for  the  honor  of  his  religion,  and 
the  safety  of  his  person,  was  concerned  in  all  respects  to  demean 
himself  innocently  and  inoffensively  ;  then  is  it  now  especially 
requisite,  when  (such  engagements  and  restraints  being  taken 


OF  EVIL- SPEAKING   IN  GENERAL. 


407 


off,  love  being  cooled,  persecution  being  extinct,  the  tongue 
being  set  loose  from  all  extraordinary  curbs)  the  transgression 
of  this  duty  is  grown  so  prevalent  and  rife,  that  evil-speaking 
is  almost  as  common  as  speaking,  ordinary  conversation  ex- 
tremely abounding  therewith,  that  ministers  should  discharge 
their  office  in  dehorting  and  dissuading  from  it. 

Well  indeed  it  were,  if  by  their  example  of  using  mild  and 
moderate  discourse,  of  abstaining  from  virulent  invectives, 
tauntings,  and  scoffings,  good  for  little  but  to  inflame  anger, 
and  infuse  ill-will,  they  would  lead  men  to  good  practice  of  this 
sort:  for  no  examples  can  be  so  wholesome,  or  so  mischievous 
to  this  purpose,  as  those  which  come  down  from  the  pulpit, 
the  place  of  edification,  backed  with  special  authority  and  ad- 
vantage. 

However,  it  is  to  preachers  a  ground  of  assurance,  and 
matter  of  satisfaction,  that  in  pressing  this  duty  they  shall 
perform  their  duty  :  their  text  being  not  so  much  of  their  own 
choosing,  as  given  them  by  St.  Paul;  they  can  surely  scarce 
find  a  better  to  discourse  on  :  it  cannot  be  a  matter  of  small 
moment  or  use,  which  this  great  master  and  guide  so  ex- 
pressly directeth  us  to  insist  on.  And  to  the  observance  of 
his  precept,  so  far  as  concerneth  me,  I  shall  immediately  apply 
myself. 

It  is  then  the  duty  of  all  Christian  people,  (to  be  taught,  and 
pressed  on  them,)  'not  to  reproach,'  or  'speak  evil  of  any 
man.'  The  which  duty,  for  your  instruction,  I  shall  first  en- 
deavor somewhat  to  explain,  declaring  its  import  and  extent ; 
then,  for  your  farther  edification,  I  shall  inculcate  it,  pro- 
posing several  inducements  persuasive  to  the  observance  of  it. 

I.  For  explication,  we  may  first  consider  the  object  of  it, 
'no  man;'  then  the  act  itself,  which  is  prohibited,  'to  blas- 
pheme,' that  is,  to  reproach,  to  revile,  or,  as  we  have  it  ren- 
dered, '  to  speak  evil.' 

'No  man.'  St.  Paul  questionless  did  especially  mean  hereby 
to  hinder  the  Christians  at  that  time  from  reproaching  the  Jews 
and  the  Pagans  among  whom  they  lived,  men  in  their  lives 
very  wicked  and  corrupt,  men  in  opinion  extremely  dissenting 
from  them  v  men  who  greatly  did  hate,  and  cruelly  did  perse- 
cute them.;  of  whom  therefore  they  had  mighty  provocations 


108 


BARROW. — SERMON  XVI. 


and  temptations  to  speak  ill ;  their  judgment  of  the  persons, 
and  their  resentment  of  injuries,  making  it  difficult  to  abstain 
from  doing  so.  Whence  by  a  manifest  analogy  may  be  in- 
ferred, that  the  object  of  thisduty  is  very  large,  indeed  universal 
and  unlimited  :  that  we  must  forbear  reproach  not  only  against 
pious  and  virtuous  persons,  against  persons  of  our  own  judgment 
or  party,  against  those  who  never  did  harm  or  offend  us,  against 
our  relations,  our  friends,  our  benefactors  ;  in  respect  of  whom 
there  is  no  ground  or  temptation  of  ill-speaking ;  but  even 
against  the  most  unworthy  and  wicked  persons,  against  those 
who  most  discoast  in  opinion  and  practice  from  us,  against 
those  who  never  did  oblige  us,  yea  those  who  have  most  dis- 
obliged us,  even  against  our  most  bitter  and  spiteful  enemies. 
There  is  no  acception  or  excuse  to  be  admitted  from  the 
quality,  state,  relation,  or  demeanor  of  men ;  the  duty  (ac- 
cording to  the  proper  sense,  or  due  qualifications  and  limits 
of  the  act)  doth  extend  to  all  men  :  for,  '  speak  evil  of  no 
man.' 

As  for  the  act,  it  may  be  inquired  what  the  word  fiXaofTUittv, 
'  to  blaspheme,'  doth  import.  I  answer,  that  it  is  to  vent  words 
concerning  any  person  which  do  signify  in  us  ill  opinion,  or 
contempt,  anger,  hatred,  enmity  conceived  in  our  minds  toward 
him  ;  which  are  apt  in  him  to  kindle  wrath,  and  breed  ill 
blood  toward  us ;  which  tend  to  beget  in  others  that  hear  ill 
conceit,  or  ill-will  toward  him  ;  which  are  much  destructive  of 
his  reputation,  prejudicial  to  his  interests,  productive  of  damage 
or  mischief  to  him.  It  is  otherwise  in  Scripture  termed  Xoibo- 
pe'tv,  'to  rail' or  '  revile,' (to  use  bitter  and  ignominious  lan- 
guage ;)  vfipiieiv,  'to  speak  contumeliously ;'  yipeiv  fi\uo<hr)pov 
xpioiv,  '  to  bring  railing  accusation,'  (or  reproachful  censure  ;) 
KaraXaXt'iv,  to  use  'obloquy,'  or  '  obtrectation  ;'  Karapavtiai, 
'to  curse,'  that  is,  to  speak  words  importing  that  we  do  wish 
ill  to  a  person. 

Such  is  the  language  we  are  prohibited  to  use.  To  w  hich 
purpose  we  may  observe,  that  whereas  in  our  conversation  and 
commerce  with  men,  there  do  frequently  occur  occasions  to 
speak  of  men,  and  to  men,  words  apparently  disadvantageous 
to  them  expressing  our  dissent  in  opinion  from  them,  or  a 
dislike  in  us  of  their  proceedings,  we  may  do  this  in  different 


OF  EVIL-SPEAKING   IN  GENERAL. 


SOS) 


ways  and  terms ;  some  of  them  gentle  and  moderate,  signify- 
ing no  ill  mind  or  disaffection  toward  them  :  others  harsh 
and  sharp,  arguing  height  of  disdain,  disgust,  or  despite, 
whereby  we  bid  them  defiance,  and  show  that  we  mean  to  ex- 
asperate them.  Thus,  telling  a  man  that  we  differ  in  judgment 
from  him,  or  conceive  him  not  to  be  in  the  right,  and  calling 
him  a  liar,  a  deceiver,  a  fool ;  saying  that  he  doeth  amiss, 
taketh  a  wrong  course,  transgresseth  the  rule,  and  calling  him 
dishonest,  unjust,  wicked ;  (to  omit  more  odious  and  provok- 
ing names,  unbecoming  this  place,  and  not  deserving  our 
notice ;)  are  several  ways  of  expressing  the  same  things : 
whereof  the  latter,  in  relating  passages  concerning  our  neigh- 
bor, or  in  debating  cases  with  him,  is  prohibited  :  for  thus  the 
words  reproaching,  reviling,  railing,  cursing,  and  the  like, 
do  signify ;  and  thus  our  Lord  himself  doth  explain  them,  in 
his  divine  sermon,  wherein  he  doth  enact  this  law;  '  Whoso- 
ever,' saith  he,  '  shall  say  to  his  brother,  Raca,'  (that  is,  vain 
man,  or  liar,)  '  shall  be  in  danger  of  the  council :  but  whoso- 
ever shall  say,  Thou  fool,  shall  be  in  danger  of  hell  fire  ;' 
that  is,  he  rendereth  himself  liable  to  a  strict  account,  and  to 
severe  condemnation  before  God,  who  useth  contemptuous  and 
contumelious  expressions  toward  his  neighbor,  in  proportion  to 
the  malignity  of  such  expressions. 

The  reason  of  things  also  doth  help  to  explain  those  words, 
and  to  show  why  they  are  prohibited  :  because  those  harsh 
terms  are  needless  ;  mild  words  serving  as  well  to  express  the 
same  things  :  because  they  are  commonly  unjust,  loading  men 
with  greater  defect  or  blame  than  they  can  be  proved  to  de- 
serve, or  their  actions  do  import :  (for  every  man  that  speaketh 
falsehood  is  not  therefore  a  liar,  every  man  that  erreth  is  not 
thence  a  fool,  every  man  that  doeth  amiss  is  not  consequently 
dishonest  or  wicked  ;  the  secret  intentions  and  the  habitual 
dispositions  of  men  not  being  always  to  be  collected  from  their 
outward  actions  :)  because  they  are  uncharitable,  signifying 
that  we  entertain  the  worst  opinions  of  men,  and  make  the 
worst  construction  of  their  doings,  and  are  disposed  to  show 
them  no  favor  or  kindness:  because  also  they  produce  mis- 
chievous effects,  such  as  spring  from  the  worst  passions  raised 
by  them. 

BAR.  VOL.  I.  S 


410 


BARROW. — SERMON  XVI. 


This  in  gross  is  the  meaning  of  the  precept.  But  since 
there  are  some  other  precepts  seeming  to  clash  with  this ; 
since  there  are  cases  wherein  we  are  allowed  to  use  the  harsher 
sort  of  terms,  there  are  great  examples  in  appearance  thwart- 
ing this  rule  ;  therefore  it  may  be  requisite  for  determining 
the  limits  of  our  duty,  and  distinguishing  it  from  transgres- 
sion, that  such  exceptions  or  restrictions  should  be  somewhat 
declared. 

1.  First  then,  we  may  observe  that  it  may  be  allowable  to 
persons  anywise  concerned  in  the  prosecution  or  administration 
of  justice,  to  speak  words  which  in  private  intercourse  would 
be  reproachful.  A  witness  may  impeach  of  crimes  hurtful  to 
justice,  or  public  tranquillity;  a  judge  may  challenge,  may 
rebuke,  may  condemn  an  offender  in  proper  terms,  (or  forms 
of  speech  prescribed  by  law,)  although  most  disgraceful  and 
distasteful  to  the  guilty :  for  it  belongeth  to  the  majesty  of 
public  justice  to  be  bold,  blunt,  severe  ;  little  regarding  the 
concerns  or  passions  of  particular  persons,  in  comparison  to  the 
public  welfare. 

A  testimony  therefore  or  sentence  against  a  criminal,  which 
materially  is  a  reproach,  and  morally  would  be  such  in  a  pri- 
vate mouth,  is  not  yet  formally  so  according  to  the  intent  of 
this  rule.  For  practices  of  this  kind,  which  serve  the  exigences 
of  justice,  are  not  to  be  interpreted  as  proceeding  from  anger, 
hatred,  revenge,  any  bad  passion  or  humor;  but  in  way  of 
needful  discipline  for  God's  service,  and  common  benefit  of 
men.  It  is  not  indeed  so  much  the  minister  of  justice,  as  God 
himself,  our  absolute  Lord,  as  the  Sovereign,  God's  represen- 
tative, acting  in  the  public  behalf,  as  the  commonwealth  itself, 
who  by  his  mouth  do  rebuke  the  obnoxious  person. 

2.  God's  ministers  in  religious  affairs,  to  whom  the  care  of 
men's  instruction  and  edification  is  committed,  are  enabled  to 
inveigh  against  sin  and  vice,  whoever  consequentially  maybe 
touched  thereby  ;  yea  sometimes  it  is  their  duty  with  severity 
and  sharpness  to  reprove  particular  persons,  not  only  privately, 
but  publicly,  in  order  to  their  correction,  and  edification  of 
others. 

Thus  St.  Paul  directeth  Timothy ;  '  Them  that  sin  (notori- 
ously and  scandalously  he  meaneth)  rebuke  before  all,  that 


OF  EVIL  SPEAKING  IN  GENERAL. 


411 


others  may  fear;'  that  is  in  a  manner  apt  to  make  impression 
on  the  minds  of  the  hearers,  so  as  to  scare  them  from  like  of- 
fences. And  to  Titus  he  writes,  '  Rebuke  them  sharply,  that 
they  may  be  sound  in  the  faith.'  And,  '  Cry  aloud,  spare  not, 
lift  up  thy  voice  like  a  trumpet,  and  show  my  people  their 
transgressions,  and  the  house  of  Jacob  their  sins,'  saith  the  Lord 
to  the  prophet.  Such  are  the  charges  and  commissions  laid  on 
and  granted  to  his  messengers. 

Thus  may  we  observe  that  God's  prophets  of  old,  St.  John 
the  Baptist,  our  Lord  himself,  the  holy  Apostles  did  in  terms 
most  vehement  and  biting  reprove  the  age  in  which  they  lived, 
and  some  particular  persons  in  them.  The  prophets  are  full  of 
declamations  and  invectives  against  the  general  corruption  of 
their  times,  and  against  the  particular  manners  of  some  persons 
in  them.  'Ah  sinful  nation,  a  people  laden  with  iniquity,  a 
seed  of  evil-doers,  children  that  are  corrupters  !'  '  They  are 
all  adulterers,  an  assembly  of  treacherous  men  ;  and  they  bend 
their  tongues  like  their  bow  for  lies.'  '  Thy  princes  are  rebel- 
lious, and  companions  of  thieves;  every  one  loveth  gifts,  and 
followeth  after  rewards:  they  judge  not  the  fatherless,  neither 
doth  the  cause  of  the  widow  come  before  them.'  '  The  prophets 
prophecy  falsely,  and  the  priests  rule  by  their  means.'  '  As 
troops  of  robbers  wait  for  a  man,  so  the  company  of  priests 
murder  in  the  way  by  consent,  and  commit  lewdness.'  Such  is 
their  style  commonly.  St.  John  the  Baptist  calleth  the  scribes 
and  pharisees  •  a  generation  of  vipers.'  Our  Saviour  speaketh  of 
them  in  the  same  terms ;  calleth  them  an  '  evil  and  adulterous  ge- 
neration,' 'serpents,'  and  'children  of  vipers;'  'hypocrites,' 
*  painted  sepulchres,'  '  obscure  graves,'  (/i»^eia  aSijXa,)  '  blind 
guides,'  '  fools  and  blind,' '  children  of  the  devil.'  St.  Paul  like- 
wise calleth  the  schismatical  and  heretical  teachers,  '  dogs,'  '  false 
Apostles,'  '  evil  and  deceitful  workers,'  '  men  of  corrupt  minds,' 
'  reprobates  and  abominable.'  With  the  like  colors,  do  St. 
Peter,  St.  Jude,  and  other  the  Apostles,  paint  them.  Which 
sort  of  speeches  are  to  be  supposed  to  proceed,  not  from  private 
passion  or  design,  but  out  of  holy  zeal  for  God's  honor,  and  from 
earnest  charity  toward  men,  for  to  work  their  amendment  and 
common  edification.  They  were  uttered  also  by  special  wisdom 
and  peculiar  order;  from  God's  authority  and  in  his  name  :  so 


412 


BARROW. — SERMON  XVI. 


that  as  God  by  them  is  said  to  preach,  to  entreat,  to  warn,  and 
to  exhort ;  so  by  them  also  he  may  be  said  to  reprehend  and 
reproach. 

3.  Even  private  persons  in  due  season,  with  discretion  and 
temper,  may  reprove  others,  whom  they  observe  to  commit  sin, 
or  follow  bad  courses,  out  of  charitable  design,  and  with  hope 
to  reclaim  them.  This  was  an  office  of  charity  imposed  an- 
ciently even  on  the  Jews  :  much  more  doth  it  lie  on  Christians, 
who  are  obliged  more  earnestly  to  tender  the  spiritual  good  of 
those  who  by  the  stricter  and  more  holy  bands  of  brotherhood 
are  allied  to  them.  'Thou  shalt  not  hate  thy  brother:  thou 
shalt  in  anywise  rebuke  thy  neighbor,  and  not  suffer  sin  on  him,' 
was  a  precept  of  the  old  law  :  and,  vovdeTelv  utoktovs,  4  to  ad- 
monish  the  disorderly,'  is  an  evangelical  rule.  Such  persons 
we  are  injoined  to  shun  and  decline  :  but  first  we  must  endea- 
vor by  sober  advice  and  admonition  to  reclaim  them  ;  we  must 
not  thus  reject  them  till  they  appear  contumacious  and  incor- 
rigible, refusing  to  hear  us,  or  becoming  deaf  to  reproof.  This, 
although  it  necessarily  doth  include  setting  out  their  faults,  and 
charging  blame  on  them,  (answerable  to  their  offences,)  is 
not  the  culpable  reproach  here  meant,  it  being  needful  toward 
a  wholesome  effect,  and  proceeding  from  charitable  intention. 

4.  Some  vehemency  (some  smartness  and  sharpness)  of 
speech  may  sometimes  be  used  in  defence  of  truth,  and  im- 
pugning errors  of  bad  consequence  :  especially  when  it  con- 
cerned the  interest  of  truth,  that  the  reputation  and  authority 
of  its  adversaries  should  somewhat  be  abased  or  abated.  If  by 
a  partial  opinion  or  reverence  toward  them,  however  begotten 
in  the  minds  of  men,  they  strive  to  overbear  or  discountenance 
a  good  cause,  their  faults,  so  far  as  truth  permitteth  and  need 
requireth,  may  be  detected  and  displayed.  For  this  cause  par- 
ticularly may  we  presume  our  Lord  (otherwise  so  meek  in  his 
temper,  and  mild  in  his  carriage  toward  all  men)  did  charac- 
terise the  Jewish  scribes  in  such  terms,  that  their  authority 
(being  then  so  prevalent  with  the  people)  might  not  prejudice 
the  truth,  and  hinder  the  efficacy  of  his  doctrine.  This  is 
part  of  that  iirayuvtitoQat  rj;  jr/Vrei,  that  duty  of'  contending 
earnestly  for  the  faith,'*  which  is  incumbent  on  us. 

*  Jude  3. 


OF  EVIL-SPEAKING   IN  GENERAL. 


413 


5.  It  may  be  excusable  on  particular  emergent  occasions, 
with  some  heat  of  language  to  express  dislike  of  notorious 
wickedness.  As  our  Lord  doth  against  the  perverse  incredu- 
lity and  stupidity  in  the  pharisees,  their  profane  misconstruc- 
tion of  his  words  and  actions,  their  malicious  opposing  truth, 
and  obstructing  his  endeavors  in  God's  service.  As  St.  Peter 
did  to  Simon  Magus,  telling  him,  that  he  '  was  in  the  gall  of 
bitterness,  and  in  the  bond  of  iniquity.'  As  St.  Paul  to 
Elymas  the  sorcerer,  when  he  '  withstood  him,  and  desired  to 
turn  away  the  deputy,  Sergius,  from  the  faith.'  '  O,'  said  he, 
stirred  with  a  holy  zeal  and  indignation,  'thou  full  of  all  sub- 
tilty  and  all  mischief,  thou  child  of  the  devil,  thou  enemy  of  all 
righteousness,  wilt  thou  not  cease  to  pervert  the  right  ways  of 
the  Lord  V  The  same  spirit,  which  enabled  him  to  inflict  a 
sore  punishment  on  that  wicked  wretch,  did  prompt  him  to  use 
that  sharp  language  toward  him  ;  unquestionably  deserved, 
and  seasonably  pronounced.  As  also,  when  the  high  priest 
commanded  him  illegally  and  unjustly  to  be  misused,  that 
speech  from  a  mind  justly  sensible  of  such  outrage  broke  forth, 
'  God  shall  smite  thee,  thou  whited  wall.'  So,  when  St.  Peter 
presumptuously  would  have  dissuaded  our  Lord  from  com- 
pliance with  God's  will,  in  undergoing  those  crosses  which 
were  appointed  to  him  by  God's  decree,  our  Lord  calleth  him 
Satan ;  "Tiraye,  larava,  '  Avaunt,  Satan,  thou  art  an  offence 
unto  me ;  for  thou  savourest  not  the  things  that  be  of  God,  but 
those  that  are  of  men.' 

These  sort  of  speeches,  issuing  from  just  and  honest  indig- 
nation, are  sometimes  excusable,  oftentimes  commendable  ; 
especially  when  they  come  from  persons  eminent  in  authority, 
of  notable  integrity,  endued  with  special  measures  of  divine 
grace,  of  wisdom,  of  goodness  ;  such  as  cannot  be  suspected  of 
intemperate  anger,  of  ill  nature,  of  ill  will,  or  ill  design. 

In  such  cases  as  are  above  mentioned,  a  sort  of  '  evil-speak- 
ing' about  our  neighbor  may  be  allowable  or  excusable.  But 
for  fear  of  overdoing,  great  caution  and  temper  is  to  be  used ; 
and  we  should  never  apply  any  such  limitations  as  cloaks  to 
palliate  unjust  or  uncharitable  dealing.  Generally  it  is  more 
advisable  to  suppress  such  eruptions  of  passion,  than  to  vent  it ; 
for  seldom  passion  hath  not  inordinate  motions  joined  with  it, 


414  BARROW. — SERMON  XVI. 

or  tendeth  to  good  ends.  And  however  it  will  do  well  to 
reflect  on  those  cases,  and  to  remark  some  particulars  about 
them. 

First,  we  may  observe,  that  in  all  these  cases,  all  possible 
moderation,  equity,  and  candor  are  to  be  used;  so  that  no  ill- 
speaking  be  practised  beyond  what  is  needful  or  convenient. 
Even  in  prosecution  of  offences,  the  bounds  of  truth,  of  equity, 
of  humanity  and  clemency  are  not  to  be  transgressed.  A 
judge  must  not  lay  on  the  most  criminal  person  more  blame,  or 
contumely,  than  the  case  will  bear,  or  than  serveth  the  designs 
of  justice.  However  our  neighbor  doth  incur  the  calamities  of 
sin  and  of  punishment,  we  must  not  be  insolent  or  contemptuous 
toward  him.  So  we  may  learn  by  that  law  of  Moses,  backed 
with  a  notable  reason  :  '  and  it  shall  be,  if  the  wicked  man  be 
worthy  to  be  beaten,  that  the  judge  cause  him  to  lie  down,  and 
to  be  beaten  before  his  face,  according  to  his  fault,  by  a  certain 
number.  Forty  stripes  he  may  give  him,  and  not  exceed  ;  lest 
if  he  should  exceed,  and  beat  him  above  those  stripes,  then  thy 
brother  should  seem  vile  unto  thee.'  Whence  appears,  that  we 
should  be  careful  of  not  vilifying  an  offender  beyond  measure. 
And  how  mildly  governors  should  proceed  in  the  administration 
of  justice,  the  example  of  Joshua  may  teach  us,  who  thus 
examineth  Achan,  the  cause  of  so  great  mischief  to  the  public  : 
'  My  son,  give,  I  pray  thee,  glory  to  the  Lord  God  of  Israel, 
and  make  confession  unto  him ;  and  tell  me  now  what  thou 
hast  done,  hide  it  not  from  me.'  '  My  son  ;'  what  compellation 
could  be  more  benign  and  kind  ?  '  I  pray  thee  ;'  what  language 
could  be  more  courteous  and  gentle  ?  '  Give  glory  to  God,  and 
make  confession  ;'  what  words  could  be  more  inoffensively 
pertinent  ?  And  when  he  sentenced  that  great  malefactor,  the 
cause  of  so  much  mischief,  this  was  all  he  said,  '  Why  hast  thou 
troubled  us  ?  the  Lord  will  trouble  thee  ;'  words  void  of  con- 
tumely or  insulting,  containing  only  a  close  intimation  of  the 
cause,  and  a  simple  declaration  of  the  event  he  was  to  undergo. 

Secondly,  likewise  ministers,  in  the  taxing  sin  and  sinners, 
are  to  proceed  with  great  discretion  and  caution,  with  much 
gentleness  and  meekness ;  signifying  a  tender  pity  of  their  in- 
firmities, charitable  desires  of  their  good,  the  best  opinion  of 
them,  and  the  best  hopes  for  them,  that  may  consist  with  any 


OF  EVIL-SPEAKING  IN  GENERAL. 


41-3 


reason ;  according  to  those  apostolical  rules :  *  Brethren,  if  a 
man  be  overtaken  in  a  fault,  ye  which  are  spiritual,  restore 
such  an  one  in  the  spirit  of  meekness  ;  considering  thyself,  lest 
thou  also  be  tempted  :'  and,  '  we  that  are  strong  ought  to  bear 
the  infirmities  of  the  weak,  and  not  to  please  ourselves  :'  and 
more  expressly,  *  a  servant  of  the  Lord  must  not  fight,  but  be 
gentle  toward  all,  apt  to  teach,  patient,  in  meekness  instruct- 
ing those  that  oppose  themselves.'  Thus  did  St.  Peter  temper 
his  reproof  of  Simon  Magus  with  this  wholesome  and  comfort- 
able advice  ;'  '  Repent  therefore  from  this  thy  wickedness,  and 
pray  God,  if  perhaps  the  thought  of  thine  heart  may  be  for- 
given thee.' 

Thirdly,  as  for  fraternal  correption,  and  reproof  of  faults, 
when  it  is  just  and  expedient  to  use  it,  ordinarily  the  calmest 
and  mildest  way  is  the  most  proper,*  and  most  likely  to  obtain 
good  success  :  it  commonly  doth  in  a  more  kindly  manner  con- 
vey the  sense  thereof  into  the  heart, f  and  therein  more  powerfully 
worketh  remorse,  than  the  fierce  and  harsh  way.  Clearly  to 
show  a  man  his  fault,  with  the  reason  proving  it  such,  so  that 
he  becometh  throughly  convinced  of  it,  is  sufficient  to  breed 
in  him  regret,  and  to  shame  him  before  his  own  mind :  to  do 
more,  (in  way  of  aggravation,  of  insulting  on  him,  of  inveighing 
against  him,)  as  it  doth  often  not  well  consist  with  humanity, 
so  it  is  seldom  consonant  to  discretion,  if  we  do,  as  we  ought, 
seek  his  health  and  amendment*  Humanity  requireth  that 
when  we  undertake  to  reform  our  neighbor,  we  should  take 
care  not  to  deform  him  ;  (not  to  discourage  or  displease  him 
more  than  is  necessary ;)  when  we  would  correct  his  manners, 
that  we  should  also  consider  his  modesty,  and  consult  his  repu- 
tation ;  Curam  agentes,  as  Seneca  speaketh,  non  tantum  salu- 
tis,  sed  et  honestce  cicatricis  ;§  '  having  care  not  only  to  heal 

*  Repreliensio  conttimelia  vacare  debet.  Neque  raonilio  aspera 
sit,  nec  objurgalio  contumeliosa. — Ambros.  de  Offic.  iii.  16. 

+  Prov.  xvii.  10.  A  reproof  enteretli  more  into  a  wise  man,  than 
a  hundred  stripes  into  a  fool. 

t  'O  iS-qybt,  '6rav  \df}r)  Tina  Tt\avtl>ixevov,  ^yaytv  cVl  d5bv  t^i>  iiovtrta)'  ouxl 
KaraytXdaas  if)  KoiSoprtffdfia'os  airrjkfc-  xol  <ru  8eT£ov  airu  tV  aKridetav,  ko! 
otyu  tin  aKo\ov8c7,  kc. —  Epict.  ii.  12. 

§  Sen.  de  Clem.  i.  7.    "Vide  Chrjs.  in  Matt.  ix.  8.  Or.  29. 


1 1  s 


BARROW. — SERMON  XVI. 


the  wound,  but  to  leave  a  comely  scar  behind.'  '  Be,'  adviseth 
St.  Austin,  '  so  displeased  with  iniquity,  as  to  consider  and  con- 
sult humanity  :'*  for,  '  zeal  void  of  humanity  is  not,'  saith  St. 
Chrysostom,  '  zeal,  but  rather  animosity  ;  and  reproof  not  mixed 
with  good  will,  appeareth  a  kind  of  malignity.' f  We  should 
so  rebuke  those  who,  by  frailty  or  folly  incident  to  mankind, 
have  fallen  into  misdemeanors,  that  they  may  peceive  we  do 
sincerely  pity  their  ill  case,  and  tender  their  good ;  that  we 
mean  not  to  upbraid  their  weakness,  or  insult  on  their  misfor- 
tune ;  that  we  delight  not  to  inflict  on  them  more  grief  than  is 
plainly  needful  and  unavoidable ;  that  we  are  conscious  and 
sensible  of  our  own  obnoxiousness  to  the  like  slips  or  falls,  and 
do  '  consider,  that  we  also  maybe  tempted,'  and  being  tempted 
may  be  overborne.  This  they  cannot  perceive,  or  be  persuaded 
of,  except  we  temper  our  speech  with  benignity  and  mildness. 
Such  speech  %  prudence  also  dictateth,  as  most  useful  and 
hopeful  for  producing  the  good  ends  honest  reprehension  doth 
aim  at;  it  mollirieth  and  it  melteth  a  stubborn  heart,  it  sub- 
dueth  and  winneth  a  perverse  will,  it  healeth  distempered  af- 
fections. Whereas  roughly  handling  is  apt  to  defeat  or  obstruct 
the  cure;  rubbing  the  sore  doth  tend  to  exasperate  and  inflame 
it.  Harsh  speech  rendereth  advice  odious  and  unsavory ; 
driveth  from  it,  and  depriveth  it  of  efficacy  :  it  turneth  regret 
for  a  fault  into  displeasure  and  disdain  against  the  reprover :  it 
looks  not  like  the  dealing  of  a  kind  friend,  but  like  the  perse- 
cution of  a  spiteful  enemy :  it  seemeth  rather  an  ebullition  of 
gall,  or  a  defluxion  from  rancor,  than  an  expression  of  good 
will :  the  offender  will  take  it  for  a  needless  and  pitiless  tor- 
menting, or  for  a  proud  and  tyrannical  domineering  over  him. 
He  that  can  bear  a  friendly  touch,  will  not  endure  to  be  lashed 
with  angry  and  reproachful  words.    In  line,  all  reproof  ought 

*  Ita  succense  iuiquitati,  ut  consulere  memineris  humanitatis. — 
Aug. 

t  ZfjXos  <pi\av8pairias  Kevhs,  oit  Zn^os,  &C. 

I  Pleasant  words  are  as  an  lioney-comb,  sweet  to  the  soul,  and 
health  to  the  bones.  Prov.  xvi.  24. 

A  soft  answer  turneth  away  wrath;  but  grievous  words  stir  up 
anger.  Prov.  xv.  1. 


OF  EVIL-SPEAKING  IN  GENERAL. 


117 


to  be  seasoned  with  discretion,  with  candor,  with  moderation 
and  meekness. 

Fourthly,  likewise  in  defence  of  truth,  and  maintenance  of  a 
good  cause,  we  may  observe,  that  commonly  the  fairest  lan- 
guage is  most  proper  and  advantageous,  and  that  reproachful 
or  foul  terms  are  most  improper  and  prejudicial.  A  calm  and 
meek  way  of  discoursing  doth  much  advantage  a  good  cause, 
as  arguing  the  patron  thereof  to  have  confidence  in  the  cause 
itself,  and  to  rely  on  his  strength  ;  that  he  is  in  a  temper  fit  to 
apprehend  it  himself,  and  to  maintain  it ;  that  he  propoundeth 
it  as  a  friend,  wishing  the  hearer  for  his  own  good  to  follow  it, 
leaving  him  the  liberty  to  judge  and  choose  for  himself.  But 
rude  speech,  and  contemptuous  reflexions  on  persons,  as  they 
do  signify  nothing  to  the  question,  so  they  commonly  bring- 
much  disadvantage  and  damage  to  the  cause,  creating  mighty 
prejudices  against  it :  they  argue  much  impotency  in  the  advo- 
cate, and  consequently  little  strength  in  what  he  maintains ; 
that  he  is  little  able  to  judge  well,  and  altogether  unapt  to 
teach  others :  they  intimate  a  diffidence  in  himself  concerning 
his  cause,  and  that,  despairing  to  maintain  it  by  reason,  he 
seeks  to  uphold  it  by  passion  ;  that,  not  being  able  to  convince 
by  fair  means,  he  would  bear  down  by  noise  and  clamor  ;  that, 
not  skilling  to  get  his  suit  quietly,  he  would  extort  it  by  force, 
obtruding  his  conceits  violently  as  an  enemy,  or  imposing  them 
arbitrarily  as  a  tyrant.  Thus  doth  he  really  disparage  and  slur 
his  cause,  however  good  and  defensible  in  itself. 

A  modest  and  friendly  style  doth  suit  truth ;  it,  like  its  au- 
thor, doth  usually  reside  (not  in  the  rumbling  wind,  nor  in  the 
shaking  earthquake,  nor  in  the  raging  fire,  but)  in  '  the  small 
still  voice  :'  sounding  in  this,  it  is  most  audible,  most  penetrant, 
and  most  effectual :  thus  propounded,  it  is  willingly  hearkened 
to ;  for  men  have  no  aversation  from  hearing  those  who  seem 
to  love  them,  and  wish  them  well.  It  is  easily  conceived  ;  no 
prejudice  or  passion  clouding  the  apprehensive  faculties  :  it  is 
readily  embraced  ;  no  animosity  withstanding  or  obstructing  it. 
It  is  •'  the  sweetness  of  the  lips,'  which,  as  the  wise  man  telleth 
us,  '  increaseth  learning  ;'  disposing  a  man  to  hear  lessons  of 
good  doctrine,  rendering  him  capable  to  understand  them,  insi- 


418 


BARROW. — SERMON  XVI. 


nuating  and  impressing  them  on  the  mind  :  the  affections 
being  thereby  unlocked,  the  passage  becomes  open  to  the 
reason. 

But  it  is  plainly  a  very  preposterous  method  of  instructing, 
of  deciding  controversies,  of  begetting  peace,  to  vex  and  anger 
those  concerned  by  ill  language.  Nothing  surely  doth  more 
hinder  the  efficacy  of  dicourse,  and  prevent  conviction,  than 
doth  this  course,  on  many  obvious  accounts.  It  doth  first  put 
in  a  strong  bar  to  attention  :  for  no  man  willingly  doth  afford 
an  ear  to  him  whom  he  conceiveth  disaffected  toward  him  ; 
which  opinion  harsh  words  infallibly  will  produce  :  no  man  can 
expect  to  hear  truth  from  him,  whom  he  apprehendeth  disor- 
dered in  his  own  mind,  whom  he  seeth  rude  in  his  proceed- 
ings, whom  he  taketh  to  be  unjust  in  his  dealing;  as  men  cer- 
tainly will  take  those  to  be,  who  presume  to  revile  others  for 
using  their  own  judgment  freely,  and  dissentiDg  from  them  in 
opinion.  Again,  this  course  doth  blind  the  hearer's  mind,  so 
that  he  cannot  discern  what  he  that  pretends  to  instruct  him 
doth  mean,  or  how  he  doth  assert  his  doctrine.  Truth  will  not 
be  discerned  through  the  smoke  of  wrathful  expressions  ;  right 
being  defaced  by  foul  language  will  not  appear  ;  passion  being 
excited  will  not  suffer  a  man  to  perceive  the  sense,  or  the  force 
of  an  argument.  The  will  also  thereby  is  hardened  and  hin- 
dered from  submitting  to  truth.  In  such  a  case,  non  persua- 
debis,  etiamsi  persuaseris:  although  you  stop  his  mouth,  you 
cannot  subdue  his  heart;  although  he  can  no  longer  fight,  yet 
he  never  will  yield  :  animosity  raised  by  such  usage  rendereth 
him  invincibly  obstinate  in  his  conceits  and  courses.  Briefly, 
from  this  proceeding  men  become  unwilling  to  mark,  unfit  to 
apprehend,  indisposed  to  embrace  any  good  instruction  or  ad- 
vice :  it  maketh  them  indocile  and  intractable,  averse  from 
better  instruction,  pertinacious  in  their  opinions,  and  refractory 
in  their  ways. 

'  Everyman,'  saith  the  wise  man,  '  shall  kiss  his  lips  that 
giveth  a  right  answer :'  but  no  man  surely  will  be  ready  to 
kiss  those  lips  which  are  embittered  with  reproach,  or  defiled 
with  dirty  language. 

It  is  said  of  Pericles,  that  '  with  thundering  and  lightning 


OF  EVIL-SPEAKING  IN  GENERAL. 


419 


he  put  Greece  into  confusion  :'*  such  discourse  may  serve  to 
confound  things,  it  seldom  tendeth  to  compose  them.  If  reason 
will  not  pierce,  rage  will  scarce  avail  to  drive  it  in.f  Satirical 
virulency  may  vex  men  sorely,  but  it  hardly  ever  soundly  con- 
verts them.  «  Few  become  wiser  or  better  by  ill  words.'  Chil- 
dren may  be  frighted  into  compliance  by  loud  and  severe  in- 
crepations ;  but  men  are  to  be  allured  by  rational  persuasion 
backed  with  courteous  usage  :  they  may  be  sweetly  drawn, 
they  cannot  be  violently  driven  to  change  their  judgment  and 
practice.  Whence  that  advice  of  the  Apostle,  '  With  meek- 
ness instruct  those  that  oppose  themselves,'  doth  no  less  savor 
of  wisdom  than  of  goodness. 

Fifthly,  as  for  the  examples  of  extraordinary  persons,  which 
in  some  cases  do  seem  to  authorise  the  practice  of  evil  speak- 
ing, we  may  consider,  that  as  they  had  especial  commission 
enabling  them  to  do  some  things  beyond  ordinary  standing 
rules,  wherein  they  are  not  to  be  imitated ;  as  they  had  espe- 
cial illumination  and  direction,  which  preserved  them  from 
swerving  in  particular  cases  from  truth  and  equity  ;  so  the 
tenor  of  their  life  did  evidence,  that  it  was  the  glory  of  God, 
the  good  of  men,  the  necessity  of  the  case,  which  moved  them 
to  lt.J  And  of  them  also  we  may  observe,  that  in  divers  oc- 
casions, yea  generally,  whenever  only  their  private  credit  or 
interest  were  concerned,  although  grievously  provoked,  they 
did  out  of  meekness,  patience,  and  charity,  wholly  forbear 
reproachful  speech.  Our  Saviour,  who  sometimes  on  special 
reason  in  his  discourses  used  such  harsh  words,  yet,  when  he 
was  most  spitefully  accused,  reproached  and  persecuted,  '  did 
not  open  his  mouth,'  or  return  one  angry  word  :  •  Being  re- 

*  BpouTwv  xai  atnp&inwv  ckvko,  ttjv  'EAAaSa. 

t  Chrys.  in  2  Tim.  ii.  24.  'O  yap  <r(po5pbs  eAcyxos,  Hrav  per'  erieiKelas 
yiverai,  ovt6s  eariv  6  fiaXima  Saxe'tv  Smi^evos-  eeeoTi  yap,  tvtari  f*6Ta  irpa.6- 
t7jtos  Ka.8dtyarj8at  fiaWov,    jucra  dpaaimjros  ^crpexpai. 

|  This  case  is  like  the  other  cases,  wherein  the  practice  of  good 
and  great  men,  although  excusable,  is  not  yet  exemplary  :  as  the 
heroical  acts  of  David,  of  Sampson,  of  Ehud,  of  Phineas,  of  Elias,  of 
Moses  ;  David's  duel,  Sampson's  suicide,  Moses's  slaying  the  Egyp- 
tian, Ehud's  stabbing  the  king  of  Moat),  Elias's  calling  for  fire,  by 
extraordinary  and  peculiar  instinct. 


120 


BARROW. — SERMON  XVI. 


viled,  he  did  not,'  as  St.  Peter,  proposing  his  example  to  us, 
telleth  us,  '  revile  again  ;  suffering,  he  did  not  threaten.'  He 
used  the  softest  language  to  Judas,  to  the  soldiers,  to  Pilate 
and  Herod,  to  the  priests,  &c.  And  the  Apostles,  who  some- 
times inveigh  so  zealously  against  the  opposers  and  perverters  of 
truth,  did  in  their  private  conversation  and  demeanor  strictly 
observe  their  own  rules  of  abstinence  from  reproach  :  '  Being 
reviled  we  bless,  being  persecuted  we  suffer  it ;'  so  doth  St.  Paul 
represent  their  practice.  And  in  reason  we  should  rather  fol- 
low them  in  this  their  extraordinary  sallies  of  practice. 

In  fine,  however  in  some  cases  and  circumstances  the  matter 
may  admit  such  exceptions,  so  that  all  language  disgraceful  to 
our  neighbor  is  not  ever  culpable  ;  yet  the  oases  are  so  few 
and  rare  in  comparison,  the  practice  commonly  so  dangerous 
and  ticklish,  that  worthily  forbearing  to  reproach  doth  bear  the 
style  of  a  general  rule;  and  particularly,  for  clearer  direction, 
we  are  in  the  following  cases  obliged  carefully  to  shun  it ;  or 
in  speaking  about  our  neighbor  we  must  observe  these 
cautions. 

1.  We  should  never  in  severe  terms  inveigh  against  any  man 
without  reasonable  warrant,  or  presuming  on  a  good  call  and 
commission  thereto.  As  every  man  should  not  assume  to  him- 
self the  power  of  administering  justice,  (of  trying,  sentencing, 
and  punishing  offenders,)  so  must  not  every  man  take  on  him 
to  speak  against  those  who  seem  to  do  ill ;  which  is  a  sort  of 
punishment,  including  the  infliction  of  smart  and  damage  on 
the  persons  concerned.  Every  man  hath  indeed  a  commis- 
sion, in  due  place  and  season,  with  discretion  and  moderation 
to  admonish  his  neighbor  offending;  but  otherwise  to  speak  ill 
of  him,  no  private  man  hath  just  right  or  authority  :  and  there- 
fore in  presuming  to  do  it  he  is  disorderly  and  irregular, 
trespassing  beyond  his  bounds,  usurping  an  undue  power  to 
himself. 

2.  We  should  never  speak  ill  of  any  man  without  apparent 
just  cause.  It  must  be  just :  we  must  not  reproach  men  for 
things  innocent  or  indifferent ;  for  not  concurring  in  disputable 
opinions  with  us,  for  not  complying  with  our  humor,  for  not 
serving  our  interest,  for  not  doing  any  thing  to  which  they  are 
not  obliged,  or  for  using  their  liberty  in  any  case  :  it  must  be 


OF  EVIL-SPEAKING  IN  GENERAL. 


421 


at  least  some  considerable  fault,  which  we  can  so  much  as  tax. 
It  must  also  be  clear  and  certain,  notorious  and  palpable  ;  for 
to  speak  ill  on  slender  conjectures,  or  doubtful  suspicions,  is 
full  of  iniquity.  "Oira  ovk  dihaai,  fiXatrQrjfjovai,  '  they  rail  at 
things  which  they  know  not,'  is  part  of  those  wicked  men's 
character,  whom  St.  Jude  doth  so  severely  reprehend.  If 
indeed,  these  conditions  being  wanting,  we  presume  to  reproach 
any  man,  we  do  therein  no  less  than  slander  him  ;  which  to  do 
is  unlawful  in  any  case,  is  in  truth  a  most  diabolical  and  de- 
testable crime.  To  impose  odious  names  and  characters  on  any 
person,  which  he  deserveth  not,  or  without  ground  of  truth,  is 
to  play  the  devil ;  and  hell  itself  scarce  will  own  a  fouler 
practice. 

3.  We  should  not  cast  reproach  on  any  man  without  some  ne- 
cessary reason.  In  charity  (that  charity  which  '  covereth  all  sins,' 
which  '  covereth  a  multitude  of  sins')  we  are  bound  to  connive 
at  the  defects,  and  to  conceal  the  faults  of  our  brethren  ;  to  ex- 
tenuate and  excuse  them,  when  apparent,  so  far  as  we  may  in 
truth  and  equity.  We  must  not  therefore  ever  produce  them 
to  light,  or  prosecute  them  with  severity,  except  very  needful 
occasion  urgeth ;  such  as  is  the  glory  and  service  of  God,  the 
maintenance  of  truth,  the  vindication  of  innocence,  the  preser- 
vation of  public  justice  and  peace,  the  amendment  of  our 
neighbor  himself,  or  securing  others  from  contagion.  Barring 
such  reasons,  (really  being,  not  affectedly  pretended,)  we  are 
bound  not  so  much  as  to  disclose,  as  to  touch  our  neighbor's 
faults  ;  much  more,  not  to  blaze  them  about,  not  to  exaggerate 
them  by  vehement  invectives. 

4.  We  should  never  speak  ill  of  any  man  beyond  measure  : 
be  the  cause  never  so  just,  the  occasion  never  so  necessary,  we 
should  yet  nowise  be  immoderate  therein,  exceeding  the  bounds 
prescribed  by  truth,  equity,  and  humanity.  We  should  never 
speak  worse  of  any  man  whatever  than  he  certainly  deserveth, 
according  to  the  most  favorable  construction  of  his  doings  ; 
never  more  than  the  cause  absolutely  requireth.  We  should 
rather  be  careful  to  fall  short  of  what  in  rigorous  truth  might 
be  said  against  him,  than  in  the  least  to  pass  beyond  it.  The 
best  cause  had  better  seem  to  suffer  a  little  by  our  reservedness 
in  its  defence,  than  any  man  be  wronged  by  our  aspersing  him  ; 


423 


BARROW. — SERMON  XVI. 


for  God,  the  patron  of  truth  and  right,  is  ever  able  to  secure 
them  without  the  succor  of  our  unjust  and  uncharitable  dealing. 
The  contrary  practice  hath  indeed  within  it  a  spice  of  slander, 
that  is,  of  the  worst  iniquity. 

5.  We  must  never  speak  ill  of  any  man  out  of  bad  princi- 
ples, or  for  bad  ends. 

No  sudden  or  rash  anger  should  instigate  us  thereto,  For, 
'  let  all  bitterness,  and  wrath,  and  anger,  and  clamor,  and  evil- 
speaking,  be  put  away  from  you,  with  all  malice,'  is  the 
apostolical  precept :  they  are  all  associates  and  kindred,  which 
are  to  be  cast  away  together.  Such  anger  itself  is  culpable, 
as  a  work  of  the  flesh,  and  therefore  to  be  suppressed;  and  all 
its  brood  therefore  is  also  to  be  smothered  :  the  daughter  of 
such  a  mother  cannot  be  legitimate :  '  The  wrath  of  man 
worketh  not  the  righteousness  of  God.' 

We  must  not  speak  ill  out  of  inveterate  hatred  or  ill-will. 
For  this  murderous,  this  viperous  disposition  should  itself  be 
rooted  out  of  our  hearts ;  whatever  issueth  from  it  cannot  be 
otherwise  than  very  bad ;  it  must  be  a  poisonous  breath  that 
exhaleth  from  that  foul  source. 

We  must  not  be  provoked  thereto  by  any  revengeful  dis- 
position, or  rancorous  spleen,  in  regard  to  any  injuries  or  dis- 
courtesies received.  For,  as  we  must  not  revenge  ourselves,  or 
render  evil  in  any  other  way  ;  so  particularly  not  in  this,  which 
is  commonly  the  special  instance  expressly  prohibited.  '  Ren- 
der not  evil  for  evil,'  saith  St.  Peter,  '  nor  railing  for  railing  ; 
but  contrariwise  bless,'  or  speak  well :  and,  '  Bless  them,' 
saith  our  Lord,  '  which  curse  you  :'  '  Bless,'  saith  St.  Paul, 
'  and  curse  not.' 

We  must  not  also  do  it  out  of  contempt ;  for  we  are  not  to 
slight  our  brethren  in  our  hearts.  No  man  really  (considering 
what  he  is,  whence  he  came,  how  he  is  related,  what  he  is 
capable  of)  can  be  despicable.  Extreme  naughtiness  is  indeed 
contemptible;  but  the  unhappy  person  that  is  engaged  therein 
is  rather  to  be  pitied  than  despised.  However,  charity  bindeth 
us  to  stifle  contemptuous  motions  of  heart,  and  not  to  vent 
them  in  vilifying  expression.  Particularly,  it  is  a  barbarous 
practice  out  of  contempt  to  reproach  persons  for  natural  imper- 
fections, for  meanness  of  condition,  for  unlucky  disasters,  for 


OF  EVIL-SPEAKING  IN  GENERAL. 


any  involuntary  defects :  this  being  indeed  to  reproach  man- 
kind, unto  which  such  things  are  incident;  to  reproach  provi- 
dence, from  the  disposal  whereof  they  do  proceed.  '  Whoso 
mocketh  the  poor  despiseth  his  Maker,'  saith  the  wise  man  ; 
and  the  same  may  be  said  of  him  that  reproachfully  mocketh 
him  that  is  dull  in  parts,  deformed  in  body,  weak  in  health  or 
strength,  or  defective  in  any  such  way. 

Likewise  we  must  not  speak  ill  out  of  envy  :  because  others 
do  excel  us  in  any  good  quality,  or  exceed  us  in  fortune.  To 
harbor  this  base  and  ugly  disposition  in  our  minds  is  unworthy 
of  a  man,  who  should  delight  in  all  good  springing  up  any- 
where, and  befalling  any  man,  naturally  allied  unto  him  ;  it  is 
most  unworthy  of  a  Christian,  who  should  tender  his  brother's 
good  as  his  own,  and  4  rejoice  with  those  that  rejoice.'  From 
thence  to  be  drawn  to  cast  reproach  on  any  man  is  horrible  and 
heinous  wickedness. 

Neither  should  we  ever  use  reproach  as  a  means  of  com- 
passing any  design  we  do  affect  or  aim  at :  it  is  an  unwarrant- 
able engine  of  raising  us  to  wealth,  dignity,  or  repute.  To 
grow  by  the  diminution,  to  rise  by  the  depression,  to  shine  by 
the  eclipse  of  others,  to  build  a  fortune  on  the  ruins  of  our 
neighbor's  reputation,  is  that  which  no  honorable  mind  can 
affect,  no  honest  man  will  endeavor.  Our  own  wit,  courage, 
and  industry,  managed  with  God's  assistance  and  blessing,  are 
sufficient,  and  only  lawful  instruments  of  prosecuting  honest 
enterprises  ;  we  need  not,  we  must  not  instead  of  them  employ 
our  neighbor's  disgrace  :  no  worldly  good  is  worth  purchasing 
at  such  a  rate,  no  project  worth  achieving  by  such  foul  ways. 

Neither  should  we  out  of  malignity,  to  cherish  or  gratify  ill 
humor,  use  this  practice.  It  is  observable  of  some  persons, 
that  not  out  of  any  formed  displeasure,  grudge,  or  particular 
disaffection,  nor  out  of  any  particular  design,  but  merely  out  of 
a  KanotiOeta ,  an  ill  disposition  springing  up  from  nature,  or 
contracted  by  use,  they  are  apt  to  carp  at  any  action,  and  with 
sharp  reproach  to  bite  any  man  that  comes  in  their  way,  there- 
by feeding  and  soothing  that  evil  inclination.  But  as  this  in- 
human and  currish  humor  should  be  corrected  and  extirpated 
from  our  hearts,  so  should  the  issues  thereof  at  our  mouths  be 


4  24 


BARROW. — SERMON  XVI. 


stopped  :  the  bespattering  our  neighbor's  good  name  should 
never  afford  any  satisfaction  or  delight  unto  us. 

Nor  out  of  wantonness  should  we  speak  ill,  for  our  diver- 
tiseraent  or  sport.  For  our  neighbor's  reputation  is  too  great 
and  precious  a  thing  to  be  played  with,  or  offered  up  to  sport ; 
we  are  very  foolish  in  so  disvaluing  it,  very  naughty  in  so  mis- 
using it.  Our  wits  are  very  barren,  our  brains  are  ill  furnished 
with  store  of  knowlege,  if  we  can  find  no  other  matter  of  con- 
versation. 

Nor  out  of  negligence  and  inadvertency  should  we  sputter 
out  reproachful  speech;  shooting  ill  words  at  rovers,  or  not  re- 
garding who  stands  in  our  way.  Among  all  temerities  this  is 
one  of  the  most  noxious,  and  therefore  very  culpable. 

In  fine,  we  should  never  speak  concerning  our  neighbor 
from  any  other  principle  than  charity,  or  to  any  other  intent 
but  what  is  charitable  ;  such  as  tendeth  to  his  good,  or  at  least 
is  consistent  therewith.  '  Let  all  your  things,'  saith  St.  Paul, 
be  done  in  charity :'  and  words  are  most  of  the  things  we  do 
concerning  our  neighbor,  wherein  we  may  express  charity.  In 
all  our  speeches  therefore  touching  him,  we  should  plainly 
show  that  we  have  a  care  of  his  reputation,  that  we  tender  his 
interest,  that  we  even  desire  his  content  and  repose.  Even 
when  reason  and  need  do  so  require,  that  we  should  disclose 
and  reprehend  his  faults,  we  may,  we  should,  by  the  manner 
and  scope  of  our  speech,  signify  thus  much.  Which  rule, 
were  it  observed,  if  we  should  never  speak  ill  otherwise  than 
out  of  charity,  surely  most  ill-speaking  would  be  cut  off ;  most, 
I  fear,  of  our  tattling  about  others,  much  of  our  gossipping 
would  be  marred. 

Indeed,  so  far  from  bitter  or  sour  our  language  should  be, 
that  it  ought  to  be  sweet  and  pleasant;  so  far  from  rough  and 
harsh,  that  it  should  be  courteous  and  obliging;  so  far  from 
signifying  wrath,  ill-will,  contempt,  or  animosity  that  it  should 
express  tender  affection,  good  esteem,  sincere  respect  toward 
our  brethren ;  and  be  apt  to  produce  the  like  in  them  toward 
us :  the  sense  of  them  should  be  grateful  to  the  heart ;  the 
very  sound  and  accent  of  them  should  be  delightful  to  the  ear. 
Every  one  should  '  please  his  neighbor  for  his  good  to  edifi- 


OF  EVIL-SPEAKING  IN  GENERAL. 


425 


cation.'  Our  words  should  always  be  ev  \upin,  '  with  grace, 
seasoned  with  salt;'  they  should  have  the  grace  of  courtesy, 
they  should  be  seasoned  with  the  salt  of  discretion,  so  as  to  be 
sweet  and  savory  to  the  hearers.  Commonly  ill  language  is  a 
certain  sign  of  inward  enmity  and  ill-will.  Good-will  is  wont 
to  show  itself  in  good  terms  ;  it  clotheth  even  its  grief  hand- 
somely, and  its  displeasure  carrieth  favor  in  its  face ;  its  rigor 
is  civil  and  gentle,  tempered  with  pity  for  the  faults  and  errors 
which  it  disliketh,  with  the  desire  of  their  amendment  and 
recovery  whom  it  reprehendeth.  It  would  inflict  no  more  evil 
than  is  necessary  ;  it  would  cure  its  neighbor's  disease  without- 
exasperating  his  patience,  troubling  his  modesty,  or  impairing 
his  credit.  As  it  always  judgeth  candidly,  so  it  never  con- 
demned extremely. 

II.  But  so  much  for  the  explication  of  this  precept,  and  the 
directive  part  of  our  discourse.  I  shall  now  briefly  propound 
some  inducements  to  the  observance  thereof. 

1.  Let  us  consider  that  nothing  more  than  railing  and  re- 
viling is  opposite  to  the  nature,  and  inconsistent  with  the  tenor 
of  our  religion  :  the  which,  as  even  a  heathen*  did  observe  of 
it,  nil  nisi  justum  suadet,  et  Ime,  '  doth  recommend  nothing 
but  what  is  very  just  and  mild  ;'  which  propoundeth  the  prac- 
tices of  charity,  meekness,  patience,  peaceableness,  moderation, 
equity,  alacrity,  or  good  humor,  as  its  principal  laws,  and  de- 
clareth  them  the  chief  fruits  of  the  divine  Spirit  and  grace  : 
which  chargeth  us  to  curb  and  compose  all  our  passions  ;  more 
particularly  to  restrain  and  repress  anger,  animosity,  envy, 
malice,  and  such  like  dispositions,  as  the  fruits  of  carnality  and 
corrupt  lust  :  which  consequently  drieth  up  all  the  sources,  or 
dammeth  up  the  sluices  of  bad  language.  As  it  doth  above 
all  things  oblige  us  to  bear  no  ill-will  in  our  hearts,  so  it  charg- 
eth us  to  vent  none  with  our  mouths. 

2.  It  is  therefore  often  expressly  condemned  and  prohibited 
as  evil.  It  is  the  property  of  the  wicked,  a  character  of  those 
who  '  work  iniquity,'  to  '  whet  their  tongues  like  a  sword, 
and  bend  their  bows  to  shoot  their  arrows,  even  bitter  words.' 

3.  No  practice  hath  more  severe  punishments  denounced  to 

*  Ammian.  Marcell. 


426 


BARROW. — SERMON  XVI. 


it  than  this.  The  railer  (and  it  is  indeed  a  very  proper  and  fit 
punishment  for  him,  he  being  exceedingly  bad  company)  is  to  be 
banished  out  of  all  good  society ;  thereto  St.  Paul  adjudgeth 
him  :  '  I  have,'  saith  he, '  now  written  unto  you,  not  to  keep 
company,  if  any  man  that  is  called  a  brother  be  a  fornicator, 
or  covetous,  or  an  idolater,  or  a  railer,  or  a  drunkard,  or  an 
extortioner,  with  such  an  one  not  to  eat.'  Ye  see  what  com- 
pany the  railer  hath  in  the  text,  and  with  what  a  crew  of  people 
he  is  coupled  :  but  no  good  company  he  is  allowed  otherwhere  ; 
every  good  Christian  should  avoid  him  as  a  blot,  and  a  pest  of 
conversation  :  and  finally  he  is  sure  to  be  excluded  from  the 
blessed  society  above  in  heaven  ;  for  '  neither  thieves,  nor 
covetous,  nor  drunkards,  nor  revilers,  nor  extortioners,  shall  iu- 
herit  the  kingdom  of  God:'  and,  'without,'  (without  the  hea- 
venly city)  '  are  dogs,'  saith  St.  John  in  his  Revelation,  that 
is,  those  chiefly  who  out  of  currish  spite  or  malignity  do  fro- 
wardly  bark  at  their  neighbors,  or  cruelly  bite  them  with  re- 
proachful language. 

4.  If  we  look  on  such  language  in  its  own  nature,  what  is  it 
but  a  symptom  of  afoul,  a  weak,  a  disordered  and  distempered 
mind?  It  is  the  smoke  of  inward  rage  and  malice:  it  is  a 
stream  that  cannot  issue  from  a  sweet  spring  ;  it  is  a  storm  that 
cannot  bluster  out  of  a  calm  region.  «  The  words  of  the  pure 
are  pleasant  words,'  as  the  wise  man  saith. 

5.  This  practice  doth  plainly  signify  low  spirit,  ill  breeding, 
and  bad  manners ;  and  thence  misbecometh  any  wise,  any 
honest,  any  honorable  person,  ltagreeth  to  children,  who  are 
unapt  and  unaccustomed  to  deal  in  matters  considerable,  to 
squabble  ;  to  women  of  meanest  rank,  (apt  by  nature  or  custom 
to  be  transported  with  passion,)  to  scold.  In  our  modern  lan- 
guages it  is  termed  '  villany,'  as  being  proper  for  rustic  boors, 
or  men  of  coarsest  education  and  employment ;  who,  having 
their  minds  debased  by  being  conversant  in  meanest  affairs,  do 
vent  their  sorry  passions,  and  bicker  about  their  petty  concern- 
ments in  such  strains ;  who  also,  being  not  capable  of  a  fair  re- 
putation, or  sensible  of  disgrace  to  themselves,  do  little  value 
the  credit  of  others,  or  care  for  aspersing  it.  But  such  lan- 
guage is  unworthy  of  those  persons,  and  cannot  easily  be  drawn 
from  them  who  are  wont  to  exercise  their  thoughts  about  nobler 


OF  EVIL- SPEAKING  IN  GENERAL. 


427 


matters,  who  are  versed  in  affairs  manageable  only  by  calm 
deliberation  and  fair  persuasion,  not  by  impetuous  and  pro- 
vocative rudeness ;  the  which  do  never  work  otherwise  on  mas- 
culine souls,  than  so  as  to  procure  disdain  and  resistance.  Such 
persons,  knowing  the  benefit  of  a  good  name,  being  wont  to  pos- 
sess a  good  repute,  prizing  their  own  credit  as  a  considerable 
good,  will  never  be  prone  to  bereave  others  of  the  like  by  op- 
probrious speech.  A  noble  enemy  will  never  speak  of  his  enemy 
in  bad  terms. 

We  may  farther  consider  that  all  wise,  all  honest,  all  in- 
genuous persons  have  an  aversation  from  ill  speaking,  and  cannot 
entertain  it  with  any  acceptance  or  complacence;  that  only  ill- 
natured,  unworthy,  and  naughty  people  are  its  willing  auditors, 
or  do  abet  it  with  applause.  The  good  man,  in  the  fifteenth 
Psalm,  non  accipit  opprobrium,  '  doth  not  take  up,'  or  accept, 
'  a  reproach  against  his  neighbor  :'  but  '  a  wicked  doer,'  saith 
the  wise  man,  'giveth  heed  to  false  lips,  and  a  liar  giveth  ear 
to  a  naughty  tongue.'  And  what  reasonable  man  will  do  that 
which  is  disgustful  to  the  wise  and  good,  is  grateful  only  to  the 
foolish  and  baser  sort  of  men  ;  I  pretermit,  that  using  this  sort 
of  language  doth  incapacitate  a  man  for  to  benefit  his  neighbor, 
and  det'eateth  his  endeavors  for  his  edification,  disparaging  a 
good  cause,  prejudicing  the  defence  of  truth,  obstructing  the 
effects  of  good  instruction  and  wholesome  reproof ;  as  we  did 
before  remark  and  declare.  Farther, 

6.  He  that  useth  this  kind  of  speech  doth,  as  harm  and  trou- 
ble others,  so  create  many  great  inconveniences  and  mischiefs 
to  himself  thereby.  Nothing  so  inflameth  the  wrath  of  men,  so 
provoketh  their  enmity,  so  breedeth  lasting  hatred  and  spite,  as 
do  contumelious  words.  They  are  often  called  swords  and 
arrows ;  and  as  such  they  pierce  deeply,  and  cause  most  griev- 
ous smart ;  which  men  feeling  are  enraged,  and  accordingly 
will  strive  to  requite  them  in  the  like  manner,  and  in  all  other 
obvious  ways  of  revenge.  Hence  strife,  clamor  and  tumult, 
care,  suspicion  and  fear,  danger  and  trouble,  sorrow  and  regret, 
do  seize  on  the  reviler  ;  and  he  is  sufficiently  punished  for  this 
dealing.  No  man  can  otherwise  than  live  in  perpetual  fear  of 
reciprocal  like  usage  from  him,  whom  he  is  conscious  of  having 
so  abused.    Whence,  if  not  justice  or  charity  toward  others, 


BARROW. — SERMON  XVI. 


yet  love  and  pity  of  ourselves  should  persuade  us  to  forbear  it 
as  disquietful,  incommodious,  and  mischievous  to  us. 

We  should  indeed  certainly  enjoy  much  love,  much  concord, 
much  quiet,  we  should  live  in  great  safety  and  security,  we 
should  be  exempted  from  much  care  and  fear,  if  we  would  re- 
strain ourselves  from  abusing  and  offending  our  neighbor  in  this 
kind  :  being  conscious  of  so  just  and  innocent  demeanor  toward 
him,  we  should  converse  with  him  in  a  pleasant  freedom  and 
confidence,  not  suspecting  any  bad  language  or  ill  usage  from 
him. 

7.  Hence  with  evidently  good  reason  is  he  that  useth  such 
language  called  a  '  fool :'  and  he  that  abstaineth  from  it  is  com- 
mended as  wise.  '  A  fool's  lips  enter  into  contention,  and  his 
mouth  calleth  for  strokes.'  '  A  fool's  mouth  is  his  destruction, 
and  his  lips  are  the  snare  of  his  soul.'  '  He  that  refraineth  his 
tongue  is  wise.'  '  In  the  tongue  of  the  wise  is  health.'  '  He 
that  keepeth  his  lips  keepeth  his  life  ;  but  he  that  openeth  wide 
his  mouth  (that  is  in  evil-speaking,  gaping  with  clamor  and  ve- 
hemency)  shall  have  destruction.'  '  The  words  of  a  wise  man's 
mouth  are  gracious;  but  the  lips  of  a  fool  will  swallow  up  him- 
self.' '  Death  and  life  are  in  the  power  of  the  tongue  ;  and 
they  that  love  it  shall  eat  the  fruit  thereof ;'  that  is,  of  the 
one  or  the  other,  answerably  to  the  kind  of  speech  they  choose. 

In  fine,  very  remarkable  is  that  advice,  or  resolution  of  the 
grand  point  concerning  the  best  way  of  living  happily,  in  the 
psalmist :  '  What  man  is  he  that  desireth  life,  and  loveth  many 
days,  that  he  may  see  good  ?  Keep  thy  tongue  from  evil,  and 
thy  lips  from  speaking  guile.'  Abstinence  from  ill-speaking 
he  seemeth  to  propose  as  the  first  step  toward  the  fruition  of  a 
durably-happy  life. 

8.  Lastly,  we  may  consider  that  it  is  a  grievous  perverting 
the  design  of  speech,  (that  excellent  faculty,  which  so  much 
distinguisheth  us  from,  so  highly  advanceth  us  above  other 
creatures,)  to  use  it  to  the  defaming  and  disquieting  our  neigh- 
bor. It  was  given  us  as  an  instrument  of  beneficial  commerce 
and  delectable  conversation  ;  that  with  it  we  might  assist  and 
advise,  might  cheer  and  comfort  one  another  :  we  therefore  in 
employing  it  to  the  disgrace,  vexation,  damage  or  prejudice  in 
any  kind,  of  our  neighbor,  do  foully  abuse  it;  and  so  doing, 


OF  EVIL-SPEAKING  IN  GENERAL. 


4'2<» 


render  ourselves  indeed  worse  than  dumb  beasts:  for  better 
far  it  were  that  we  could  say  nothing,  than  that  we  should 
speak  ill. 

Now  the  God  of  grace  and  peace  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. 


END  OF  VOL.  I. 


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handsome  volumes. 

AN    ADDRESS    FROM   A  CLERGYMAN 

TO  HIS  PARISHIONERS.  Sixth  Edition.  With  a  form  of  Morning  and 
Evening  Prayer.  By  the  Rev.  Dr.  Valpy.  4s.  6d.  bds.— Contents : 

Of  God — the  Son  of  God — the  Holy  Ghost— the  Trinity — Read  the  Scrip- 
tures— Incarnation  of  Jesus  Christ — Doctrines  of  Jesus  Christ — Resurrection 
— Redemption — Justification — Faith — Works — Works  without  Faith — Faith 
without  works — Union  of  Faith  and  Works  —  Merit  and  Reward — Humility — - 
Influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit — Repentance — Regeneration,  Renewal,  Conver- 
sion— Delay  of  Conversion — Our  F^ndeavors — Predestination,  Free  Will — 
Prayer — Public  Worship — Family  Prayer — Sacrament — Forgiveness  of  Inju- 
ries— -Veneration  to  the  Name  of  God  —  Relative  Duties — Exhortation  to 
Piety — Prospect  in  Life — Use  of  time — Death. 


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