[]

THE LETTERS.

[]

THE Occaſional Miſcellany, IN PROSE and VERSE.

CONSISTING OF, A VARIETY of LETTERS, Written originally to a YOUNG GENTLEMAN Who DESIGN'D to go into HOLY ORDERS; With a SPECIMEN of SACRED POETRY and SERMONS.

Omne tulit Punctum qui miſcuit utile dulci. HOR.

VOL. I.

By JOHN WALLIS, A. M. late of Queen's College, Oxford.

NEWCASTLE UPON TYNE: Printed by JOHN GOODING, on the Si [...]. 1748.

TO Her Grace the Dutcheſs OF RICHMOND and LENOX.

[]
Madam,

TO fly to the BEAUTIFUL, the GOOD, and the GREAT, as to GUARDIAN-ANGELS, for Protection, has been the Practice of humble Adventurers for Fame in all Ages; [ii]but which of theſe Virtues out ſhines the other in your GRACE, requires a nicer Judgment than mine to determine. I can only diſtinguiſh, that they give a kind of Glory and Luſtre to each other: I can only ſay, they are ſo eminently conſpicuous together, as to make your GRACE'S Perſon ſeem to the wondering Eye like a Paradiſe, and your Soul a Cherubim within to guard it. I can only [iii]diſcover to the World a Part of your GRACE'S Excellencies, and that too according to the Meaſure of my own Weakneſs. Like thoſe who have ſurvey'd ſome Celeſtial Luminary or Conſtellation, I can only tell of a new and ſhining World above me, but not all the Riches and Glories of the Place.

THERE are ſome of your GRACE'S Virtues, of [iv]a publick Nature, ſuch as Candour, Benevolence, and Generoſity, which diſplay themſelves in ſuch an amiable Variety of Lights, that not to perceive them, or to deny them to be YOUR'S, would be as ungrateful as not to perceive, or to deny the SUN'S Exiſtence, at the ſame Time that we feel its beneficial and extenſive Influence. The noble Manner in which your GRACE ſeems to enjoy Riches, [v]would almoſt tempt one to think, that FORTUNE, if I may ſo ſpeak, had conſulted REASON when ſhe beſtow'd them on YOU, ſince the World has more Cauſe to wiſh you the Addition, than envy you the Abundance.

— For Merit hence is heard
Amidſt its Bluſhes; dawning Arts ariſe;
The gloomy Clouds, which Ignorance or Fear
Spread o'er the Paths of Virtue, are diſpell'd;
[vi]Servility retires, and ev'ry Heart
With publick Cares is warm'd.—

YOUR GRACE'S Encouragement of Learning is the more extraordinary at a Time when many think they but too well recompence an Author, if they honour him with a barren Praiſe.—I have the publick Voice to atteſt what I have now advanced concerning your GRACE, and therefore, I hope, I ſhall not be ſuſpected of uttering thoſe [vii]obliging Falſhoods, which many of our Moderns can do without bluſhing.

AND here, MADAM, I am proud that I cannot flatter, if I ſay YOUR private Virtues have deſerv'd to be ſet as an Example to a leſs-degenerate, leſs-tainted Age. They approach ſo near to Singularity in ours, that I can hardly make a Panegyrick to your GRACE, without a Satyr [viii]on many others: And therefore this is a Theme that I muſt caſt in Shades, and leave your GRACE to the Teſtimony and Satiſfaction of your own Mind, which, tho' a ſilent Encomium, is ſtill the beſt. This epiſtolary Addreſs keeps its Diſtance, and goes no farther than my Heart. There it is I feel all the Tranſport and Joy imaginable, when I ſee Virtue encourag'd, and [ix]Learning patronis'd and rewarded by your GRACE'S noble Family. — That it may long enjoy the full Vintage of its flowing Honours, is the ſincere and earneſt Wiſh of,

Madam,
Your Grace's Moſt obedient, Moſt humble, and Moſt devoted Servant, JOHN WALLIS.

THE PREFACE.

[]
Written by a FRIEND.

THE Author of theſe Volumes is too well convinc'd of his own Weakneſs, to be pleas'd with any thing he has written; and he has ſo little of the Self-Opinion of a Writer in him, that he has impos'd the Task upon another to ſay ſomething concerning [ii]his Work. After a Review of ſo conſiderable a Body of Men as the Clergy, he has modeſtly attempted to ſhew, why the Number of good Orators among them is ſo inconſiderable; why ſo few, ſo very few, of thoſe who are bred to the Church, become Maſters of the Force and Charms of Eloquence.

THO' he may not have pointed out all the ſeveral Reaſons that might be aſſign'd for it, yet in Obedience to a young Gentleman's Commands, who deſign'd to go into HOLY ORDERS, he has very freely let him into his Sentiments about every Particular relating to [iii]this Subject. And he enter'd the more boldly upon the Enquiry, from this Conſideration, that no Embelliſhment of Stile could be expected from him in a Letter. Epiſtolary Writing muſt reſemble a natural Converſation, tho' it may be a little better than what the Generality of People are ſuppos'd to ſpeak Extempore, as a PICTURE may be like, tho' handſomer than the Original.

IN a Diſquiſition of ſo much Importance, he thought it no ill Method to exhibit the moſt material Accompliſhments requir'd in a DIVINE, and the Blemiſhes he ought [iv]carefully to beware of, and to ſet in the moſt conſpicuous Point of View obvious Examples for Illuſtrationſake. He has endeavour'd to produce ſuch Inſtances of Offenders, both in Eloquence and Morals, as may convince any impartial Perſon, that, by proper Means, Coxcomb after Coxcomb may be gently led off the ſacred Stage, and perſuaded to part with every glaring Particularity which drew them into the Miniſtry or the Pulpit to be laugh'd at. Some Men have a ſtrange Inclination to branch out into Extremes, and will be dilating themſelves into the Ridiculous, unleſs ſome benevolent Hand takes the [v]Trouble to prune their Luxuriances, to pare away the Redundancies of Fancy, till they are left in the becoming Simplicity of Action and Delivery.

HAD ſome of our modern Preachers but the leaſt Spark of Emulation in them, they would bluſh to find the little Progreſs they have made in the Study of Eloquence, at an Age in which many others have ſucceeded ſo well, as to be able to give Sweetneſs to the Eye, Charm to the Tongue, and Grace to Motion, and to point their Arguments with all the Life and Spirit, with all the Edge and Flame, that Wit, [vi]or Judgment, or Example, could give them.

'TIS ſtrange, indeed, to ſee how differently the VANITY of Preachers runs. 'Tis the Boaſt of many a one, of but a raw Fancy, and untaught unpractis'd Ear, which has not had an Opportunity to form itſelf, and become truly muſical, that by his Genius alone, and a natural Rapidity of Stile and Thought, and an elaborate Freedom and Facility of Action, he is able to carry all the Affections of his Hearers before him: Others again, with a wonderous affected Air, liſp in the Pulpit as in their Cradles; and their [vii]pretty ſtammering Tongues, which nothing beſides their Ignorance can excuſe, ſpeak continually in wretched Pun and Quibble: And even a later Race, ſcarce free of this Infirmity, and aiming at a falſe Sublime, with crowded Simile and mix'd Metaphor, become rather ridiculous in endeavouring to diſcover the Pains they have taken to be oratorical.

THE Way of Form and Method in many of the Sermons we hear preach'd, has ſo little Force towards the winning our Attention, that 'tis apter to tire us, than the Metre of the old Ballad of The Children in [viii]the Wood. We no ſooner hear the Text given out, the Subject divided and ſubdivided, (with firſt of the firſt, and ſo forth, as Order requires than inſtantly we begin a Strife with Nature, which otherwiſe might ſurprize us in the ſoft Fetters of Sleep; to the great Diſgrace of the Preacher, and Scandal of the Audience.

THE Manner of dividing a Diſcourſe into plain FIRSTS and SECONDS only, is of late grown ſo much out of Faſhion, I think, that 'tis the unpoliſh'd Country-Orator alone almoſt, who preſents his Audience with a DIVISIBLE DISCOURSE [ix]The well-bred Court-Divine exhorts in POLITE ESSAY, and is aſham'd to bring his ſimple TWOS and THREES concerning HELL-TORMENTS before a faſhionable Aſſembly.

THE Truth of all this may eaſily be apprehended by thoſe who know any thing of the preſent State of Pulpit-Eloquence, or are in the leaſt fitted to judge of the Manner of the common Preachers of the Times.

WHOEVER has been an Obſerver of Action and Grace in Preaching, muſt of Neceſſity have diſcover'd [x]the great Difference in this Reſpect, between ſuch Perſons as have had the Aſſiſtance of Nature and a ſimple rude Education only, and ſuch as have had the Advantage of forming themſelves under the beſt Maſters at OXFORD or CAMBRIDGE. There are ſome Men, indeed, ſo happily form'd by Nature herſelf, that with the greateſt Simplicity or Rudeneſs of Education, they have ſtill ſomething of a natural Grace and Comelineſs in their Action and Delivery: And there are others of a better Education, who by a wrong Aim, and injudicious Affectation of Grace, are of all People the fartheſt remov'd [xi]from it. 'Tis undeniable, however, that the Perfection of Grace in Preaching can be found only among the People of a liberal Education. And even among the graceful of this kind, thoſe ſtill are found the gracefulleſt, who early in their Youth have learn'd their Exerciſes under the beſt and ableſt Maſters, ſuch as a§ FOTHERGILL or a RUTHERFORTH.

'TIS remark'd, that by the Help of Imitation, and the Force of Example merely, ſuch a Comelineſs [x] [...] [xi] [...] [xii]of Language and Delivery is acquir'd, with ſuch apt Motions and Freedom of Action, as on all ordinary Occaſions may enable a Man to demean himſelf prettily enough in the Pulpit: But when, upon farther Occaſion, Trial is made in an extraordinary Way; when Sermons of the genteeler kind are to be preached, 'twill eaſily appear who of the Preachers have been form'd by the moſt excellent Rudiments and Maſters; and who, on the other Side, have wanted the Opportunity and Means of forming themſelves after the better Models. Methinks, I can diſtinguiſh the Man of liberal Education, and pregnant Genius, [xiii]by the fine Drapery, and beautiful Colouring of his Stile, which always has a certain Fullneſs without Groſſneſs, is gentle, yet lively and ſtrong, and ſuch that its Excellency lies in its equally partaking a moderate Share of both kinds: I obſerve 'tis attended with a Colouring which appears handſome, not from the Daubing of Paint, but the Fluſh of Health.

I AM ſenſible that other Topicks, than what my Friend's Letters are upon, would have been more to the Liking of ſome People. For Human Nature is ſo form'd, that he [xiv]who flatters Men for his own Intereſt, pleaſes more, than he who has no View but Publick Benefit. And ſome Men there are of ſo confus'd a Thought, and ſo irregularly form'd within themſelves, that 'tis no more than natural for them to be diſpleas'd, and to find Fault with the beſt-natur'd and moſt benevolent Performances; but about ſuch our Author need not be under the leaſt Concern, as to what their Sentiments of him may be, ſo long as he has the Countenance and Encouragement of the moſt worthy of his Profeſſion.—A Man that ſhould purſue Learning even with the diſintereſted [xv]Spirit of a* TERIBAZUS, would need more than all the Abilities [xvi]of that noble PERSIAN to convince the worthleſs Part of the [xvii]World of his Diſcretion, unleſs he had made ſome Improvement in the Pleaſures of the Palate, in Wealth and Luxury.

IT will evidently appear, that from the Beginning of this epiſtolatory Work he has vary'd his Stile according to the Nature of the Subject [xviii]he is upon, and has taken the Liberty now and then to depart a little from the Courſe of it, that he might introduce a greater Variety of Sentiments, indulge his Correſpondent with agreeable Digreſſions, to entertain and relieve his Juvenile Mind, whoſe Improvement, Pleaſure, and Inſtruction, he had ſolely in View.

WHATEVER ſome Men may think, the Letters are real, and not preciſe and formal Treatiſes, deſign'd for the Preſs; tho' 'tis become indeed ſo common a Practice among Authors, to feign a Correſpondency, and give the Title of [xix]Private Letters, to Pieces addreſs'd to the Publick, that I ſhould not at all wonder, if ſome People look'd upon theſe Epiſtles merely as fictitious; like thoſe of SENECA to his Friend LUCILIUS, or thoſe of ancient Sophiſts, Grammarians, or Rhetoricians.

IT will be expected, perhaps, that I ſhould ſay ſomething with regard to the POEM of THE ROYAL PENITENT, and THE EXHORTATION: The Deſign of theſe is to ſhew the Advantage that SACRED has over PROPHANE POETRY. The Treaſures of it are almoſt infinite; and it fares with thoſe that [xx]ſtudy it, as with a Traveller, when he aſcends a riſing Ground: every new Step enlarges his Horizon, and preſents new Countries, new Pleaſures to his Eye. Our Northern Iſland will in Time, I hope, burn with as many Altars to the SACRED MUSE, as did formerly in CYPRUS, DELPHOS, or any of thoſe warmer GRECIAN Climates, to VENUS and APOLLO.

THE SUBSCRIBERS NAMES.

[]
A
B
C
D
E
F
G
H
I
K
L
M
N
O
P
R
S
T
V.
W
Y

LETTER I.

[]
DEAR SIR,

I AM glad to hear of your Reſolution to enter into the Service of GOD; you could not poſſibly chuſe a better Maſter, provided you are but ſufficiently qualified to ſerve ſuch a Maſter well, and to acquit yourſelf with Honour in the Exerciſe of the miniſterial Office. All the Duties and Qualifications which are requiſite to the Paſtoral Charge, ſeem to me to be ſummon'd up in theſe few Words of the Apoſtle St PAUL to [2]TIMOTHY;— * Study to ſhew thyſelf approv'd unto GOD, a WORKMAN that needeth not be aſhamed, rightly dividing the WORD of TRUTH.’—For by being approved unto GOD, does not probably ſignify more than the pleaſing him, fearing, loving, and honouring him does; that is, by leading a religious and virtuous Life, according to the Rules of the Goſpel; thus APELLES is ſaid to be approv'd in CHRIST, and he is ſaid to be the [...], the good, the upright, or approv'd Man; not he who commendeth himſelf, but whom the LORD§ commendeth. By being a Workman that needeth not be aſhamed, I take to be meant ſuch an one who is ſkilful in his Profeſſion, one that is qualify'd with competent Learning and Skill for the Diſcharge of the Paſtoral Office; for a Miniſter that wants theſe Qualifications had need to be aſhamed, becauſe 'tis a very great Shame for any Workman whatſoever to work or practiſe in that Profeſſion or Calling which he does not underſtand; for a Man cannot [3]have the Face ſo much as to excuſe his Ignorance in that Matter which he profeſſes to know. By rightly dividing the Word of Truth, I underſtand the teaching ſound and orthodox Doctrine, the interpreting the Scripture truly and genuinely, without heretical, falſe, erroneous, or whimſical Gloſſes, which St PAUL does ſo often caution againſt in many Places of his EPISTLES. For dividing the WORD ſignifies teaching or interpreting it, being a Metaphor probably taken from the JEWISH Sections or Diviſions of the LAW, one Diviſion of which was read and commented upon every Sabbath-Day; ſo that to divide the WORD, came to ſignify the interpreting, commenting, or preaching upon ſuch a Diviſion of it.

A GOOD Life then, according to the APOSTLE, is a Duty which is particularly incumbent upon us of the Clergy;—we muſt ſtudy to approve ourſelves unto GOD. Colours artfully ſpread upon Canvas may entertain the Eye, but never affect the Heart; and he, who takes no Care to add to the natural Graces of his Eloquence any excellent [4]Qualities, may be allow'd ſtill to amuſe, as a PICTURE, but not to triumph over the Affections of his Auditors. The Eloquence of a bad Man is ſo involv'd in Smoke, that it does not appear in half its Beauty; but that of a good Man ſhews itſelf in ſuch a Variety of correſponding agreeable Lights, that it ſhines, as it were, in an univerſal Blaze; his Sermons receive a Luſtre from his Life, and his Delivery, tho' not ſo graceful as that of a TILLOTSON, has however the Power of charming. Without this irradiating Power, the proudeſt Divine ought to know, whatever he may think to the contrary, that his fineſt Sentiments, both in his Pulpit-Harangues, and in common Converſation, are uninform'd and dead. 'Tis the good, the upright, the approved Man only can deliver his Diſcourſe or his Opinion with Dignity, can rouſe a deſponding, or check an outrageous Sinner; can chaſtiſe the Enormities of the Age, or applaud Virtue, Innocence, and Integrity. For how can the vicious Preacher be warm in exhorting to Devotion? How can he be vehement in reclaiming the Reprobate? How can be gracefully [5]recommend Piety and Virtue? How can he be ſucceſsful in ſoothing the afflicted or deſponding Chriſtian? 'Tis impoſſible that a Hearer ſhould ever be impreſs'd with Sorrow, with Hatred, with Deteſtation of Sin, with Dread of Puniſhment; 'tis impoſſible to move him to Penitence, to Tears, and Contrition, unleſs the Preacher ſhall appear poſſeſs'd of all theſe good Diſpoſitions which he aims to awaken in others. A wicked Clergyman is a ridiculous Character; there is never a SUNDAY he goes to Church, but his Congregation are Witneſſes of his Folly and Impudence; he never aſcends the ROSTRUM, but he undergoes a ſevere Trial, and every Time he reads PRAYERS 'tis renew'd. For there is ſcarcely any one who hears him that has not a quicker, a more piercing Eye to the Defects of his Life, than the Beauties of his Delivery; ſo that of whatſoever Complection his Immoralities may be, they caſt a Cloud over all his Excellencies. I muſt own, indeed, he that hath made but one falſe Step, or committed one ſingle Error in Life, is not immediately pronounc'd a Stranger to Virtue and Goodneſs; the good-natured [6]World always throws the Mantle of Charity over it, becauſe 'tis impoſſible for frail Man to be free from all Fault. I have known it an Advantage to many that they have committed Miſtakes in their firſt ſetting out in the World, becauſe they have thus improv'd their Caution and Prudence; and the Remembrance of former Miſcarriages, has put them upon repairing little Slips with extraordinary Succeſs. To deſire, indeed, to be free from all Fault, whilſt we are frail Men, is an extravagant Pitch of Arrogance; and as often to ſtumble againſt the ſame Stone, and not to learn Caution, even when the Event chaſtiſes our Raſhneſs, is even far beneath the Character of a Man.

As there is nothing ſo diſtaſteful to an Audience as a bad Clergyman, ſo there is nothing they ſo much adore as a good one. They are ſtruck with the Beauty of INWARD CHARACTER, the Harmony and Numbers of the HEART, the juſt Regulation of the AFFECTIONS, which form the Manners of an ORATOR.

[7]I SHALL therefore enter into a more particular Diſcuſſion of thoſe Virtues, or moral Qualifications, which the ROMAN Orator ſtiles the HANDMAIDS of ELOQUENCE; and which we of this Profeſſion are under an indiſpenſible Obligation to practiſe, if we would approve ourſelves unto GOD, or our Hearers, as eloquent DIVINES.

THE firſt Virtue I ſhall mention, as more particularly neceſſary for us to practiſe, is HUMILITY. There is not, indeed, any Degree of Meanneſs in the Paſtoral Office which ſhould engage Clergymen to be more condeſcenſive than others; for they have rather Reaſon to value themſelves upon the Dignity of it. But ſuch is the Nature of their Employ, that it being their Buſineſs to aſſiſt and inſtruct Perſons of all Ranks and Qualities, as well the POOR as the RICH, 'tis impoſſible, without a conſiderable Degree of Humility and Condeſcenſion, that they ſhould, in any tolerable Meaſure, perform their Duty. We muſt with as much Sincerity and Application inſtruct the pooreſt Child in our Pariſh in the Principles of [8]Religion, as if we had in Charge the Son of CAESAR. We muſt with as great Readineſs viſit in their Sickneſs the poor Almſman and Beggar in their ſqualid Cotrage, as we do thoſe great Perſons that lie expiring in Pomp and Splendor. 'Tis an intolerable Arrogance for us, upon a great Preferment, to put on a Mein of Grandeur and a ſupercilious Carriage, and to deſpiſe thoſe poorer Labourers in the Goſpel, who have met with a leſs bountiful Reward. If any Clergyman were to ſet a Value upon himſelf, it ſhould be upon the conſcientious Diſcharge of his Office, for the ELDER only that ruleth well is worthy of DOUBLE HONOUR; for the Church muſt never value herſelf upon her Patrimony, becauſe her beſt and pureſt Ages were when ſhe inherited nothing but Perſecution; and we find in Scripture an Abundance of Commendations and Bleſſings upon good and faithful Paſtors, but it is for feeding the SHEEP, and not for the WEIGHT of their FLEECE. And it is as great a Fault in a Clergyman to be proud of great Parts and Learning, not only becauſe theſe are the Giſts of GOD as well [9]as other Things, but becauſe theſe Qualifications, when accompanied with Pride, do very little good, nay, commonly a great deal of Miſchief in GOD's Church; for the learnedeſt Men, tho' good, are not always the moſt ſucceſsful Paſtors; tho' PAUL plants, and APOLLOS waters, yet it is GOD that gives the Increaſe; a painful and induſtrious, tho' leſs learned Miniſter, may gain more Souls to CHRIST than the moſt learned GAMALIELS; for oftentimes poor ignorant Wretches, which ſtand unaffected by all the rational Strength of ſome great Doctors of the Law, are rous'd up to Repentance, and a Senſe of Religion, by the weak Performances of ſome of the meaneſt of the Sons of the Prophets.

THERE is a pretty remarkable Story of a COUNTRY CLERGYMAN, which, as perhaps you have not heard, I ſhall here inſert, and for a Matter of Fact. This Gentleman had a Son who, being deficient in point of Learning, was refuſed DEACON'S ORDERS by a certain worthy PRELATE a few Years ago; it was ſuch a Grief to [10]him, that he went perſonally to his Lordſhip, and begg'd hard that his Son might not return with ſuch a Slur to the Univerſity, and be diſcouraged from making better Uſe of his Time. ‘MY LORD, ſaid the Clergyman, be pleas'd but to admit my Son to DEACON'S ORDERS, and I will engage that he ſhall appear before your Lordſhip the next Time with a better Stock of Learning, and approve himſelf not unworthy of your future Favour. When I was about his Age, I got into ORDERS, tho' but indifferently furniſh'd with Learning; for I had been very remiſs in my Studies. A few Years after, being promoted to a Living, I found my Pariſhioners moſtly DISSENTERS, which, for a while, made me a little diſſatisfy'd. Now your Lordſhip may, perhaps, wonder how I did to manage them, being not over-burthen'd, at my firſt ſetting out, with Divinity. Why, my LORD, I took this Method, which effectually anſwer'd my Deſire. Whenever I had any Occaſion of ſpeaking with them, either at my own Houſe, or any other Place, my Carriage [11]towards them was never diveſted of good Manners, and I never made my Company diſtaſteful to them on the Score of Opinion. I frequently had them to ſpend an Evening with me, and our Diſcourſe was chiefly confin'd to ſuch Things as fall in Countrymens' Way. By theſe Means, and doing them all the good Turns in my Power, I had much of their Company; and can now, with Comfort, ſay, that of all the DISSENTERS in my Pariſh that went to the MEETING, I have not one now that goes to it; they all come as duly to Church as the reſt of my People.—This, my LORD, was my Caſe, and I leave it to your Lordſhip's Candour and Conſideration.’ The good Biſhop, I have been told, was ſo pleaſed with this Country Clergyman's honeſt Simplicity and plain Dealing, that he obliged him, and ordain'd his Son.

THIS STORY, if duly conſider'd, is enough to quell the Pride of thoſe Clergymen who unmeaſurably value themſelves upon their Learning and great Preferment, and look upon others only [12]as the Caterpillars in the Vineyard. Such Endowments, ſingle of themſelves, are no Qualifications for a Chriſtian Miniſtry, and they may as well be poſſeſs'd by the proud Prieſts of BAAL or BACCHUS, by Pagan FLAMENS, or Mahometan MUFTIES.

So true is it, that Men who excel in other Reſpects, nay, ſhine in other Lights of Life, are frequently more deficient in that Addreſs, that mild Humanity, which wins the Affections of Mankind, than in Talents to raiſe themſelves to honourable Stations. The haughty and dogmatical are often ſubſtituted in the Room of the friendly, benevolent, and obliging. As to the Objection, that we might perhaps be over-bold with GREATNESS, and make Acquaintance with it in too familiar a Manner, if it was humble and condeſcenſive; I anſwer, it may be juſt with reſpect to thoſe Gentlemen whoſe only Qualifications lie in Form and Diſtance, but not to thoſe of real Merit. A becoming Freedom, Simplicity, and Openneſs of Behaviour, methinks, when extended to Men of Senſe and Prudence, will [13]never leſſen Greatneſs at all; but rather, like the regular APERTURES of a BUILDING, add Beauty to the WHOLE, without diminiſhing the Strength of any PART of it.

THE ſuperior Clergy ſhould be the Support and Ornament of the Prieſthood; they are placed in higher Orbs, not that, like METEORS, their ominous Blaze ſhould be the Gaze and Terror of their leſs happy Brethren; but that, like STARS, they may illuminate and beautify, animate and impregnate the inferior World: For they, like THEM, ſhould have an enlarg'd Proſpect, a ſwift and conſtant Motion, a bountiful and benign Influence.

BUT Man, proud Man,
Dreſt in a little brief Authority,
Moſt ignorant of what he's moſt aſſur'd,
His glaſſy Eſſence, like an angry Ape,
Plays ſuch fantaſtick Tricks before high Heav'n,
As makes the Angels weep.
SHAKESPEARE.

[14] A LARGE Share of this INDECORUM of Behaviour belongs to thoſe, I believe, who have contracted the Reverſe of Affability and civil Manners in their INFANCY. For PRIDE is a Paſſion which, inſtead of being reſtrain'd, is uſually indulged in Children: So that 'tis indeed no Wonder if the Effects of it are very unfortunately felt in SOCIETY. For it will be hard, perhaps, for one to give a Reaſon why that Temper which was uſed to delight in Inſult over Servants or Inferiors, in a Kitchen or a Nurſery, ſhould not afterwards be the Occaſion of equal Miſchief in the Publick itſelf.

IT has been known likewiſe to be perfectly reigning in thoſe, who have long indulg'd themſelves in an habitual Moroſeneſs in a COLLEGELIFE. There are certain Negligences or PECCADILLOS in Behaviour towards Inferiors contracted there, which ſometimes reduce Gentlemen into a perfect Apathy towards others that are not their Equals in Birth, or Fortune, or Learning, or Preferments, ever afterwards. When we go to an [15]Univerſity, we find that, as FORTUNE holds the GLASS, Things have quite different Faces in the Imaginations of many of the graver ſort of Academicks: We find that there is ſcarce one in five of the FELLOWS of a COLLEGE can be tolerably civil to any Gentleman of leſs Rank than a NOBLEMAN, a GENTLEMAN-COMMONER, or a GRADUATE. Hence 'tis, that others catch the Infection; Noblemen, or Gentlemen-Commoners, will only keep Company with the FELLOWS, or with one another; a Graduate with a Graduate, or Men of the ſame ſtanding. So that by theſe fooliſh Diſtinctions, the poor SCHOLAR or SERVITOR in a tatter'd Gown, tho' of ever ſo much Merit, has rarely, but very rarely, the Benefit of keeping Company with his Superiors; which, I muſt own, I mention with Concern, as 'tis a great Diſadvantage to Youth when they firſt go to an Univerſity, and would gladly learn MANNERS, as well as SCIENCES. If a poor Scholar ſhould happen to neglect or forget the Ceremony of putting off his CAP in paſſing one of the FELLOWS in the COLLEGE-QUADRANGLE, [16]'tis a thouſand to one but he is made to faſt that Day by being put out of COMMONS, or elſe he perceives his Miſtake not only in his Dinner, but at it likewiſe. For if the proud Gentleman that thinks himſelf ſlighted, ſhould happen to ſit PROVOST-PLACE, as they call it, he ſits at the Head of his Table in all the Agonies of conceal'd Ill-nature, and his Diſcourſe is made up of half Sentences, and dark Alluſions, both diſagreeable and unintelligible to all preſent; ſo that the Scholars that wait at Table, can only ſtare each other wildly in the Face, and ſtand with a malicious Sneer, wiſhing the Dinner was over, and inwardly commiſerating the Condition of one another. When Gentlemen of ſuch a ſaturnine Complection retire from the Exerciſe of magiſterial Authority over a few poor Scholars, and enter into Life, their Behaviour is commonly attended with a great many diſagreeable Sullenneſſes towards their Inferiors, or Dependants, upon the ſlighteſt Diſpleaſure; nay, whether in or out of Humour, they have contracted ſuch an Averſion to tatter'd Robes, that, for the moſt part, they fly the Society [17]of the POOR. Such Men forget, that they give the World the ſame Advantage over their REPUTATION, which a more criminal Conduct would do.—

— Hae Nugoe ſeria ducunt in Mala.

THE young Gentleman therefore that goes to an Univerſity has great Need of Counſel and Direction. I would have him conſult GOD in the firſt Place, and next, the moſt humble, the moſt devout, and experienc'd Tutor and Companions he can find out. For he ſtands in a Place where many Ways meet; and if he takes the Wrong, he will certainly wander far, and it may be, never recover the right. He may float a long, long while, upon the BILLOWS of PRIDE and FOLLY, before he recovers the Haven of WISDOM and HUMILITY.

How conſiderable a Part of Happineſs is loſt by thoſe, who ſeem by the Eminence of their Condition to be above ordinary human Commerce, [18]and who affect a ſort of diſtant Strangeneſs towards their Inferiors, will be eaſily apprehended by one who is not exceedingly ill-natur'd. Such a referv'd, uncommunicative, unfriendly Greatneſs, muſt, of all others, be the moſt diſtaſteful and gloomy State. Nor can it poſſibly be eſteem'd other than ſound and thorough Wretchedneſs, a grating and diſguſtful Feeling, without the leaſt Mixture of any thing ſoft, gentle, or agreeable. How great muſt be the Shocks of Diſappointment, the Stings of Affront, and the Agonies of a working Antipathy, againſt the multiply'd Objects of Offence, to the haughty proud Man, who with a ſevere Aſpect, and a pompous lofty Tone of Authority, guards his Greatneſs, as a gruff Bully does a Miſtreſs? Wherever ſuch a Creature turns himſelf, which ever Way he caſts his Eye, every thing around him muſt appear ghaſtly and horrid; every thing hoſtile, and, as it were, bent againſt a private and ſingle Being, who is thus divided by PRIDE from every thing beneath him, and has nothing ſoft or pleaſing from the Side of FRIENDSHIP in the INFERIOR WORLD. How little [19]does ſuch a Mortal know the Extent, and Power, and Pleaſure of HUMILITY, and to what an heroick Pitch a Soul may riſe, which feels the thorough Force of it? Never was Humility practiſed but with increaſing Joy, which makes the Practiſer ſtill more in Love with the fair Act. It leaves behind it the Perception of a delicious Eaſe, and an Overflowing of ſoft and pleaſing Senſation. I would to GOD, that enormous Pride and Diſtance did never appear among us, that Humility and a juſt Reverence for Mankind, and Civility and affable Manners, did alway take place. We ſhould then feel nothing but the enlivening Influence of the benevolent and obliging, the courteous and unreſerv'd Temper, which is a perfect Stranger to the untoward Delights of a diſſocial Community.

I SHALL conclude this Epiſtle, leſt I ſhould fall under the Imputation of being prolix, with ardently wiſhing, that all of US may be able to ſay with DAVID, * LORD, I am not high-minded, [20]I have no proud Looks. I do not exerciſe myſelf in great Matters, which are too high for me: But I refrain my SOUL, and keep it low, as a CHILD that is weaned from his MOTHER; yea, my SOUL is even as a weaned Child.’ Our SAVIOUR has ſo often pronounc'd the humbleſt Man the greateſt in the Kingdom of Heaven; he has ſo often promis'd the firſt Place, and the greateſt Exaltation to the loweſt Condeſcenſions; he was himſelf ſo illuſtrious an Example of Lowlineſs of Mind, of Poverty of Spirit; and the APOSTLE has ſo expreſly aſſerted his§ JOY and CROWN to be the Reward of his HUMILITY, that I can never think, DEAR SIR, that we can ever riſe to a more eminent Height, than that to which the Imitation of this Virtue of our LORD and MASTER will advance US.

I am, &c.

LETTER II.

[]
DEAR SIR,

ANOTHER Virtue we are particularly to practiſe is PATIENCE; for, I am ſure, no Order of Men in the World have more Occaſion to exerciſe it. If we ſhould give way to Paſſion and Peeviſhneſs, our whole Life would be one continual Fret. We had need of a great deal of Patience in the Inſtruction and Admonition of thoſe that are under our Care; to ſee what ſlow Progreſs they make in the Knowledge of divine Truths; how perverſe the younger [22]ſort are to learn their Duty, and how refractory and ſtubborn the elder are to retain their vicious Habits; with how great a Facility even Children can apprehend any thing that is lewd and wicked, and how dull and ſtupid their very Parents are whilſt we are preaching to them what is good; how that when we ſpeak to them in Demonſtration and Power, making out to them as clear as the SUN, the Agreeableneſs, the Pleaſure and Happineſs of a virtuous Courſe of Life, and the inevitable Miſery of a bad one; and when to this, we farther add the Efforts of a pious Zeal, and the Charms of a grateful Eloquence; and yet, notwithſtanding all this, to make no more Impreſſion upon their Hearts, than the STROKES do upon the harden'd ANVIL.—We had need be conſiderable Maſters of this Virtue, when we find how many Men are become our Enemies, becauſe we tell them the Truth; that when we preach up Religion and Virtue, we are look'd upon as ſo many knaviſh Cheats and Impoſtors by the Atheiſtical and Prophane; whilſt we endeavour to maintain the Unity and Apoſtolick Government of our [23]Church, whilſt we warn Men of the great Danger of an unreaſonable Separation, we are traduced by the reſolv'd Schiſmatick as the Agents of ROME, and the Advocates only of a more covert and diſguis'd Popery; that when we teach the Quiet and Peaceableneſs of Primitive Chriſtianity, the Guilt and Danger of Faction and Rebellion, to think we ſhould be cenſur'd, for the Miſcarriages of ſome this Way, as the Mercenaries of Government, and the Promoters of a deſpotick Power. To think farther yet, how the INFERIOR CLERGY ſhould be ſet up as the Mark of Ridicule and Contempt; that they ſhould have Reaſon to complain of more Grievances, than their Superiors can boaſt of Immunities; that no Injuſtices are ſo frequently committed, nor ſo hardly redreſs'd, as what are done to them; that they ſhould, in many Places, be the Sport of the Gentry, and be liable to all the unmannerly Mirth of the Commonalty; that their very Name ſhould paſs for a Jeſt, and every thing, tho' never ſo nauſeouſly ſilly, when they are the Subject, preſently commence Wit, and go for a Thing that is well ſaid.—Now to be able to conflict [24]with theſe and many more Grievances and Difficulties in the Exerciſe of our Office, we muſt be arm'd with a great deal of PATIENCE, and wait for a Recompence in another World for our SUFFERINGS here: THIS, and this only, has kept up the Spirits of my Neighbour EULALIUS.

EULALIUS may be ſaid now to be one of your very rich Clergymen not worth a Groat; who is little known, and much eſteem'd by his few Friends; thankful for what Mercies he receives, and humble under Chaſtiſement: He is deſpis'd by the World for his Poverty; and pities the World for its Weakneſs; is a Friend to Mankind, and an Enemy to nothing but Vice. A LADY of his Acquaintance told him one Day ſhe was ſorry he had the Misfortune of being ſo poorly provided for in the Church, and aſk'd him if he had no better Chance for Preferment? ‘CHANCE, MISFORTUNE, and good or bad Luck, MADAM, replied he, are Words without a Meaning, or they ſignify the Direction of PROVIDENCE. If you have no Meaning in theſe Words, you [25]tell me you are ſorry for nothing; if you have, 'tis impious; for 'tis thinking the Source of MERCY cruel. But, as I think better of you, I take them to be Words of Courſe. He who depends on Providence can never want a Support: But ſay we are neglected, and all our Endeavours for a decent Support prove fruitleſs. He who conſiders that Death will ſoon relieve him, will by that Reflection not be diſmay'd, but find his Conſtancy ſupported.’

WE'RE all but ACTORS on the World's great Stage,
Some play without, ſome with an Equipage:
Death drops the Curtain, and the Farce is o'er,
And all Diſtinctions ceaſe' twixt Rich and Poor.

‘WERE the good and virtuous of Mankind, MADAM, wholly proſperous in this Life; did Goodneſs never meet with Oppoſition, or Merit lie under a Cloud, where would be the Trial, Victory, or Crown of VIRTUE? Where would the Virtues have their Theatre, or whence their [26]Names? Where would be TEMPERANCE or SELF-DENIAL? Where PATIENCE, MEEKNESS, MAGNANIMITY? Whence would theſe have their Being? What Merit except from Hardſhip? What VIRTUE without a Conflict?’

EULALIUS, tho' in theſe low Circumſtances, is often telling his Friends that he is very happy,

—Dulces pendent circum Oſcula Nati:
Caſta Pudicitiam ſervat Domus.—
Virg. Georg. l. 2.

and that he looks upon his Condition to be for the beſt; which puts me in mind of a Gentleman who, coming from IRELAND to ENGLAND, and going into the Packet-Boat, and the Entering-Rope breaking, fell into the Pinnace, and broke his Leg. "Well, ſaid he, 'tis all for the better." His Friends aſk'd him, how he could think breaking his Leg, attended with the Loſs of his Voyage, &c. could be for the better? ‘PROVIDENCE, [27]VIDENCE, replied he, knows beſt: I am ſtill of Opinion, 'tis for the better.’ He was carried back, the Packet-Boat ſail'd, founder'd in her Paſſage, and but one Man was ſav'd.

AND here 'tis pleaſant to obſerve, that tho' the Pavilion of the ALMIGHTY be thick Clouds, and he walks upon the Wings of the Wind; tho' his Providence be a great Abyſs, and the Swiftneſs and Secrecy of his Actings elude our Search, and baffle our Enquiries, ſo that we cannot diſcern when he acts by PREROGATIVE, when by LAW; yet, as is plain from this Relation, he does frequently exert a ſupernatural Force and Virtue for our Preſervation.

A LOW Condition in the World ſeems to all (my Friend!) a terrible Misfortune; its Sound is ſo, and that's all. Life, methinks, is various enough, and if one Livelihood fails, another may ſucceed: If one Rank of Life cannot be ſupported, a Clergyman may flouriſh very well in another. 'Tis but deſcending a Step lower, and the Event [28]would abundantly atone for the Condeſcenſion. 'Tis well known the MERCANTILE WORLD is indebted to an ingenious poor Clergyman, to his neglected Merit, for the curious Invention of the STOCKING FRAME; being out of Bread, and ignorant of any Means of Subſiſtence by DIVINITY, he liv'd for ſome Time upon what his Wife got by KNITTING; and by curiouſly obſerving the playing of the Needles whilſt ſhe was at Work, he framed in his Mind the famous Model of the Frame, which has ſince prov'd of ſuch ſingular Advantage to that Branch of the BRITISH Manufactures, that it affords good Bread to Thouſands.

I REMEMBER a little Story of a Gentleman of GASCOIGNE, who inherited two thouſand Crowns a-year from his Father, commenced MARQUIS at PARIS, and, being a very volatile Genius, ſoon got the better of his Fortune, and was reduced to the loweſt Ebb of Wretchedneſs. Yet, in the Midſt of it, he never loſt his Spirit and Courage, or impotently repin'd at what was not [29]to be remedy'd: But, with the ſmall Pittance he had left, purchaſed a MULE, and turn'd WATER-CARRIER. Some Time after which, as he was trafficking his Merchandize up and down the Streets, he happened to meet two of his old Companions, who would have avoided him for fear of giving him Pain, at being caught in ſuch an Equipage. But he prevented them, ſprung forward to ſalute them with his uſual Freedom, and when they ſeem'd to pity his ill Fortune, briſkly interrupted them by ſaying,—That he had Forty thouſand Crowns Worth of Water in the SEYNE, but, for want of Servants, he was obliged to ſell it himſelf.

I AM afraid very few among us in Diſtreſs diſplay ſuch a Fortitude and Greatneſs of Soul; our Pride will not ſuffer us to do it; and we rather chuſe to have that very Pride wounded every Day in our Lives, by laying ourſelves open to the rich Man's Contumely, to Inſults and new Grievance, in intreating Obligations; to endure which with PATIENCE ſhould be beneath the Spirit of the [30]SACRED ORATOR. As to all other Sufferings we may rejoice in them with EULALIUS, and, with our BLESSED LORD, endure the CROSS and deſpiſe the SHAME.

I am, DEAR SIR, Yours, &c.

LETTER III.

[]
DEAR SIR,

WE of this Profeſſion are likewiſe obliged to ſhew forth a ſincere LOVE of GOD, and not to take the RICHES or the PLEASURES of the World for our MASTERS. For Men that have devoted themſelves to this Employ, have ſet themſelves one Remove out of the World, GOD has received them into his immediate Service, and they are created, as it were, the DOMESTICKS of HEAVEN. Therefore we muſt always demonſtrate an extraordinary [32]Love to our peculiar Maſter; we muſt endeavour to have the greateſt and nobleſt Conceptions of his Power and Goodneſs, and to propagate the ſame in others; we muſt be zealous of his Honour, to vindicate with Intrepidity and Boldneſs his holy Name and Word from Blaſphemy, and thoſe Things which are conſecrated to his Service from Prophanation; we muſt afford all the Advice and Encouragement we can for Men to obſerve his Commands, and diſſuade them to the utmoſt from the Violation of them. We muſt likewiſe give an eminent Example in the Worſhip of that GOD to whom we are ſo nighly related; we muſt never omit the worſhipping of GOD in our Families, by whoſe particular Bounty our Families are maintain'd; we that are Prieſts of his Temple muſt never be backward to offer up his Sacrifice there, be the common Votaries never ſo negligent.

A NOBLE ROMAN Youth,* C. FABIUS [33]DORSO, in the Time of the Siege of the ROMAN Capitol, to the great Aſtoniſhment of his [34]Countrymen as well as the Enemy, could come down from the Citadel amidſt the Darts of the GAULS, and perform a Yearly Sacrifice, peculiar to the FABIAN Family on the QUIRINAL HILL. And ſhall WE, the peculiar Miniſters of Heaven, be leſs careful of performing the Sacrifice of Praiſe and Thankſgiving to our LORD and Maſter in his Temple, than a private ROMAN Nobleman the holy Rites of his Family? We muſt, for ſo honourable a Maſter's Sake, endeavour to do all the Good we can to the Souls he has committed to our Charge, to draw them out of the Snares of the Devil, and to lead them into the Way of Salvation, to grieve at their Miſcarriages, and to rejoice at their Amendment; to endeavour, to our utmoſt, to promote Piety and true Religion, to enlarge the Confines of the Goſpel, and the Kingdom of our BLESSED LORD.

AND ſo likewiſe as to RICHES, which the vain World ſo courts and admires, we muſt not take them for our MASTERS, but with a decent Humility condeſcend to be eaſy in the Situation [35]we are in, and endeavour rather by our Deſerts to invite Preferments to us, than make any Tendency to them. We muſt not, when we are advanced to the moſt plentiful Station in the Church, only fill our Boſoms with the Fruits, and raiſe Families upon its Revenues; nor yet, if we meet with Diſappointments, muſt we be impatient, but ſtudy to live decently, creditably, and contentedly, according to our Conditions.

I HAVE often thought that the great polite ANCIENTS had nobler Notions of Wealth than we have, and behav'd with much more Patience and Magnanimity, than we generally do, under the Want of it. Many of them hugg'd their Poverty more than even ſome Men do a Biſhoprick. The famous GRECIAN Lyrick ALCAEUS, on whoſe Tongue dwelt Rapture and Melody, outbrav'd Misfortune, and ſung, as we ſay, like a NIGHTINGALE.

[36]
Et te ſonantem plenius aureo,
ALCAEE, Plectro dura Navis,
Dura Fugae Mali, dura Belli.—
HOR. Od. 13. lib. 2.

LIKE him was the good-humour'd HORACE.—

— Et mea
Virtute me involvo, probamque
Pauperium ſine Dote quaero.—
HOR. Od. 29. lib. 3.

ZENOPHON, whom ATHENAEUS calls [...], (lib. 2.) was endow'd with ſo heroick a Patience, and poſſeſs'd of ſo contented a Turn of Mind, that in Baniſhment he writ the politeſt, wiſeſt, uſefulleſt Syſtem of Works, and (to thoſe who can underſtand the DIVINENESS of a juſt SIMPLICITY) the moſt amiable, and even the moſt ſublime and elevating of the kind of all prophane and merely Heathen Authors.

[37]ANTIQUITY ſcarce affords us a more exalted Character than that of VIRGIL'S EVANDER, who in a tatter'd Gown and homely Cottage bade Defiance to FORTUNE, and could addreſs AENEAS with—

AUDE Hoſpes, contemnere Opes, & te quoque dignum
Finge Deo, Rebuſque veni non aſper egenis.
Virg. Aen. l. 8.

THE Soul that is GREAT in itſelf, can be happy or content with a very little. EPICURUS uſed to ſay, ‘That with ſuch Fare as a mean Garden afforded, he could vie even with the GODS for Happineſs.’ Who could be happier than VIRGIL's honeſt Countryman, old CORITIUS?

REGUM aequabat Opes Animis: ſeraque revertens
Nocte Domum, Dapibus Menſas onerabat inemptis.
VIRG. GEORG. l. 4.

[38] WHO, that reads this, deſpiſes not the Wealth, and pities not the Perſons of all the GREAT ONES upon Earth?

[...].
[...]
[...].
Euripid. Iphig. in Aulid.

How ſmall a Particle of FORTUNE was an ample Competency for thoſe brave ROMANS, * MANLIUS CURIUS, L. QUINTIUS CINCINNATUS, VALERIUS POPLICOLA,§ CORUNCANIUS, MENENIUS AGRIPPA,11 [39]and C. FABRICIUS! It is worth thoſe Perſons while, methinks, who deſpiſe every human Endowment in Compariſon with Riches, and think that there can be no real Greatneſs or diſtinguiſh'd Merit without a Flow of Wealth and Preferment, to attend to the Narration that Hiſtorians give us of theſe eminent Heathens.

Reſpicere Exemplar Vitae Morumque jubebo,
Doctum Imitatorem, et VERAS hinc ducere Voces.
Hor. de Arte Poet.

[40]THE private Converſation which paſs'd between C. FABRICIUS and King PYRRHUS, who wanted to make a Trial of his Conſtancy and Self-Denial, is ſo remarkable, that I ſhall here ſet Part of it down.— ‘C. FABRICIUS, ſaid the KING, as I ſincerely deſire to have all the reſt of the ROMANS for my Friends, ſo eſpecially I do you; whom I eſteem to excell all others for your Conduct both in Civil and Military [41]Affairs. Yet I am ſorry to ſee that you want one thing; for your Circumſtances are too narrow to enable you to keep up the Porte becoming Men of Quality. I will not ſuffer this Frown of FORTUNE to make you uneaſy any longer; for I will give you ſuch Plenty of Gold and Silver, in Money and Plate, as will ſet you above the moſt opulent ROMAN in point of Riches. Becauſe I am perſuaded that nothing can be more worthy my princely Station and Fortune than relieving the oppreſſive Poverty of Men of Merit, who have preferred Glory to the heaping up of Riches. I look upon this as a moſt glorious Act; as an Act by which a Prince raiſes the moſt illuſtrious Monuments of his Royal Magnificence, and offers the moſt ſolemn and acceptable Sacrifice to the Gods. Therefore, if you will allow me to aſſiſt you with my Riches, I ſhall eſteem it as a Benefit receiv'd rather than beſtow'd.’

To which C. FABRICIUS, after a ſhort Silence, anſwered,— ‘MY POVERTY is ſo far [42]from being a Burthen or Inconvenience to me, that, on the contrary, whenever I compare myſelf to the Rich, my Condition ſeems to be infinitely happier; and I number myſelf amongſt thoſe few, whoſe Lot it is to enjoy all the Felicity poſſible in this Life; and when thus rank'd, I feel the greateſt inward Delight, and am thankful for my Poverty. For while I deem it idle and fooliſh to covet Superfluity, and my little Field, when well cultivated and laid out, affords me all Neceſſaries, I know not for what Purpoſe I ought to be ſolicitous about greater Wealth. For all Nouriſhment is moſt pleaſant to me when ſeaſon'd with Hunger; and all Drink grateful when I am a-dry. I procure myſelf eaſy and quiet Sleep by Labour. If my Cloaths keep out Cold I am ſatisfied with them: In Houſhold-Furniture I like that beſt, which is moſt fit and convenient for the Uſe to which it is applied, and at the ſame Time cheapeſt. Wherefore I ſhould be doubly unjuſt, if I ſhould accuſe FORTUNE for not having afforded me more Riches, than my [43]NATURE requires, which neither inſpires me with a Deſire of Superfluities, or Dexterity to procure them.’

‘THEREFORE with this Indigence of mine, I look upon myſelf as richer than the moſt opulent of other Men, nay, than even you yourſelf; for I have ſo much, that I can deſire no more; as to you, would you have come over to ITALY, if you had not thought yourſelf poor, notwithſtanding you poſſeſs EPIRUS and other Dominions? Ay, but ſay you, Wealth fairly enables us to do Good to others! and my Poverty puts it out of my Power to help any one! But truly this gives me no more Trouble, than that I am not more than ordinary furniſh'd with other Things; that GOD hath not granted me uncommon KNOWLEDGE, nor the Art of PROPHECY, for the Benefit of thoſe who want them; nor many other excellent Endowments. And if I employ the Talents I poſſeſs for the Intereſt of my native State and Friends, if by aſſiſting every Man in every reſpect that I am [44]capable, I ſuffer my good Offices to extend to all, I think hitherto I am free from Crime on this Score. Nor can you in Juſtice call theſe Things mean and trifling, which you pretend to ſet ſo high a Value upon, and are ſo ready to purchaſe at the Expence of great Treaſure.’

WE are informed, that the KING, having heard him talk in this Manner, deſiſted, from farther Trial of his Virtue at that Time. But next Day he ordered FABRICIUS to be called to him, and, in order to frighten him, having placed an ELEPHANT behind a Curtain at their Backs, as they were diſcourſing together, the Curtain was drawn up all of a ſudden at the Command of the King, and the Beaſt laid his Trunk on FABRICIUS'S Head, and ſet up a terrible Noiſe and braying. But the undaunted HERO turn'd about very calmly, and, ſmiling, ſaid; ‘Your Gold could not tempt me Yeſterday, nor hath your Beaſt frighted me To-day.’

[45]THE ſame FABRICIUS, whoſe whole Side-Board of Plate conſiſted only of a Silver Salt-ſeller, and a little Diſh which ſtood on a Stool of Cornel-Wood, when the SAMNITE Embaſſadors brought him Money and fine Furniture, carried his Hands wide open to his EARS, thence to his EYES, NOSE, MOUTH, THROAT, and at laſt down to his BELLY, ſaying, ‘While I can govern THESE, I ſhall want nothing; but do ye carry back the MONEY to them who need it.’

PARE away VANITY and AMBITION, dear Sir, and there is no ſolid and natural Contentment but may be had with the ſmalleſt Income or Preferment, If we have not a ſtately BRICK HOUSE, and the coſtlieſt Sort of Furniture, we may perhaps have as convenient a little Cottage as C. FABRICIUS or M. CURIUS had, with decent Neceſſaries in it; and if we have not a Bottle of PORT or FALERNIAN, we may have Plenty of Spring Water, which is every whit as clear and wholſome, as if it darted from the Breaſts of a MARBLE NYMPH, or the Urn of a RIVER GOD.

[46]IF we cannot be moderate in our Deſires, no Greatneſs can ſatisfy or content us; ſtill if we could mount up a little higher in the Church, if we could get that RECTORY, or that DEANERY, or that BISHOPRICK, we would be happy, we would obtain all our Wiſhes. But yet at laſt, when we have got up to the very Top of the PEAK of TENERIFF, to the very Summit of Preferment, we are in exceeding great Danger of breaking our Necks downwards, but in no Poſſibility of aſcending upwards into the Seat of Tranquillity above the Moon. The firſt ambitious Men in the World, the OLD GIANTS, are ſaid to have made an Attempt of ſcaling HEAVEN, in Deſpight of the GODS, and that they caſt OSSA upon OLYMPUS, and PELION upon OSSA; two or three Mountains more, they thought, wou'd have done their Buſineſs, but the Thunder of OMNIPOTENCE ſpoil'd all their Work when they were come to the third Story.

IT is recorded of the ſame PYRRHUS, King of Epirus, whom I juſt now mention'd, that fighting [47]for one Territory after another was his conſtant Amuſement to the laſt Gaſp, without ever arriving at the MERRY HOUR which he propos'd as the Iſſue of all his Victories; for he was knock'd in the Head at ſtorming of a City, and like a true reſtleſs Hero died in his Vocation.— * What, SIR, do you propoſe in this Expedition againſt the ROMANS, ſaid his Prime-Miniſter, CINEAS, to him? To conquer all ITALY, anſwer'd PYRRHUS: And what next, ſaid the Counſellor? Then we will tranſport our Forces into SCILLY, and make that Kingdom our own, reply'd his Majeſty: And what Expedition will you go on after that? Then, quoth the enterprizing Hero, we'll ſail to AFRICA, and ſubdue that Part of the World. And what, continues the Stateſman, remains to be done then? Why then—then, ſays the Monarch, we'll ſit down and be merry over our BOWLS. And what, anſwer'd his Miniſter, hinders us from doing that NOW.’

[48]MEN of great Parts and Learning who are ever uneaſy, always reſtleſs in their Cures, and ſtruggling for Wealth and Grandeur, as CHILDREN do for RATTLES, are as weak as PYRRHUS, and weaker than Children. The harmleſs BABES, indeed, are innocently amus'd with the tinkling of the BELLS, but the Amuſement of the ECCLESIASTICK INFANTS is attended both with the Loſs of Time and Reputation; they are in a continual Hunt after Baubles till the End of the Lottery of Life approaches, till the laſt Minute, like the laſt BENEFIT-TICKET upon the WHEEL, puts a Stop to their Career.

I OFTEN look upon theſe aged CHILDREN, or GAMBLERS for Preferment, in the ſame merry Light with thoſe that ſly down from a Steeple, dance on a Rope, whiſtle, ſing, walk, run, hop, or tumble into the golden Lap of FORTUNE. 'Tis not unlikely but ſome of them are Gamblers all their childiſh Days, that they may not ſeem to want Activity, or Life and Spirit, to be engaged in the buſy Scenes of Life; like DIOGENES, [49]who, upon the Approach of PHILIP of MACEDON with an Army towards CORINTH, and the Inhabitants running in great Conſternation with Materials for its Defence, took his TUB, which was his Dwelling, and with great Induſtry roll'd it up and down the CRANEUM, the uſual Place of his Reſidence before the City, and, being aſk'd the Reaſon of his whimſical Labour, anſwer'd, ‘He did it that he might not be the only idle Perſon among ſo many that were in ACTION.’

BUT to be ſerious. We of the CLERGY ought, of all Men, to ſhew a CONTEMPT of worldly Things; we muſt not ambitiouſly aſpire to great Preferment, nor indecently progg and ſolicit for any by a criminal LOWLINESS or ſawning Obſequiouſneſs of Behaviour, by a ſervile Submiſſion, and falling into the corrupt Taſte and Pleaſures of great People; tho' I know they are reckon'd eſſential Qualities and Accompliſhments for a Man that would now-a-days riſe in the World. But 'tis obſervable, that thoſe that arrive at Preferment [50]this Way, would gladly forget the Steps of that deteſtable LADDER by which they aſcended into it, and eagerly wiſh that others would forget it too: like a STREAM running, as ſoon as it enlarges itſelf as far it can from its little FOUNTAIN, and labouring, as it were, by its Circlings and Wanderings, to conceal the MEANNESS of its RISE.

—'Tis a common Proof,
That LOWLINESS is young Ambition's Ladder,
Whereto the Climber upwards turns his Face;
But when he once attains the upmoſt Round,
He then unto the Ladder turns his Back,
Looks in the Clouds, ſcorning the baſe Degrees
By which he did aſcend. *—
I am, &c. SHAKESPEARE.

LETTER IV.

[]
DEAR SIR,

AS we of this Profeſſion muſt not take the RICHES, ſo neither muſt we take the PLEASURES of the World, for our MASTERS: We muſt not prefer them to that intellectual Pleaſure and divine Peace, which is attainable by Men alone, and denied to Beings of a lower Claſs. Any Man may ſee the great Diſproportion there is between the reſin'd Pleaſures of conſcious Innocence, and ſenſual Gratifications, unleſs he has parted with his nobleſt Prerogative, [52]his REASON, and, by intemperate and diſorderly Living, made thinking his Torment. The PLEASURE of SENSE, that is not reſin'd by Virtue, is like a LAND-FLOOD, impetuous, muddy, and irregular, it leaves nothing behind it but a Group of Impurity: But the PLEASURE of VIRTUE is like a STREAM, which runs indeed within its Banks, but it runs ſmooth and clear, and is as pure as the limpid FOUNTAIN from whence it flows.

PURITY of Heart is of all others the moſt excellent, as well as the moſt elevated Virtue; and therefore a poor GREEK MAIDEN, being aſk'd what FORTUNE ſhe would bring her Huſband, anſwer'd truly and bravely, — ‘I will bring him what is more valuable than any Treaſure, a Heart unſpotted; and that Portion of Virtue without a Stain, which was all that deſcended to me from my PARENTS.’

THE wild ACADEMICKS give ample Teſtimony of the Slavery and Wretchedneſs of Vice. [53]They may extoll their criminal Delights to the Skies, and point their Wit as ſharply as they pleaſe againſt a virtuous regular Conduct; but when they come afterwards to pay the neceſſary Tribute to their commanding Pleaſures, we hear their pathetick Moans, and find the inward Diſcord and Calamity of their Lives. We may often read in their Looks the dolorous Confeſſion in behalf of Virtue, and ſee in their very Eyes how the Caſe ſtands:— ‘Nam veroe Voces tum demum Pectore ab imo eliciuntur.’

WHO can expreſs the Horrors that flow in upon the Men of Pleaſure, when cool Reflection brings their guilty Scenes to View? How ſharp are the Upbraidings of an offended Conſcience! What inward Perturbations and Agonies diſtract the Mind! As that poiſonous Plant in the Iſland of SARDINIA, which, if* FRENSHEMIUS and PROCOPIOUS15 [54]ſay true, cauſes a Convulſion in the Face, whereby a Perſon ſeems to die laughing; ſo are the Smiles that ſenſual Gratifications and Love-Intrigues produce, but falſe and hollow at the beſt, and, at laſt, fatal.

I HAVE ſomewhere read of an unlucky Miſtake made by one of the FRENCH BISHOPS, an intriguing Gentleman among the Ladies, who, writing to a certain young DUTCHESS at PARIS, and, at the ſame Time, to the CARDINAL DE [55]FLEURY, directed one Letter for the other. That for the DUTCHESS, which the CARDINAL receiv'd, was as follows.

‘I have juſt now wrote to his OLD EMINENCE, my charming QUEEN, to intreat his Leave to return to PARIS; I make no Doubt but he will grant it: As for the reſt, the Air is ſo pure here, that I have acquir'd ſo good a State of Health, that I reckon I ſhall be able to give you moſt ſenſible Proofs of it, when I come to have the Happineſs of ſeeing you.’

YOU may gueſs how the PRELATE was ſurpriz'd when he read the following Anſwer which the CARDINAL immediately ſent him.

‘HIS OLD EMINENCE adviſes you to extinguiſh your Paſſion: His Majeſty orders you to continue in your Dioceſe till further Orders, and requires that your Life and Converſation may be as pure as the Air you breathe; and that you make no other Uſe of your good State [56]of Health, but to diſcharge the Duties of your FUNCTION.’

WE of this Profeſſion muſt alſo be very moderate in the Enjoyment of thoſe other good Things which GOD has allotted us, ſuch as our DIET, DRESS, and CLOATHING. — When People ſee a Clergyman labouring and toiling among a Squadron of Diſhes, grunting under the Load and Repletion of the ſtrongeſt Meats, panting almoſt in vain for Breath, but quite in vain for Thought, and reminded only of his Exiſtence by the unſavoury Returns of an OLIO, what Good can they expect from ſuch inglorious Work?

WHAT Life in all that ample Body, ſay,
What heavenly Particle inſpires the Clay?

DISTEMPERS, of all Complections, are the juſt Rewards of ſuch a Senſualiſt, the never-failing Trophies of ſuch a CULINARY DIVINE, who eats according to the Laws of ſome eminent Epicure at PONTACK'S, and has no Reliſh for plain [57]Beef and Pudding, but muſt have his fricaſſeed Frogs and his Ortalans. The Calamity would not be ſo great, if the Offspring of ſuch a Compound Piece of Clay were no Sufferers; but his Children are commonly a Race of pale-faced, ſpindleſhank'd LILLIPUTIANS, to ſee the moſt vigorous of whom it would make one's Heart ach. —A ſingle Regiment would put Fifty Thouſand of them to Flight.

THERE is alſo a Decency and Moderation to be obſerv'd in our Attire, Dreſs, and Cloathing.— A Gentleman in a Gown and Caſſock muſt be a little Soul who converſes no higher than a LOOKING-GLASS, ESSENCES, and PERUKES, and a fantaſtick Dreſs; he may help to make up the Shew of the World, who flutters about with a frizzled Head-piece, is ſleek with Perfumes, and ſhines in flowing Robes of Paduaſoy, but muſt not be reckon'd among the rational Inhabitants of it.

LET the voluptuous, the fantaſtick, and the finical, be as extravagant as they pleaſe; they muſt, [58]at the ſame Time, diſcover their Inconſiſtency, and live in Contradiction to that Principle, on which in the Pulpit they pretend to ground their higheſt Entertainment, when in paſſionate Strains they preach up the Beauty and Charms of an abſtemious Life, and Temperance in Attire. This I would call the LEPROSY of ELOQUENCE; for, undoubtedly, ſuch Leproſies are the worſt of any.— I would adviſe ſuch leprous ORATORS to accuſtom themſelves a little to the Exerciſe of SELF-DISSECTION, and to afford themſelves a little Time to think in private, for their own particular Benefit and Uſe, Et verae Numeroſque Modoſque edicere Vitae, and not be ſo often retir'd as they are, and yet never be by themſelves.

IT muſt be confeſs'd, indeed, that few Things make a Man appear more deſpicable, or more prejudice his Hearers againſt what he is going to offer, than an aukward or pitiful Dreſs; inſomuch [59]that I fancy, had* TULLY himſelf pronounced one of his Orations in tatter'd Robes, more People would have fneer'd at his Dreſs, than have admir'd his Eloquence.

NIL habet PAUPERTAS durius in ſe,
Quam quod ridiculos Homines facit—
Quid quod Materiam praebet Cauſaſque Jocorum
Omnibus hic idem? ſi faeda et ſciſſa Lacerna;
Si Toga ſordidula eſt, et rupta Calceus alter
Pelle patet, vel ſi conſuto Vulnere craſſum
Atque recens Linam oſtendit non una Cicatrix.
JUV. SAT. 3.
[60]
WANT is the Scorn of every wealthy Fool,
And Wit in Rags is turn'd to Ridicule.
The Rich have ſtill a Gibe in Store,
And will be monſtrous witty on the Poor;
For the torn SURTOUT, and the tatter'd Veſt,
The Wretch and all his Wardrobe are a Jeſt:
The greaſy GOWN, ſully'd with often turning,
Gives a good Hint to ſay the Man's in Mourning;
Or, if the SHOE be ript, or PATCH is put,
He's wounded! See the Plaiſter on his Foot.
DRYD.

WE muſt likewiſe, DEAR SIR, be extreamly delicate in our Choice of DIVERSIONS; we muſt often tread in the rugged Tract even when there is little Occaſion for it; DESIRE muſt be frequently confin'd within the Circle preſcrib'd by CUSTOM only, when there would be really no Harm with Decency to indulge it. For, tho' in the very Road to Virtue, there are ſeveral PRIMROSE-PATHS, (to uſe the Expreſſion of LAERTES in SHAKESPEARE) which may invite the Step, without leading abſolutely out of the Road itſelf, [61]or offering any indecent Proſpect to the View; yet the World expects a CLERGYMAN ſhould tread the direct Road, without going to the Right or Left, for fear he ſhould wander too far, or trip in the Circumflex.

ALTHOUGH a Fondneſs for the Entertainments of the STAGE is the prevailing Temper of the Age we live in, yet it would but ill become us to give any Encouragement to them. For the falſe Notions of Honour there propagated, the agreeable Shade which is caſt over unlawful Love, and the Ridicule and Contempt with which all Seriouſneſs and Religion is generally treated, makes me think it too dangerous for the young, and unbecoming the old. The Gay, the Polite, and the Witty, may perhaps run the Rigg upon us, the Toupees may laugh at us, and the Ladies frown upon us, if we do not make a Party with them to the Play-houſe, but we muſt not regard that. I am, indeed, aſham'd to tell you, that a Man may read the COMEDIES of the ancient HEATHENS with leſs Offence to his Modeſty and Virtue, than [62]thoſe of modern CHRISTIANS. A vicious Sentiment in a theatrical Performance at ATHENS would have coſt the Poet his Liberty or Life. When EURIPIDES made one of his Actors ſay, — ‘Riches are the ſupreme Good, and with Reaſon excite the Admiration of Gods and Men;’—the whole Theatre roſe upon him, and he had been baniſhed immediately, if he had not deſired Patience till the End of the Play, where the Speaker of this Sentence periſhes miſerably. Were the Stage under proper Regulations, it would be a rational and agreeable Entertainment, and I cannot ſee why a Clergyman, as well as another Perſon, might not then go to a Play; it might then as much help, as it now hinders the the Cauſe of VIRTUE.

WE muſt never frequent GAMING-HOUSES, to play at BILLIARDS, &c. but fly from the Infection of them with Horror; 'tis really my Opinion, that this ſingle Depravity puts Thouſands of People in the Kingdom to greater Expence, [63]than would maintain the SCIENCES in all their Glory.

GAMING was ſo much diſ-eſteem'd among the greateſt of Men formerly, that the King of PARTHIA is reported to have ſent a Bale of golden Dice to DEMETRIUS, on Purpoſe to upbraid his Inconſtancy. And COBILON, the LACEDEMONIAN, being ſent to CORINTH for obtaining a mutual League and Friendſhip between thoſe two Cities, when he ſaw the Captains and Senators of CORINTH playing at Dice, returned without doing any Thing; ſaying, that he would not ſo much as tarniſh the Glory of the SPARTANS, as that it ſhould be ſaid, they had made a League with GAMESTERS.

I AM far from being an Enemy to the Entertainment of a CONCERT; I even think Muſick a Science peculiarly neceſſary amongſt us, to ſoften our rugged Genius, to prepare the Way to Politeneſs and Good-breeding. In HOMER we read of a HARPER to whom ALCINOES and [64]ULYSSES willingly lent their Ears. In VIRGIL, JOPAS both ſings and plays, while DIDO and AENEAS give Attention. Such is the Force of Muſick, that ORPHEUS aſſuaged the Tempeſt of the ARGONAUTS with a Song; and, if there be any Authority in FABLES, we find that tho' ARGUS had his Head guarded with a hundred Eyes, yet they were all charm'd aſleep with the Sound of one ſingle PIPE.

Muſick has Charms to ſoothe and tamethe horrid Savage;
Rocks and Deſarts are reſpondent to the Voice.
CICERO's Orat. for ARCHIAS.

But even this Taſte for muſical Diverſions a Man may encourage with too great Profuſion, and he may become a Dupe to Sounds, to the Prejudice of his Underſtanding.

THO' I am for taking the higheſt Care to exhilerate Religion, yet I would, by no Means, encourage your going to dance, &c. at ASSEMBLIES. Dancing may be a very neceſſary Qualification [65]for Youth, as it gives a Perſon a genteel Carriage, and an eaſy graceful Behaviour; but I don't know of any Buſineſs a Gentleman in Holy Orders has with it. When CYRUS the GREAT demanded the Advice of his Counſellors about the beſt Method of keeping a Nation which he had conquer'd in Subjection, he was advis'd to let SINGERS and DANCERS be introduced amongſt them, and let their Youth be brought up in learning the LUTE, and they would ſoon languiſh into Foppery and Effeminacy, and loſe all Senſe of Liberty. This will always be the Caſe whenever, like the* LYDIANS, we become [66]a Nation of Bel Eſprits, and the warbling Gullet of a FARANELLI, or the lulling Pipe of a LYCIS, ſhall be more admired than the manly Eloquence of a HUTTON, a§ DRUMMOND, or a TOTTIE.

CAUTIOUSNESS and Circumſpection in our taking a GLASS at a Tavern, or at our own Houſes, is a Duty which is alſo more particularly incumbent upon us of the CLERGY.—'Tis true, our SAVIOUR exhorts us to CHEARFULNESS and GOOD HUMOUR, in the ſtrongeſt Manner, and under the moſt familiar and pleaſant [67]Images: Even the firſt MIRACLE he ever wrought, carries with it a certain agreeable Feſtivity and Alacrity. And old NESTOR in HOMER, as ſage a Soul as he was, could take a cherruping Glaſs, and be very merry: [...].’ Which AUSONIUS tranſlates, ‘Concuſſit quamvis potantem NESTORA Clamor.’ But we may ſometimes, by our imprudent Freedoms, betray weaker Chriſtians into real Sin; they, for Inſtance, by keeping the ſame Company, or the ſame Hours, which we do, may act very wickedly; for 'tis not to be ſuppoſed, that they ſhould have ſo much Metaphyſicks as to diſtinguiſh between an unſeaſonable Sitting for Diſcourſe-ſake, or for Drink. We muſt therefore abridge ourſelves of many little Liberties which other Men lawfully take, both in our Words and Behaviour in Company. We muſt avoid not only Guilt, but Scandal too; becauſe Scandal may do [68]as much Miſchief in our Profeſſion as Guilt, and Men will be as far from imitating our Practice, or practiſing our Doctrines, if they believe us to be immoral, as if we were really ſo. We muſt attemper our Diſcourſe over a GLASS with a decent Chearfulneſs, and, as it were, a pleaſant unaffected Seriouſneſs. For by this we may even then, probably, obtain the Converſion of ſome miſ-guided Perſons, who are averſe to our Communion only for the general Neglect of this; or, at leaſt, we ſhall gain their better Opinion, and we ourſelves ſhall not be the worſe Men for it. I confeſs, the wicked Hypocriſy of thoſe pretended godly Miniſters in CROMWELL'S Days, that were carrying on Rebellion and Sacrilege with ſo much ſanctimonious Preciſeneſs, has entailed ſuch a laſting Scandal upon the outward Form of GODLINESS, as hath made good Men ever ſince very cautious of uſing it; but, in Oppoſition to them, we have, perhaps, carried the Point too far on the other Side, we have given them Occaſion to cenſure ſome of our FREEDOMS, as we have done their PRECISENESS. Very worthy [69]of our Attention is the Behaviour of ARISTIPPUS. ARISTIPPUS wore neither the formal Beard, nor the ſour ſevere Aſpect of an INSTRUCTOR, but mingling himſelf in all Companies, artfully pick'd Occaſions, as if by Chance, to rectify an Error, or prevent a Vice; by this Means, his Virtue became the Faſhion, and Men were reformed from Vice, while they thought they were only growing polite.

BECAUSE 'tis always expected, DEAR SIR, that Men of a liberal Education ſhould be no Strangers to GOOD BREEDING, we muſt, by no Means, neglect the Culture of that ſocial Virtue. —A VIRTUE that has all the Heightening of Embelliſhment and Gracefulneſs: 'Tis Benevolence brought into Action with all the Aſſemblage of Propriety and Excellence: 'Tis the Friend of Society, and the Poliſh of Science: It regulates Life and Conduct, refines upon Happineſs, enlarges the Circle of Enjoyment, and is the Improvement of Pleaſure: It obliges us to behave with Decency and Elegance, and quickens our Attention [70]to the good Qualities of others. COMPLAISANCE is, indeed, its Reſemblance; but only as a SHADOW is of a SUBSTANCE. It is only the Varniſh, the Maſque of it. GOOD BREEDING is the real Ornament of the Soul, made viſible and ſet in the faireſt Point of Light. Our modern Complaiſance, like falſe WIT, has ſomething glaring in it which ſtrikes the Injudicious with a kind of Admiration; but, like falſe WIT, has no other Effect on People of Senſe than to produce Ridicule and Contempt.

THE Deſign of SCHOOLS, the Uſe of UNIVERSITIES, the Benefit of CONVERSATION, ſhould all, in ſome Meaſure, centre in this great Point—GOOD BREEDING. No one can be properly call'd a Gentleman, who has not made Uſe of every Opportunity to enrich his own Capacity, and ſettle the Elements of good Behaviour, which he may improve at Leiſure. There are Numbers of Perſons of our Profeſſion, who may juſtly claim Reputation for a ſingle Excellence, that in all others are defective and inconſiderable, [71]for the Want of this general Accompliſhment.— A Variety of Incidents agree to make the Want of it very common. Bad Principles of Education when at SCHOOL; an ill Choice of Acquaintance at entering into the UNIVERSITY; the unhappy Bluntneſs of TUTORS who undertake to inform us, and an untoward Diſpoſition of our own. But the Frequency or Confirmation of an Evil, ſhould never diſcourage us from endeavouring to ſurmount it; and if it is grown quite deſperate, there is the more Neceſſity for oppoſing it with the greater Vigour. I muſt own, that little Oddities and Singularities of Behaviour in a Gentleman of a liberal Education, whoſe Mind is very much accuſtom'd to a Habit of Study and Thoughtfulneſs, may be ſometimes excuſed with Candour and Indulgence; they may be only like Spots, perhaps, in the SUN, or Aſperities in a DIAMOND; or may be as MOLES and DIMPLES, which hinder not a Face from being beautiful, tho' that Beauty be not regular; or of the Number of thoſe amiable Imperfections which we ſee in the [72]FAIR SEX, and which we paſs over without a ſtrict Examination, when they are accompanied with greater Graces.

THERE is another Particular, in my Opinion, DEAR SIR, of no ſmall Conſequence to the Support of our Character, and that is, to retain in our Memory our poor KINDRED and RELATIONS, tho' never ſo remote; for nothing is more unbecoming a Clergyman than a Forgetfulneſs either of his poor Friends or his Parents, which is always imputed to an affected, diſdainful Superiority and Pride.

A GENTLEMAN who was on the Road of ALGIERS ſome Years ago, was an Eye and Ear Witneſs of the following Story.—One Day as ſome Chriſtian Captives, who had been ranſom'd, were going to be diſcharg'd, the Town-Cruizers brought in a Swediſh Veſſel; one of them hearing it was of that Nation, and being from thence himſelf, was very deſirous to ſee the Crew, when, to his great Surprize, he ſaw his own Father (who [73]was Maſter of the Ship) in Company; the Son knew the Father, but the Father (who had loſt him when a Youth many Years) knew not the Son, having given him up as dead long before, not hearing any thing of him. The Son ſoon made himſelf known to the Father, who embraced him with great Tenderneſs; but their Unhappineſs to meet in that Place was grievous to them both. The young Man addreſs'd himſelf to his Father in this Manner:— ‘The Slavery you are going into will be inſupportable to you, and ſoon put an End to your Life, the Thoughts of which is Death to me; I have been here a great many Years, and know the Country, the People, and their Work; if they will accept of me in your Room, I will go back into Slavery, and you ſhall go Home again; I know, if it ſhould pleaſe GOD to enable you, I ſhall be redeem'd; if not, GOD'S Will be done.’ The Moors readily accepted the Exchange; ſo the Father returned Home, and the Son back in his Stead into Slavery.

[74]GELON, the Son of HIERO, King of SYRACUSE, (who, after living upwards of Fifty Years, died before his Father) from a Moderation and Affection very uncommon among Men, choſe rather to want his Kingdom for EVER than be depriv'd of his Father, whom he honour'd with a ſtrict Duty and Obedience to the laſt Minute of his Life.

JUSTIN, in his Hiſtory, gives us a Deſcription of Filial and Parental Affection, which is extremely moving and pathetick. 'Tis that Part where he is ſpeaking of the approaching Death of AGATHOCLES, the Sicilian Tyrant, and of his Wife and Children going into Exile.

Diſcedentes parvuli, flebili Ululatu amplexi Patrem tenebant. Ex altera Parte Uxor Maritum non amplius viſura, Oſculis fatigabat. Nec minus Senis Lacrymae miſerabiles erant. Flebant bi morientem Patrem; ille Exules Liberos: hi Diſceſſu ſuo Solitudinem Patris, aegri Senis; ille in Spem Regni relinqui [75]in Egeſtate lugebat. Inter haec Regia omnis aſſiſtentium Fletibus tam crudelis Diſcidii impleta, reſonabat.

JUST. Hiſt. L. 23.

JOSEPH'S affectionate Behaviour to his BRETHREN, as it is related in Holy Writ, after the Death of his Father JACOB, is attended with every Circumſtance of FRATERNAL LOVE and Regard, and deſerves our moſt ſerious Conſideration.

‘AND when JOSEPH'S Brethren ſaw that their Father was dead, they ſaid, JOSEPH will peradventure hate us, and will certainly requite us all the Evil which we did unto him.—And they ſent Meſſengers unto JOSEPH, ſaying, Thy Father did command before he died, ſaying, —So ſhall ye ſay unto JOSEPH, Forgive I pray thee now, the Treſpaſs of thy Brethren, and their Sin; for they did unto thee Evil: and now, we pray thee, forgive the Treſpaſs of the Servants of the GOD of thy Father. And [76]JOSEPH wept when they ſpake unto him.— And his Brethren alſo went and fell down before his Face: and they ſaid, Behold we be thy Servants.—And JOSEPH ſaid unto them, Fear not: for am I in the Place of GOD?—But as for you, ye thought Evil againſt me; but GOD meant it unto good, to bring to paſs, as it is this Day, to ſave much People alive.— Now therefore fear ye not: I will nouriſh YOU, and your LITTLE ONES. And he comforted them, and ſpake kindly unto them*.’

I am, DEAR SIR, Yours, &c.

LETTER V.

[]
DEAR SIR,

ANOTHER Virtue, which we are particularly obliged to practiſe, is CHARITY. —We know the APOSTLE recommended Charity as the Principal of all Chriſtian Virtues, the Top and Height of our Religion; he prefers it not only before FAITH and HOPE, but even ſets it beyond MARTYRDOM itſelf.— ‘If I give my Body to be burnt, and have not Charity, &c. We therefore that are the Preachers of Righteouſneſs, and the Propagators [78]of this bleſſed Religion, muſt be eminently charitable in our Cenſures of other Men; we muſt hope all Things of them, believe the beſt, not miſtruſt worſe than does plainly appear, excuſe as far as poſſible their Failures, and draw a Veil over their Infirmities we are conſcious of, that they may not be eſpied by others. If there ſhould be any ſo uncharitable as, without Reaſon, to cenſure our Behaviour, ſo as to endeavour to leſſen us in the Opinion of our Pariſhioners, we muſt remember that Scandal never fails to recoil with double Force on the Authors, 'tis a noxious, but tranſitory Vapour, which vaniſhes at the firſt Appearance of Light; we muſt reprove them gently, but not uſe them with Inhumanity; and ſhould they ſtill keep pecking at us, it will not be worth our while to inflict any heavy eccleſiaſtical Cenſure upon them. SPIRITUAL-COURT-OFFICERS, like knaviſh PHYSICIANS, ſeek Employment enough for themſelves, and would be glad to ſee every Pariſh in a Dioceſe always diſeas'd, that Men might apply to them for Cure. Beſides, our Enemies may be ſuch, that they may not deſerve our Concern, [79]ſo as to feel the Weight of our Indignation, and the Vengeance of a Spiritual Court.

A MERCHANT, who reſided ſometimes at BENCOLEN, bought a tame ELEPHANT there, whom he ſuffer'd to go at large. This Animal uſed to walk about the Streets, in as civil and familiar a Manner as any of the Inhabitants, and wonderfully delighted himſelf in viſiting the Shops; particularly thoſe which ſold Herbs and Fruit, where he was always well receiv'd, excepting only by a Couple of brutal Coblers, who dwelt in that Quarter. Theſe Fellows, without any Reaſon, took Offence at the generous Creature, and had once or twice attempted to wound his PROBOSCIS with their Awls. The noble Animal, who knew it was beneath him to cruſh them, did not diſdain to chaſtiſe them. He fill'd his large Muſcular Trunk with a conſiderable Quantity of Water, not the cleaneſt, and advancing to them, as uſual, cover'd them at once with a dirty Flood. The Fools were laugh'd at, and the Vengeance applauded.

[80]A NOBLE MASTIFF, being once attack'd by a Parcel of little yelping Curs, and ſcorning to encounter ſuch Reptiles, contented himſelf with p—ſſing upon them, as they crept at his Heels.

WISE Men have upon all Occaſions treated Slanderers with Contempt: DIOGENES hearing a vociferous Aſſaſſin of Characters exclaiming againſt PLATO, and charging him with a Thouſand Faults, told him with great Spirit and Juſtneſs, ‘SIR, your Malice is all thrown away; you will no more be believed in ſpeaking Evil of him, than I ſhould be, if I ſpoke Good of you.’ And PELOPIDAS made a very proper Anſwer to ſome who, to curry Favour with him, impeach'd certain brave Soldiers of having ſpoke diſreſpectively of him behind his Back: ‘It may be, ſaid he; but you will give me Leave to act according to the beſt Evidence I have; as for their Actions, I have been Eye-Witneſs of them; and, as to their Words, I have only heard what you have been pleaſed to tell me.’

[81]WE muſt retain kind and eaſy Thoughts of thoſe, my Friend, who differ in Judgment from us, eſpecially upon the Score of Religion, to think, as far as may be, that they do it upon unfeign'd Conviction of Conſcience, and for the Sake GOD's Glory; but however, we muſt have a very great Care of unchurching whole Countries and Nations by the Blaſt of one cholerick Expreſſion.—Nor are we only obliged to this MENTAL CHARITY which will coſt us nothing, but to be alſo liberally charitable, and bountiful of thoſe good Things GOD has bleſs'd us with: Of which there are two principal Branches, HOSPITALITY and ALMS. The Apoſtle does in two Places recommend HOSPITALITY to the CLERGY, 1 TIM. iii. 2. and TITUS i. 8. in that early Time of the Church when the Revenues were ſo miſerably ſmall, and therefore undoubtedly 'tis a Duty much more incumbent upon us in theſe Ages, when we are more amply provided for. This has been always looked upon by the HEATHENS as a moſt generous Virtue, and the Want of it a Note of Barbarity.

[82]
AXYLUS, hoſpitable, rich, and good,
Near fair ARISBA's Walls (his native Place)
He held a Seat, a Friend to human Race.
Faſt by the Road, his ever open Door
Oblig'd the WEALTHY, and reliev'd the POOR.
HOM. l. vi. v. 16.

IN HOMER's Odyſſ. l. xv. v. 81. there is an admirable Rule to be obſerv'd in the Practice of HOSPITALITY:—

ALIKE he thwarts the hoſpitable End,
WHO drives the free, or ſtays the haſty Friend:
True Friendſhip's Laws are by this Rule expreſt,
Welcome the coming, ſpeed the parting Gueſt.

THE Doors of the noble Roman POPLICOLA were always open'd on the Outſide to ſave the People the common Civility of aſking Entrance; where all were equally admitted; where nothing that was reaſonable was denied; where even Miſfortune was a powerful Recommendation; nay, [83]I may add, where Want itſelf was a powerful Mediator, and next to Merit.

TO ſtrike a friendleſs or helpleſs Perſon, the Stranger, the Poor and Needy, was reckon'd a cruel and barbarous Action in HOMER's Days. When ULYSSES, in the Diſguiſe of a Beggar, was ſtruck by ARTINOUS, the other Suiters (tho' repreſented as profligate Perſons) are ſhock'd at, and condemn the Action:—

Ill fits the Stranger and the Poor to wound,
Unbleſt thy Hand! If in this low Diſguiſe
Wanders, perhaps, ſome Inmate of the Skies:
They (curious oft of mortal Actions) deign
In Forms, like theſe, to round the Earth and Main,
Juſt and Unjuſt recording in their Mind.
HOM. Odyſſ. l. 17. v. 575.

—The GODS revere;
THE POOR and Stranger are their peculiar Care;
To JOVE their Cauſe, and their Revenge, belongs,
He wanders with them, and he feels their Wrongs.
HOM. Odyſſ. l. 9. v. 321.

[84]THE Uſe of HOSPITALITY formerly was to entertain chiefly Travellers upon the Road before the World was generally provided with Houſes of publick Entertainment; but ſince its Office is to accommodate Perſons of a lower Rank with more grateful Proviſion than their Fortunes can attain to, to afford a free Recourſe to decayed Perſons to eat with us, whoſe Condition is not ſo abject as to take up with a formal ALMS; and with the Remainder of our ample Proviſions to let the POOR have a convenient Suſtenance. There are likewiſe ſeveral CANONS of the CHURCH to enforce this LIBERALITY; but generally our LIBERAL EDUCATION makes us very ſeldom defective this Way, unleſs it be ſome few of our Order that are ſunk to the loweſt Degree of Baſeneſs, whom neither GOD's Word, nor Shame, nor the Contempt of all good Men, can work upon.

WE muſt likewiſe, to our Abilities, be charitable to the POOR, and this is our Duty to do in common with other Chriſtians; but then we have [85]higher Obligations to it, becauſe we muſt recommend the Doctrines we preach more effectually by our EXAMPLE, but chiefly becauſe the Endowments of the CHURCH do, in ſome Meaſure, belong to the POOR, and for ſome Ages of Chriſtianity the Poor had a FOURTH PART to their Share of the ECCLESIASTICAL REVENUE.

THE POOR are, as it were, the ORPHANS of HEAVEN, they have a Demand on us, as well as others, for the Neceſſaries of Life; and beſides, there is an Authority due to Diſtreſs; and as none of human Race is above the Reach of Sorrow, ſo none ſhould be above hearing the Voice of it. The Heathen Poet, in commending the Charity of DIDO to the TROJANS, ſpoke like a Chriſtian: ‘Non ignara Mali, miſeris ſuccurrere diſco.’ When ſharp Miſery, to uſe an Expreſſion of the divine SHAKESPEARE's, has worn a Man to the Bone; when his Eyes have loſt all their Spirit; [84] [...] [85] [...] [86]when his Hair and Beard is become wild and neglected, and every Muſcle of his Face expreſſive of Famine and Deſpair; when he is ſo depreſſed by Calamities, as not to be able to look upwards, or hope for Comfort, nay, unwilling to receive it, as if ſo painful a Being was not worth preſerving, and Death the only Relief that was truly to be wiſh'd for; every generous Heart muſt bleed, methinks, that HUMANITY ſhould be liable to ſo much Woe and Wretchedneſs. And there are in the World Perſons of ſuch great Merit, ſuch fine Qualities, reduced to this melancholy Circumſtance, by ſuch a Series of ſtrange Accidents, that one would think they were left by PROVIDENCE on Purpoſe for Objects, on which the SON of FORTUNE ſhould exerciſe his Humanity and Virtue. And, believe me, in ſerving any of theſe poor unhappy People, we would find a more ſenſible Pleaſure, than can poſſibly ariſe from all the monied Bliſs of Bags and Coffers, the Splendour of Equipage, or the Exceſs of the Epicure's Table.

[87]THERE are ſome Perſons, indeed, who rather chuſe to fatten as Vagrants, than ſweet away their Lives in honeſt Labour and Induſtry; and there are others with artificial Sores, and artificial Legs, who counterfeit the Dreſs and Guiſe of Wretchedneſs ſo well, that no Painter can help them to a Circumſtance which can heighten the Image; but theſe have no Right to our Charity, they are worth no Body's Notice but the Legiſlature's; and as, I think, they are a publick Nuiſance, Mankind has a ſort of Demand on every Magiſtrate to have it remov'd out of the Way. But he muſt be of a ſavage Nature, that would turn ſuch Objects of Commiſeration away with Contempt, who have the ſtrongeſt Claim for Compaſſion and Aſſiſtance; ſuch as thoſe who are unable to ſupport themſelves by any Buſineſs or Employment; ſuch as thoſe, whoſe natural Pride and Modeſty will not ſuffer them to complain, who pine in ſecret, without a Chance for Relief, without a Friend to aſſiſt them, or the moſt diſtant Hope of better Days, who, perhaps, are forced to appear gay and ſmiling in the Midſt of Agony, and ſit mournful Spectators [88]of the Profuſion of others in Trifles, which would be a comfortable Support and Happineſs to them; ſuch as thoſe, who are compell'd to throw themſelves on the Mercy of their Fellow-Creatures, and truſt entirely to Providence for their Preſervation. Were there no Divine Command that enjoin'd us to look upon theſe as Perſons who had a natural Right to all we could ſpare, we ſhould beſide, I think, reckon it our higheſt Glory to make them eaſy.

THE Hiſtory of PERU aſſures us, that their INCAS eſteem'd, above all their Titles, that the higheſt, which call'd them LOVERS of the POOR: A Name more glorious than the FAELIX, PIUS, and AUGUSTUS of the ROMAN Emperors; which were Epithets of Flattery, deſerv'd by few of them.

SOME of our polite Moderns have contracted ſuch a Reverſe of what we call URBANITY or civil Manners to the POOR, that to ſee or meet a Perſon in Diſtreſs is offenſive. The very Aſpect [89]of one in Need is a Diſturbance to them, and they are ſure always to hate at firſt Sight. This inhumane, barbarous, ſavage Temper, is the immediate Oppoſite to that noble Affection which the good EUMAEUS in HOMER had for the POOR, and the helpleſs Stranger.

MY preſent Labours Food and Drink procure,
And more the Pleaſure to relieve the POOR.
Odyſſ. l. xv. v. 398.
MY Heart has learnt to glow
For other's Good, and melt at other's Woe.
Odyſſ. l. xviii. v. 269.
'TIS mine with Food the Hungry to ſupply,
And cloath the Naked from th' inclement Sky.
Odyſſ. l. xvi. v. 83.
BY JOVE the Stranger and the Poor are ſent,
And what to thoſe we give, to JOVE is lent.
Odyſſ. l. vi. v. 247.

[90]AMONG the unhappy Wretches that lie in TARTARUS, VIRGIL places the COVETOUS, who only brood over their Treaſures,—Nec Partem poſuere ſuis,—and give no Part of it to their Fellow-Creatures who ſtand in Need of it; adding likewiſe, that the Offenders this Way are the moſt numerous of any.

THE poor WIDOW mentioned in Holy Writ, threw her MITE into the TREASURY, indeed a ſmall Matter in itſelf, but her own Want made it a great Proof of her charitable Diſpoſition, retrenching her own Subſiſtence, and the Neceſſaries of Life, to contribute to the Relief of the Neceſſities of others.

How does St PAUL magnify the CHARITY of the Churches of MACEDONIA? * In a great Trial of Affliction, the Abundance of their Joy and their deep Poverty abounded to the Riches of their LIBERALITY. For to their Power [91]I bear Record, yea, and beyond their Power, they were willing of themſelves.’

DR HOUGH, the late Biſhop of WORCESTER, was actuated by a ſecret celeſtial Influence to undervalue the ſplendid Incumbrances, the Overflowings of CHURCH-REVENUES, to diffuſe Joy and Gladneſs thro' the tortur'd anxious Soul loaded with Affliction, to ſupport a falling Family, to give Encouragement to the diligent Hand, to preſerve the Portion of the helpleſs Orphan, and to raiſe the Head of the aged Widow, the mourning Huſband, and the unhappy Stranger. The Lowlineſs, the Humanity, the Sweetneſs of Dr HOUGH'S Temper, prompted him daily to exert ſome noble Inclination or other for the Service of his Fellow-Creatures, and made his Superiority in the Church not only a Bleſſing to Mankind, but alſo the Source of innumerable Satisfactions, an Ocean of Joys to himſelf. Such is the Effulgence of the Reputation he has left behind him, ſo great the Dignity of his CHARITABLE CHARACTER, that it may challenge Time to conſume [92]the Trophies it has rear'd, while every Monument erected by Art or Labour muſt yield to Age, and moulder into Duſt.

THUS much for the MORAL QUALIFICATIONS which we of the Clergy are under an indiſpenſible Obligation to practiſe, if we would approve ourſelves unto GOD or our Hearers as eloquent Divines: How a Clergyman is to be qualified as to LEARNING, &c. or that he may be an able Speaker, or a WORKMAN that needeth not be aſhamed, I ſhall point out to you in our future Correſpondence.

I am, DEAR SIR, Yours, &c.

LETTER VI.

[]
DEAR SIR,

I SHALL now touch upon ſome general Qualifications which all that are of the Body of the Clergy, eſpecially in theſe Ages of Literature, ought to be furniſh'd with. And firſt, a moderate Skill in PHILOSOPHY is requiſite in our Profeſſion. LOGICK, I think, is undeniably neceſſary for every one who pretends to Learning, and Skill in the Arrangement and Diſpoſition of his Sentiments or Ideas. And if we would become Maſters of fine Reaſoning, we muſt not only apply [94]ourſelves cloſely to the Study of LOGICK, but alſo take Care that the Ariſtotelian Authors we read be of the right ſort. This Country never produced a more modeſt, uſeful, or entertaining one to begin with, in my Opinion, than Dr WATTS. He ſteers to the Coaſts of this kind of Philoſophy with as much Caution, as if he was afraid of ſplitting upon the Rock of ſome unwarrantable Deſire. And what I reckon is very much to his Praiſe, he never grows trifling, or troubles us with what is of no Importance; and has this Excellency beſide, which few Authors of this Rank have, he writes in a Manner that is very taking and intelligible to young Gentlemen, and furniſhes them with all the neceſſary Materials for their Improvement.

I HAVE always thought, that LOGICK would go down more glibly with moſt of our young Students, eſpecially in ſome Colleges, if they were not cramm'd ſo much with it. I am ſenſible it would ſuit more with their Inclinations, and they would not ſo often mutiny and declare War againſt [95]venerable CRACKENTHORP and BURGESDICIOUS. A Man who has a Genius, and whoſe Profeſſion ſhould lead him to the Study of Divinity, ſhould not, methinks, ſpend ſo much of his Time in Altercation, as they do, who grow grey almoſt in ſtudying the Wiles and Subtilties of it. But, as to this Matter, I reſign my Judgment, with entire Condeſcenſion, to my Superiors. I ſhall only add, that to me there appears to be a great Deal of Difference between the Practice of ARISTOTLE and our modern Schoolmen. He, by the ſame mental Eye with which he took in the Power and Quality of every Object in Nature, likewiſe ſurvey'd the Properties of ELOQUENCE, which at the ſame Time had but a ſecond Place in his Eſteem; but the others, who are ſuch dear Lovers of Diſputation, dwell almoſt upon that ſingle Province; they want the Prudence and good Senſe of ARISTOTLE, tho' in this ſingle Point, they out-do him in Practice and Application.

MR* OCILVY in his Deſcription of PERSIA [96]tells us, that the PERSIANS have all ARISTOTLE'S Works tranſlated into ARABICK, and call him DANJA PIALA, that is, the CUP of the WORLD; for as we may uſe the CUP to refreſh ourſelves, ſo we may likewiſe to Inebriation; ſo according to their Opinion, we may uſe and miſuſe Philoſophy; for they ſay, that ſtrong Liquor and Philoſophy make good Orators, but Exceſs of both makes wiſe Men Fools.

A MODERATE Skill in ETHICKS and the vulgar METAPHYSICKS, PHYSIOLOGY and the MATHEMATICKS, is alſo requiſite, DEAR SIR, in our Profeſſion.—MORALITY gives a Rationale, a demonſtrative Rectitude or Pravity of the Virtues and Vices we are ſpeaking to, it adds a mighty Guſt eſpecially to thoſe of a philoſophical Palate, which a bare Scripture-Reaſoning has no Effect upon. The vulgar METAPHYSICKS is eſſential to Divinity as 'tis handled in later Ages; without ſome Portion of it, we cannot be able to diſpute, or write, or talk Divinity in proper Terms. PHYSIOLOGY and the MATHEMATICKS [97]ſeem the moſt remote from our Profeſſion, and yet we may ſee of what Conſequence they are to Divinity from reading Mr BOYLE'S LECTURES. How ſtrong, how forcible is Truth phyſically and mathematically demonſtrated, how guarded and fortified is our Religion on all Hands, how keen and poignant is every Argument, cutting and mauling the Adverſary, and driving him out of all his Entrenchments? The moſt copious and ſolid, the moſt compact and nervous Preachers which this Nation ever had, were ſome of the Writers of theſe Lectures.

THERE is alſo this Advantage ariſing from Phyſical and Mathematical Knowledge, (beſides that of clearing up a Man's Thoughts, and giving him a juſt Taſte of right and wrong Reaſoning) it makes the Human Mind generally ſenſible of its own Worth and Excellence, and perceive that 'tis intimately ally'd to that of the Divinity; which muſt afford it a raviſhing Satisfaction. The very Reflection upon the Power and Nature of GOD, [98]makes a good Man emulous of imitating his divine Perfections; neither does he think that he is placed here as an idle Spectator, when he obſerves the Dependance of the Parts of each Syſtem of the Creation, and of the ſeveral Syſtems upon one another, and how they all contribute to proclaim the Wiſdom of that ALMIGHTY BEING that gave them Exiſtence.

How does ſuch a Genius as* Dr HALES break forth from amidſt the Darkneſs that involves Human Underſtanding! He appears like one of another Species. The Plan of this habitable Globe lies open to him, he ſeems not unacquainted with the general Laws that govern it; and while with the Tranſport of a Philoſopher, he beholds and admires the glorious Work, he is capable of paying at once a more devout and rational Homage to his MAKER. His EXAMPLE, methinks, ſhould inſpire us with a generous Ambition, ſhould engage us to endeavour to improve [99]our Faculties, and to exerciſe them conformable to the Rank we now hold among reaſonable Beings, and the Hope we have of being one Day advanced to a more exalted Station.

WE of this Profeſſion ought alſo to be qualify'd with a conſiderable Knowledge in the HOLY SCRIPTURES. Our BLESSED LORD gives it as a Command to all Men to ſearch the Scriptures. And St PAUL tells TIMOTHY,§ that the Scriptures are only able to make him wiſe unto Salvation. We ſee how excellently learned all the Apoſtles were this Way, whilſt they neglected the Uſe of other Literature. Which is abundantly ſufficient to ſhew, that we of the Clergy ought to make the Study of the Scriptures our chiefeſt Concern. It is requiſite therefore for us to be competent Maſters of the PHRASEOLOGY of Scripture, to be able to expreſs divine Truths in Scripture-Terms, thereby to avoid the frequent Miſtakes which are incident to human Expreſſions, [100]and to raiſe the Affections and warm the Hearts of devout Chriſtians, which this Eloquence does infinitely beyond all the little Arts of a prophane Rhetorick. We muſt ſtudy the Scriptures to be able to alledge appoſite Examples from thence of the Truths we are enforcing, and to bring Proofs and Aſſertions of the ſame Truths out of the SACRED ORACLES, which, to good Men, are more undeniable than all the Demonſtrations of REASON. We muſt ſtudy the Scriptures to be able to underſtand ſome difficult Paſſages therein, which are apt to lie uneaſy upon our Minds till we have diſcovered the Senſe of them, which they that are unlearned and unſtable wreſt to their own Deſtruction, and which Perſons under our Care are often wont to aſk our Information in. We muſt alſo ſtudy them to be able to underſtand the Types and Prophecies of our BLESSED SAVIOUR, to ſee how thoſe, formerly unintelligible Ceremonies of the Law, are but expiatory Rites, and receive their full Completion in the great Sacrifice of the SON of GOD, how all the duſky Propheſies clear up and con-center in him, what a World of ſtrange fortuitous [101]Events hit in and conſpire together, to make out the Predictions concerning HIM. 'Tis requiſite that we ſhould ſtudy the Scripture that we may be Maſters of its CHRONOLOGY, which alone of all other Hiſtory affords the firm Grounds to that Art; to be able to defend it againſt, or reconcile it with the Oppoſitions of prophane Authors: And, laſtly, that we may be able to ſolve thoſe ſeeming Contradictions which atheiſtical Men pick up in it to expoſe its Credit. And as an Aſſiſtance to do this the better, we muſt have a competent Skill in the GREEK and HEBREW LANGUAGES which theſe holy Books were wrote in, to conſider the Words and Conſtruction of the original Text, and what Variation the common Interpreters do make from it, to find the Uſe of thoſe and other ſynonimous Words in other Places, to conſider the particular Idioms, Metaphors, Tranſitions, &c. in theſe Languages; and by this Means oftentimes a very mean Knowledge in thoſe Tongues may give a good and true Interpretation of a Place which has been blunder'd upon by very great Criticks.

[102]WE ought likewiſe to have â compleat Knowledge in CONTROVERSIAL DIVINITY. Beſides the Controverſies which we are to manage with ATHEISTS and INFIDELS, by reaſon of the woful Diviſions of Chriſtianity, which is crumbled into ſo many Sects, 'tis the Duty of our Order to maintain the Truth againſt ſo many erroneous Oppoſers. There are ſome of theſe that ſtrike at the very Fundamentals of Religion, and the main Articles of Faith, ſuch as are chiefly the SOCINIANS and PAPISTS; others that entertain very erroneous Opinions concerning the Diſcipline and Government of the Church, as the ANABAPTISTS, INDEPENDENTS, and PRESBYTERIANS. Now 'tis requiſite we ſhould have an Inſight into all theſe Controverſies, to be able to anſwer all the Objections which ſuch Men bring againſt our Religion, to confute their Opinions with Arguments either brought from SCRIPTURE, REASON, or ANTIQUITY, or all of them; to know what Cavils and Exceptions they raiſe againſt the Arguments of our Divines, and to prove upon them the Invalidity of ſuch Replies; [103]to ſhew what fallacious and jejune Interpretations they put upon Scripture, and what Diſtortions and Falſifications they uſe towards ancient Writers.— Thus we muſt be every way prepared for our Defence, and have every Weapon ready to enter the Liſts with them; and then, when we are attack'd, we cannot be thrown into any Confuſion or Perplexity by their Grimace and Tone, which I have always obſerv'd are mighty Helps to Dulneſs, and are frequently made Uſe of by dull Fellows of all Perſuaſions.

BUT tho' nothing can be ſo neceſſary as to have always ready thoſe Arms, which at the ſame Time can diſcover every controverſial Quirk, and defend us from thoſe who would entangle us in the Snares of their queſtionary Debates; yet whenever we have Occaſion to ſpeak of GOD, or his ATTRIBUTES, we ought to be inwardly affected, and in our outward Expreſſions appear to be ſo, with the unmeaſurable Diſtance there is between a moſt perfect and omnipotent CREATOR, and a mere impotent CREATURE. 'Tis not [104]without ſome Indignation as well as Aſtoniſhment, that I ſee ſome among us (who little conſidering what GOD is, and what they themſelves are) preſume to talk of him and his Attributes as freely and unpremeditately, as if they were talking of a GEOMETRICAL FIGURE, or a MECHANICAL ENGINE. So that the leaſt preſumptuous Diſcourſe of the Nature and Perfections of that unparallel'd Being, as if they were Objects their Intellects can graſp; and ſcruple not to dogmatiſe about thoſe abſtruſe Subjects as freely, as about other Things, that are confeſſedly within the Reach of human Reaſon, or perhaps are to be found among the more familiar Objects of Senſe.

HOW often do we hear Mr PUZZLE even from the Pulpit diſcourſe of GOD and his ATTRIBUTES, as if he comprehended the Height, the Breadth and Depth of his Wiſdom, and knew the Extent of his Greatneſs and Power, and all his Perfections. With an Air of Confidence he tells us of ſuch and ſuch Things being conſiſtent or inconſiſtent with the Deity, how he is under [105]ſuch and ſuch a Neceſſity, as if he were of the Cabinet-Council of the KING of KINGS. If Mr PUZZLE is not too wiſe in his own Conceit to conſult his Bible, he will there ſee how vain and fooliſh and preſumptuous 'tis to be engaged in ſuch deep Reſearches. ‘The SECRET THINGS belong unto the LORD; but thoſe Things which are revealed belong unto us, and to our Children for ever, that we may do all the Words of this Law," is the Reflection of MOSES. When I apply'd mine Heart to know Wisdom, ſays the WISE MAN, and to ſee the Buſineſs done upon the Earth: Then I beheld all the Work of GOD, that a Man cannot find out the Work that is done under the SUN: Becauſe tho' a Man labour to ſeek it out, yet he ſhall not find it; yea further, tho' a wiſe Man think to know it, yet ſhall he not be able to find it.’

‘SEEK not out the Things, ſays the wiſe Son of SIRACK, that are too hard for thee, neither ſearch the Things that are above thy Strength. [106]But what is commanded thee think thereupon with Reverence; for it is not needful for thee, to ſee with thine EYES the Things that are in ſecret. Be not curious in unneceſſary Matters: for more Things are ſhewn unto thee than Men underſtand. For many are deveiv'd by their own vain Opinion, and an evil Suſpicion hath overthrown their Judgment. Canſt thou, ſays JOB, by ſearching find out GOD? Canſt thou find out the Almighty to Perfection? It is as high as HEAVEN, what canſt thou do? deeper than HELL, what canſt thou know?’

THE fallen ANGELS are deſcrib'd by MILTON, in his PARADISE LOST, as touch'd with a Curioſity, like Mr PUZZLE'S, of diſcovering the Meaſures of the DIVINE OECONOMY, amidſt the Horror and Melancholy they were in, and unable to find out either the Antecedents or the Conſequents, the Beginning or the End of it.

OTHERS apart ſat on a Hill retir'd,
In Thoughts more elevate, and reaſon'd high
[107]Of Providence, Fore-knowledge, Will, and Fate,
Fixt Fate, Free-will, Fore-knowledge abſolute,
And found no End, in wandering Mazes loſt.

HOWEVER Mr PUZZLE may pleaſe himſelf with an Opinion of his own Wiſdom, he cannot, with all his boaſted Reaſon, account for the Ways of NATURE, even for the meaneſt of her Productions. Can he tell me why the VIOLET is arrayed in Purple; why the SUN-FLOWER glows wiih Yellow, and the LILLY appears in White? Can he ſo much as form a Conjecture, by what ſurprizing Chymiſtry Nature, from the ſame Soil, extracts the delicious, but different Juices of innumerable ſorts of FRUITS? Can he even tell me how the APPLE and CHERRY become round; the PEAR and FIG oblong? How the WALNUT acquires a Shell that is broke with Difficulty, whilſt the MULBERRY growing near it, has a Skin ſo tender, that it ſcarce endures the Touch? Can he tell me why GRAPES hang in Cluſters; why ſome Fruits on aſpiring lofty Trees, ſome on Buſhes, and others on the Ground? If theſe [108]Things, which ſeem ſo trifling, are beyond the Reach of HUMAN UNDERSTANDING, how great muſt be Mr PUZZLE'S Folly, Aſſurance, and Preſumption, when he takes upon him to comprehend the Ways and Diſpenſations of the Almighty, and inſolently dares pretend to know the Extent of his Wiſdom and Power, and his other glorious Perfections! This is more than an honeſt Heathen durſt do, who thought our Words ought to be few, and thoſe becoming the tardy Apprehenſions of Men, concerning the wiſe Diſpoſitions of Providence, and the Perfections of an omnipotent Creator.

SICUT aeguum eſt Homini de Poteſtate Deorum, timide et pauca dicannus.

Cic. Orat. pro lege Manilia.

WE ought to have, my Friend, a moderate Inſight into CASUISTICAL POINTS. We that have undertaken the Paſtoral Charge have frequently under our Care heedleſs Perſons, that will run unadviſedly into Sin which they do not know to [109]be ſuch, and ſcrupulous Perſons who forbear many good and innocent Actions for fear of offending, or whoſe Conſciences trouble them when they have committed them. Therefore 'tis requiſite we ſhould, in ſome Meaſure, be converſant in CASUISTICAL DIVINITY, to be able to underſtand how Circumſtances create or improve the Pravity or Goodneſs of moral Actions; what are the exact Boundaries of Vice and Virtue; by what Manner Sins are aggravated or mitigated; how Obligations are made, confirm'd, or vacated; how far Oaths are obligatory, and in what Senſe impoſed and taken; how far 'tis lawful to comply with ſuperior Authority, and for the Sake of Peace and Union. Theſe Things we ought to be able readily to determine, for the Sake of thoſe who may frequently be ſuppoſed to ſeek Advice from us.

WE muſt alſo have a competent Knowledge in ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY, and the Writings of the FATHERS. WE, who are the DEFENDERS of the FAITH, ought to know how it has been deliver'd down to us, what Oppoſition [110]has been made againſt it by SCEPTICKS, and how it has been defended by the ORTHODOX; what Afflictions have happened to the Church by perſecuting EMPERORS, and what Privileges it has gain'd by the pious and religious; what great and holy BISHOPS have graced their reſpective SEES by their LEARNING, WISDOM, and PIETY, and how many others have been the TORMENT of their DIOCESES, and the PEST of the CHURCH. WE muſt be converſant likewiſe in the divers COUNCILS of the ſeveral Ages, to ſee with what Alacrity thoſe HOLY FATHERS came from all Parts of the World to defend their Religion, and to give an Account of their traditionary Faith in their reſpective Diſtricts down from the apoſtolical Times; what a pious Zeal they ſhewed, and what learned Speeches they made againſt the heretical Innovations; what excellent Explications of Faith they form'd, and what admirable Canons and Laws of the Church. WE muſt carefully ſtudy the Writings of the ANCIENT FATHERS, eſpecially the APOLOGETICAL, POLEMICAL, and PRACTICAL, to [111]know what admirable Vindications of Chriſtianity they made againſt the malicious Imputationss of the PAGANS; how, by a wonderful Strength of Reaſon and Learning, they overturn'd the very Foundation of the ETHNICK THEOLOGY, made the Doctrine of the CROSS triumph over all the Glories of this World, and even bore down the HEATHENS by the Force of their own RHETORICK: to ſee the Hereſies of the VALINTINIANS, MANICHEES, ARIANS, and others, perfectly ſtruck thro' with the Pens of theſe admirable Writers; and, laſtly, to find in their PRACTICAL TRACTS ſuch a Force, and ſuch a Warmth, as is inimitable in theſe later Ages, that one may plainly have a Taſte of the very Souls of theſe good Men in their Writings.

I am, DEAR SIR Yours, &c.
[110]
[...]
[111]
[...]

LETTER VII.

[]
DEAR SIR,

WE of this Profeſſion muſt endeavour to make ourſelves Maſters of a nervous, ſweet, and muſical STILE. For 'tis not enough that we are barely heard, but we muſt temper our Thoughts with the ſofteſt Harmony of Words, that we may convince the Reaſon, and move the Paſſions of our Hearers.* Harmonious Compoſition has not only a natural [114]Tendency to pleaſe and to perſuade, but inſpires an Audience to a wonderful Degree with generous Ardour and Paſſion. Fine Notes in Muſick have a ſurprizing Effect on the Paſſions of Men. Do they not fill the Breaſt with an inſpir'd Warmth, and lift the Heart into heavenly Tranſport? The very Limbs receive Motion from the Notes, and the Hearer, tho' he has no Skill at all in Muſick, is ſenſible however, that all its Turns make a ſtrong Impreſſion on his Body and Mind. The Sounds of any muſical Inſtrument are in themſelves inſignificant, yet by the Changes of the Air, the Agreement of the Chords, and Symphony of the Parts, they give extraordinary Pleaſure, as we daily experience, to the Minds of an Audience. Yet theſe are only ſpurious Images, and faint Imitations of the perſuaſive Voice of Man, and far from the genuine Effects and Operations of human Nature.

WHAT an Opinion therefore may we juſtly form of fine Compoſition, the Effect of that Harmony which Nature has implanted in the Voice of Man? Does it not by an elegant Structure and [115]marſhalling of Sounds convey the Paſſions of the Speaker into the Breaſts of his Audience? Does it not ſeize their Attention, and by framing an Edifice of Words to ſuit the Sublimity of Thoughts, delight and tranſport, and raiſe thoſe Ideas of Dignity and Grandeur in others which it ſhares itſelf?

'TIS the Judgment of the* ROMAN Orator, that to uſe one's ſelf much to reading and writing is the only Way in the World to arrive at a Perfection and Grace of Stile. We muſt therefore carefully read the beſt Authors, and hear with the utmoſt Attention the moſt celebrated Preachers; and be as ſtudious of obſerving the Beauties of a charming Diſcourſe, as a FLORIST would the Colours of a fine AURICULA, or a Botaniſt the Form of a curious PLANT. All this, I confeſs, is very troubleſome, but give me the Genius that is thus exerciſed; this is the Soil that Eloquence will thrive and flouriſh in. As a TREE that is a good. [116]Bearer ſhoots out into Expreſſions of Kindneſs, and bends beneath its own precious Load to the Hand of the Gatherer, when the Ground about it is meliorated and enrich'd with Culture: So the Eloquence of a cultivated Genius will immediately break out into Swan-like Muſick, and flow from his Lips with ſuch delicious Sweetneſs, as to fill his Audience with Melody and Rapture.

HORACE, that great Judge of fine Writing, bids us place before our Eyes the great polite Ancients of ATHENS as Mirrors and Exemplars to form, to elevate, and enoble our Stile and Sentiments by.

— Vos Exemplaria GRAECA
Nocturna verſate Manu, verſate diurna.

THIS, my Friend, muſt be our Ambition, this ſhould be the fix'd and laſting Scope of all our Labours; we muſt ſpare no Pains to educate our Stile and Thoughts to Grandeur, and impregnate them with the noble Language and generous [117]Ideas of others, that our own Compoſitions may receive a kind of beautiful Glow and Flavour from theirs.

NOR is an Imitation of the fineſt Pieces, or copying out thoſe bright Originals of ATHENS, or ROME, or our own, or neighbouring Nations, to be look'd upon as Plagiariſm, but as conſiſtent with the niceſt Honour. Was not* CICERO the Imitator of ZENOPHON and PLATO? Was not HERODOTUS the conſtant Imitator of HOMER? Did not§ STESICHORUS and ARCHILOCHUS [118]imitate him more than HERODOTUS? And did not PLATO more than all of them, who from the copious HOMERICK Fountain has drawn a Thouſand Rivulets to cheriſh and improve his own Productions? HOMER had engroſs'd the Admiration of the learned World, and wore the Laurels without a Rival, the divine PLATO therefore was inſpired with a noble Emulation to contend the Prize with him; and tho' he did not ſucceed in his own Way, yet he had noble Succeſs in another; [119]for the Stile of his Proſe has a poetical Sweetneſs, Majeſty and Elevation, and he is juſtly eſteem'd the HOMER of Philoſophers. The ROMAN Orator was ſo great an Admirer of him, that he ſaid, ‘If JUPITER convers'd with Men, he would talk in the Language of PLATO.’

A GREATER Prize than the Glory and Renown of the celebrated ANCIENTS and MODERS can never be contended for, where Victory crowns with never-dying Applauſe, when even a Defeat in ſuch a Competition is attended with Honour and Advantage. PLATO, in all Probability, had never written ſo ſmoothly, delicately, and poetically, and with the niceſt Decoration, had not his God-like Spirit carried him forwards in the nobleſt Career to the Imitation of HOMER. Neither do I think that CICERO had ever been the Sovereign of Forenſian Pleading, or that his Eloquence had been ſo exquiſitely and beautifully finiſhed, had he not, like a youthful Champion, been ambitious of entering the Liſts with the GREEKS, and, by applying himſelf entirely [118] [...] [119] [...] [120]to the Imitation of thoſe excellent Models, united, in his Manner, the Force of DEMOSTHENES, the delicious Copiouſneſs of PLATO, the Sweetneſs of ISOCRATES, and the divine Simplicity of ZENOPHON. By this Means he ſo fertiliz'd his Genius, that his Eloquence ſeems to pour itſelf forth, not like the Streams of a little RIVULET, but the Rapidity of a FLOOD.

IF, DEAR SIR, Men of our Profeſſion were but inſpired with an Ambition and Thirſt of excelling one another in the Arts of fine Compoſition, or emulous of imitating the Stile and Manner of the beſt Writers this Nation affords, their Reaſoning would be much cloſer, their Stile more harmonious, and agreeable to the Ear, and their Sentiments have more of the Spirit and Flavour of Divinity. 'Tis evident that ſome in their Sermons, rather than take Pains, make Uſe of ſordid and blemiſh'd Terms; others again curtail and mince their Periods; and a third fort ſhamefully ſpin them out into a vaſt Extent, whereby their Life and Spirit evaporate, and all their Strength is loſt [121]by being quite overſtretch'd. Numerous Inſtances might be produced, to prove this, out of modern Sermons, publiſhed by Men of no ſmall Note and very ſober Underſtandings.

THAT a judicious* Choice of proper and magnificent Terms has wonderful Effects in winning upon and entertaining an Audience, cannot, I think, be denied. For 'tis from hence that the greateſt Writers derive, with indefatigable Care, the Grandeur, the Beauty, the Solemnity, the Weight, the Strength, and the Energy of their Expreſſions. This cloaths a Compoſition in the moſt beautiful Dreſs, makes it ſhine, like a PICTURE, in all the Gaiety of Colour; and, in a Word, it animates our Thoughts, and inſpires them with a kind of vocal Life. But tho' fine Words are indeed the peculiar Light in which our Thoughts muſt ſhine, yet they ſhould not every where ſwell and look big. For vulgar Terms are ſometimes much more ſignificant than the moſt ornamental [122]can poſſibly be. They are eaſily underſtood, becauſe borrowed from common Life; and what is moſt familiar to us, ſooneſt engages our Belief. Some Writers very frequently make Uſe of common and vulgar Terms that have not the leaſt Air of Elegance to recommend them, yet by muſically diſpoſing, and artfully connecting ſuch Terms, they cloath their Periods in a kind of Pomp and Exaltation, and dexterouſly conceal their intrinſick Lowneſs.

'TIS obſervable, that ſome of our modern Preachers are more happy in the Stile, than in the Sentiments of their Sermons. Their Language is very often noble and ſonorous, but the Senſe either very trifling, or elſe ſo obſcur'd by the ſounding Phraſes, hard Metaphors, and forced Expreſſions in which 'tis cloathed, that 'tis difficult to find it out. For my Part, I ſhould prefer a noble Sentiment, that is depreſs'd with homely Language, infinitely before a vulgar one, that is blown up with all the Sound and Pomp of Expreſſion. Sublime Thoughts, either by Means of a great Affinity they bear to [123]the Springs and Movements of our Souls, or by their own ſuperlative Luſtre, always out-ſhine the Artifices of Rhetorick, whoſe Appearance they cover with a Veil of ſuperior Beauties. For as the STARS are quite dimm'd and obſcur'd, when the SUN breaks out in all its blazing Rays, ſo pompous Phraſes, and towering lofty Expreſſions, are entirely overſhadowed by the ſuperior Splendor of noble Sentiments.

To the Formation of a Stile, our Reading and Imitation, if they be of the right ſort, muſt principally contribute. Whatever Sermons we hear, or however polite and agreeable their Characters may be who preach them, if the Authors we read or imitate are of another kind, we ſhall find our Palate ſtrangely turn'd their Way. We are unhappier in this reſpect, for being Scholars and Imitators, if our Studies and Patterns be ill choſen. Nor can I, for this Reaſon, think it proper to call a Man well-read, who reads and imitates many Authors; ſince he muſt of Neceſſity have more ill Models than good, and be more ſtuffed with [124]Bombaſt, ill Fancy, and wry Thought, than fill'd with ſolid Senſe, and juſt Imagination.

THO' to paſs a right Judgment upon Compoſitions is generally the Effect of a long Experience, and the laſt Improvement of Study and Obſervation, yet, ſince you requeſt it, I ſhall give you my Opinion concerning as many Authors in our Profeſſion, as I think it needful for you to read at preſent, and you may ſingle out which you pleaſe for your Imitation.

IF you would have your Underſtanding charmed, your Affections captivated, and your Paſſions directed and reſtrained by the Powers of Rhetorick, you muſt read DR TILLOTSON. There is Gracefulneſs, there is Strength, there is Spirit, there is Dignity in all he ſays. Such a divine Power and Energy, I think, never diſplay'd itſelf in ſo eaſy and genteel a Flow, and Command of Sentiment and Expreſſion, as the Sermons of this excellent Prelate.

[125]DR SOUTH has brought in a Species of Eloquence in his Sermons, that is almoſt peculiar to himſelf, and rarely to be met with among our Divines. He abounds with Turns of Wit, which are inexpreſſibly fine; and is prodigiouſly dextrous at Irony or Sneer. His Strokes of Raillery are vaſtly genteel, appoſite and proper. In Matters of Controverſy, with what Humour does he ridicule his Adverſaries, and with what Dexterity does he ſting in the Midſt of a Smile! How ſkilful at managing an Argument! Wit is not excluded by the Importance of the Subject, nor its Weight leſſen'd by the Humour.

DR SCOT's Book of THE CHRISTIAN LIFE is admirably well written; wherein we meet with the ſimple Language of Truth, which, tho' unadorn'd and without Pomp, is pure and perſpicuous.

THERE are lively Strokes of Paſſion, and numerous Beauties in* DR SHARP's Sermons, ſuch [124] [...] [125] [...] [126]as ſhew the inherent Greatneſs of his Soul. He ſtrikes with powerful Might at the Adverſaries of our Religion, is enflamed with a ſervent, and yet peaceable Vehemence and Ardour. His Stile particularly excells in Smoothneſs, and an eaſy and peaceable Flow of the Words, and yet it has ſuch an Elevation as to excite an extraordinary Emotion in thoſe eſpecially who are to be brought over by ſoft and gentle Inſinuation.

BISHOP PEARSON'S Book on the CREED is a compleat and delicate Performance; tho' he launches out into the Depths of Divinity, and ſoars to the ſublimeſt Eminence, yet he never drops, like many others, unfortunately down, but ſtill preſerves his own intrinſick Grandeur. His Arguments run rapidly along, immediately ſtrike the Imagination, inflame us with the Warmth and Fire of his own Genius, and carry all before them by the Weight and Solemnity of Thought and Expreſſion.

THERE is ſomething extraordinary, ſomething [127]more than humanly great in Dr ATTERBURY's Sermons. And for this Reaſon has the inimitable and godlike Mr POPE, unmov'd by Partiality and unbiaſs'd by Envy, awarded the Lawrels to this great Author, which flouriſh ſtill green, and will flouriſh as long as the Name of POPE has an harmonious Sound to an ENGLISH Ear. To write in a Language that is graceful and proper, that is diſtinguiſh'd by certain maſterly Touches, and an artful Poliſh, that would have ſhone in the Days of ATTICK Elegance, is the peculiar Character of Dr ATTERBURY.

IN paſſing their Judgment of Dr CLARK'S Sermons, Men commonly muſter his Imperfections, ſo that the Remembrance of his Faults ſticks indelibly in their Minds, and that of his Excellencies is quickly worn out. For my Part, tho' I cannot by any Means be blind or partial to his Faults, I have always thought that his Sermons are very grand and beautiful Compoſitions: not like thoſe of a low and grov'ling Genius, who [128]never endangers himſelf by aiming at Grandeur, but ſtill goes on in the ſame uniform ſecure Track. The whole Univerſe is ſcarce ſufficient for the extenſive Reach and piercing Speculation of Dr CLARK'S Underſtanding. His lofty Genius is frequently aſpiring to prodigious and amazing Heights, which expoſe him to ſudden Falls; and ſuch Falls ſometimes work the Good of Men. And beſides, in the Judgment of the beſt Criticks, what is truly grand in the Midſt of ſome Faults, is preferable to that, which has nothing extraordinary in its beſt Parts, correct however throughout, and faultleſs.

FOR a ſmooth and polite Stile Mr SEED is very much admir'd. That Theology of the Schools which he found undower'd, as it were, unattended, and in a Diſhabille, he has enrich'd with all the Wealth, the Pride and Ornament of Language. He gives us ſome fine SIMILIES and ALLUSIONS, which, were they not too [129]much* crowded, would be very taking and agreeable: like STARS, they would caſt a kind of Blaze about them; they would illuminate, and give a Luſtre to his Sermons.

THERE are very few Genius's that write more gracefully or copiouſly than Dr SECKER; and he has this peculiar Talent, that beſides an extraordinary Gravity, a Spirit of Benevolence and Chearfulneſs glows in his Compoſitions, which gives them a matchleſs Dignity, not only perſuades, but even throws an Audience into Tranſport.

I DO not know of an Author that meets with more general Applauſe than§ Mr LAW. Perſons [130]of different Humours, Ages, Profeſſions, and Inclinations, all agree in the ſame joint Approbation of his Writings, which Union of Aſſent gives them an indiſputable Title to our Eſteem.

WHEN you have a competent Share of acquir'd as well as natural Taſte, my Friend, you may eaſily diſcover the Value of any Performance yourſelf from a bare Recital of it. For if it is intrinſically good, the Mind is naturally elevated by it, and ſo ſenſibly affected with its lively Strokes, that it ſwells with Tranſport and an inward Pride, as if what had been only heard had been the Product of its own Invention. But if we find that it tranſports not the Soul, nor exalts our Thoughts, that it calls not up into our Minds Ideas more enlarged than what the mere Sound of the Words convey, but on attentive Examination its Dignity leſſens and declines, we may conclude, that whatever pierces no deeper than the Ears, can never deſerve our Applauſe or Imitation.

THESE few Authors I have named to you, according [131]to their Time and Age, have provided us with the richeſt ORE. To their eternal Honour they have attempted to throw off the horrid Diſcord of antiquated Proſe, falſe Grandeur, Impotence and Puerility of Sentiments. They have happily broken the Ice for thoſe who are to follow them, and who treading in their Footſteps, may at Leiſure heighten and poliſh the ENGLISH Language, lead the Ear and Underſtanding to finer Pleaſure, and find out the true, permanent, harmonious Idiom, which alone can ſatisfy a juſt Judgment, and godlike Apprehenſion.

WHENEVER we are engaged in Compoſitions of the genteeler kind, ſuch as require Grandeur of Stile and exalted Sentiments, it will then be of excellent Uſe to raiſe in ourſelves ſuch Reflections as theſe.—How in this Caſe would Dr TILLOTSON, or Dr SOUTH, have rais'd their Thoughts? —How would Dr SHARP, Dr PEARSON, or Dr ATTERBURY? For theſe celebrated Preachers, being propos'd by us for our Pattern and Imitation, will in ſome Degree lift up our Souls to [132]the Standard of their own Genius. It will be yet of greater Uſe if to the preceeding Reflections we add theſe.—What would Dr SECKER, or Mr LAW think of this Piece? Or what Judgment would they paſs upon it? How would they have expreſs'd themſelves? It is really a noble Enterprize to frame ſuch a Theatre and Tribunal to ſit on our own Compoſitions, and ſubmit them to a Scrutiny, in which ſuch eminent Writers muſt preſide as our Judges, and be at the ſame Time our Evidence. By this Method we muſt inevitably arrive at ſuch a Perfection of Stile, as to be able to give the ENGLISH Language its due MUSCLING, as the PAINTERS ſay of a good PIECE, its due Body and Proportion, and alſo the natural Ornaments of Correctneſs, Simplicity, and Grace.— But of this more in my next Letter.

I am, DEAR SIR, Yours, &c.

LETTER VIII.

[]
DEAR SIR,

TO give Majeſty, Sweetneſs, Politeneſs to a Diſcourſe, to make it ſtrike, to give it the finiſhing Touches of Eloquence, to work it up with as much of the Pathetick as is needful, we muſt have a moderate Skill in POETRY. A Man muſt be ſo much of a Poet at leaſt, as to be able to diverſify his Stile with the fineſt FLOWERS of Sentiment and Expreſſion. But they muſt not run thro' the whole of a Diſcourſe, but only ſuch particular Places as that they may [134]ſerve, like JEWELS and DISTINCTIONS in DRESS. For the finical Ornaments of a Diſcourſe, and a continued Affectation of Excellence, gives Diſguſt; 'tis not only unpleaſant to the Ear, but alſo to the Intellectual Faculties. The ſame Obſervation holds as to our other Senſes; we are leſs pleas'd with thoſe FLOWERS and PLANTS that have too high a Perfume and Fragrance, than thoſe that have but a moderate Scent; and one would rather chuſe to ſmell at the ROSE, than the MUSK-CRANESBILL. Even in the handling FRUIT there is a Degree of Softneſs and Smoothneſs. So a Sermon or Diſcourſe, if it has an undiverſify'd Height'ning and Embelliſhment of Stile, affords no laſting Pleaſure. Beſides, if it have all the Advantage of Poetical Colouring, it ought to have ſome Shade, that that which is illuminated may caſt a greater Luſtre.

IF we would embelliſh our Stile by the Subſtance as it were, and Ground-colouring of Poetical Sublimity and Grandeur, we muſt apply ourſelves diligently to the Study of the HOLY SCRIPTURES. [135]It would be worth our while to digeſt them ſo in our Minds, as to have them almoſt by Heart. For we ſhould have both nobler Sentiments and Expreſſions if we apply'd ſacred to prophane Eloquence.

THE Effect and Beauty of SACRED POETRY you will perceive, in ſome Meaſure, tho' imperfectly, from the two following SPECIMENS. I have choſe the Pathetick Kind, and ſtudy'd to repreſent the Amiableneſs of Virtue, by ſuch Foils and Contrarieties as DAVID, the Man after GOD'S own Heart, furniſhes us with, and which ſerve as Graces, if I may ſo ſpeak, in poetical Limning, and render this Muſick of the Paſſions more ſeraphick, powerful and enchanting. Had this been attempted by ſome abler Hand, you would have been led with Delight and Rapture, Anxiety and Concern, by Turns, thro' the Labyrinth of the Affections, and intereſted, whether you would or no, in the Paſſions of the ROYAL PENITENT: And in the EXHORTATION annexed, you would preſently have underſtood the Reality of [136]thoſe Charms in the SACRED WRITINGS, which by my weak Endeavours, perhaps, you will imagine not to be half ſo commanding, natural, and ſo powerful, or capable of pleaſing a judicious polite Ear, and Muſe-like Underſtanding.

[]

THE Royal Penitent, &c. A SACRED POEM.

[]

THE ROYAL PENITENT: OR, HUMAN FRAILTY DELINEATED, IN THE PERSON of DAVID. A SACRED POEM.

Delirant REGES, plectuntur ACHIVI. HOR.
IN Days of Eaſe, when now the weary Sword
Was ſheath'd, and LUXURY with CHARLES reſtor'd;
In every Taſte of foreign Courts improv'd,
* ALL, by the King's Example, liv'd and lov'd.
Then PEERS grew proud in HORSEMANSHIP t'excell,
NEW MARKET's Glory roſe as BRITAIN's fell;
The SOLDIER breath'd the Gallantries of FRANCE,
And ev'ry flow'ry COURTIER writ Romance.
Then MARBLE ſoften'd into Life grew warm,
And yielding METAL flow'd to human Form:
LELY on animated Canvas ſtole
The ſleepy Eye, that ſpoke the melting Soul.
No Wonder then, when all was Love and Sport,
The willing MUSES were debauch'd at COURT;
On each enervate String they taught the Note
To pant, or tremble thro' an EUNUCH's Throat.
POPE.

THE Royal Penitent, &c.

[]
I SING the Cauſes of a Troubled Reign,
How fleeting's Joy, how permanent is Pain;
Reaſon unthron'd, rebellious Paſſion's Sway,
The fatal Produce of a luſtful Day:
Th' Anointed Head how vicious Joys expoſe,
A Soul in Anguiſh, and a King in Woes.
LIGHT Spots on Ermine are conſpicuous ſhewn,
And doubly glare the Follies of a Throne:
How then thy Crimes, O DAVID! ſhall we ſcan?
Thou greateſt Monarch! Thou moſt God-like Man!
[142]Or how the Frailty of our Frame confeſs,
When GOD's diſtinguiſh'd Favourites thus tranſgreſs?
THE Sun a-down the Steep of Heav'n had roll'd,
And fring'd the purple Clouds with Skirts of Gold,
When ſhunning Grandeur, and the Noiſe of State,
On the high Turrets of the Royal Seat,
DAVID the Sweets of deep Reflection ſought,
Indulging all the Luxury of Thought.
ON SION'S Mount the Cedar-Fabrick ſtood,
The ruin'd Honours of the TYRIAN Wood.
Hence ſtretch'd his Eye around his large Domain,
And much he joy'd him in his ample Reign;
Pleas'd cou'd the Preſent with the Paſt compare,
The Regal Glories with the Rural Care:
The Rural Care fair BETHLEM's Hill renew'd,
Which gently riſing in the South he view'd.
Life's Steps from that diſtinguiſh'd Day could trace,
When, tho' the youngeſt of the Sons of JESSE,
[143]He firſt was deſtin'd by the Sacred Oil
To ſplendid Cares, and Eminence of Toil.
How did he once the Bear and Lion ſlay,
While yet a Swain, to ſave the fleecy Prey!
At ELAH how a beardleſs Strippling dare
The grim gigantick Terror of the War!
Harſh whizz'd the Sling, and with a thund'ring Sound
He fell enormous o'er a Length of Ground.
AND now reſolv'd he, as new Scenes he choſe,
How ſtill new Labours, and new Dangers roſe.
To Envy doom'd a Sacrifice to fall,
How twice he 'ſcap'd the vengeful Hand of SAUL;
And how he foil'd the proud GOLIAH'S Arms,
To merit MERAB'S falſely promis'd Charms.
HE next the Wonders of his Sword admir'd,
When gaily bold, by MICHAEL'S Beauty, fir'd,
Two Hundred Foreſkins of the Foe he paid,
A double Dow'ry for the Royal Maid!
[144]The Royal Maid the daring Youth approv'd,
Met her new Lord, and unreſerv'd ſhe lov'd.
NOR yet was the relentleſs Father won
By the True Subject, or the Duteous Son.
The thirſted Blood ſtill ſought he to attain
By Fraud, by Force: but Fraud and Force were vain.
The faithful MICHAEL bade her Spouſe depart,
Mourn'd him as ſick with all the Woman's Art,
But thro' a Window ſecretly convey'd,
To ſeek at RAMAH holy SAMUEL's Aid.—
THENCE fled He, the devoted Life to ſave,
Now to ADULLAM, now ENGEDDI'S Cave,
To PARAN'S Deſart, or the ZIPHITE's Wood:
To Woods, to Caves, to Deſarts, SAUL purſu'd.
TRUSTING a Foe before a Father's Wrath,
He ſought Protection in the Land of GATH.
Thro' NOB He thither paſt, a fatal Gueſt,
GOLIAH'S Sword and hallow'd Bread the Prieſt
[145]Bounteous ſupply'd: but, for the well-meant Aid,
The Lives of Fourſcore Prieſts to SAUL were paid.
AT GATH kind AKISH gave him ZICLAG's Town,
And well the Hero merited the Boon,
Till SAUL at GILBOA fell, and by his Side
The Prince, the other Half of DAVID, dy'd.
Much He the Father mourn'd, but more the Son,
He found a Sceptre, but the Friend was gone.
AND now what Wars He waged, what Labours bore,
Ere ISRAEL's Crown at Eaſe the Monarch wore,
Employ'd his Thoughts: while ISHBOSHETH in vain
Labour'd a lineal Title to maintain;
Murder'd he fell, who ill aſpir'd to rule:
A Traitor's Victom, and a Party's Tool!
The hated Crime the Murd'rers' Lives atone,
And DAVID mounts the unconteſted Throne.
[146]
AMAZING Toils! but now theſe Toils were o'er,
And baniſh'd Sorrow ſhould return no more.
United ISRAEL glory'd in his Reign,
And Heav'n his Throne had promis'd to ſuſtain;
Had deſtin'd to a long ſucceſſive Race,
Diſtinguiſh'd Glory, and peculiar Grace.
SION He ſees, by his victorious Hand,
The Seat of Worſhip, and of Empire ſtand.
The PHILISTINES and AMLECK dread his Sword,
And vanquiſh'd EDOM owns Him as her Lord.
MOAB's proud Sons a forc'd Submiſſion bring,
And SYRIA mourns in Blood the Raſhneſs of her King.
Before His Arms the Strength of AMMON falls;
And haughty HANAN trembles in his Walls,
Repents the Inſult that his Pride return'd,
The Friend provok'd, and proffer'd Kindneſs ſcorn'd.
FEAR'D by his Foes, by his Allies careſs'd,
Lov'd by his GOD, and by his People bleſs'd,
Remain'd there ought to fear? Or had there been
A happier Prince among the Sons of Men?
[147]
UNHAPPILY ſecure! Untimely vain!
Sincerer Ills, and heavier Griefs remain.
That Hour, that Eaſe thou boaſts, ſhall hurt thee more
Than all th' Injuries in Fortune's Power.
A Frontier-Town which crowded Forces ſhield,
Dares thus the gleamy Squadrons of the Field:
Secure in Arms on the high Walls they ſhine,
While the Foes labour in the ſecret Mine:
Till paſs'd the gloomy Vaults they riſe to Air,
Horribly dreadful in the proudeſt Square.
NE'ER felt his Soul the ſad Effects of Sin,
For all was pure, and all was calm within.
Tumult'ous Paſſion, Luſt, Deceit, Deſpair,
And black Remorſe, had never harbour'd there.
Nought fear'd he from himſelf, nor underſtood
DAVID was yet by DAVID unſubdu'd.
Now was the Hour ill-fated he muſt know
That vicious Pleaſures terminate in Woe.
[148]
URIAH's Garden near the Palace laid,
Where twining Trees a private Arbour made:
Yet from aloft the piercing Eye might trace
With Eaſe the Secrets of the cloſe Receſs.
Hither a Rivulet was taught to glide,
Whoſe conſtant Store a Marble Bath ſupply'd;
And here to bathe, about the ſetting Sun,
The lovely BATHSHEBA retir'd alone.
Unconſcious of a Witneſs ſhe diſplay'd,
Luxuriant Beauty in the fraudful Shade;
Her comely Limbs the curling Stream embrac'd,
And flow'd, but limpid flow'd, around her Waſte:
To the King's View her ſnowy Charms were bare,
He ſaw her naked, and he own'd her fair!
Fair!* — ſhe was wond'rous fair!
[149]A Lot too great for any Subject's Bliſs!
Oh, ſhe was Heav'n! and oh—that ſhe were his!
NOW thro' his Soul an earneſt Wiſh there fled
Of furtive Joys, and an Adult'rous Bed;
The Hands-breadth Cloud from whence the black|'ning Storm
Aroſe to wreck his Peace, and all his Joys deform.
NOR Reſt, nor Eaſe, th'intruding Thought affords,
Till he reveals the Secret to his Lords.
The Lords officious, with a courtly Care,
Diſcharge the Meſſage, and addreſs the Fair.
In moving Terms the King's Deſires convey'd,
With too much Eaſe were thoſe Deſires obey'd.
[150]Soft Love incites, and proud Ambition warms,
Weak Woman yields, and meets the Monarch's Arms.
WHILE theſe in Love the flying Hours employ,
Revel ſecure, and give a Looſe to Joy,
Laugh at the Ign'rance of the injur'd Spouſe,
The violated Bed, and cancell'd Vows;
At RABBAH's Siege URIAH ſought Applauſe,
Laviſhly valiant in his Country's Cauſe.
Till the ſad Wanton's News the King alarms,
That ſhe was pregnant by the Royal Arms.
Now muſt he be to the falſe Bed beguil'd,
The imagin'd Father of the ſpurious Child.
For this diſpatch'd a feign'd Expreſs to bring,
He leaves the Camp, attends the luſtful King.
Who wanted not (Credulity to force)
Artful Reception, and prepar'd Diſcourſe.
Enquir'd the Monarch, with deſign'd Addreſs,
The Gen'ral's Welfare, and the War's Succeſs.
Curious he ſeem'd each Circumſtance to know,
The Site, the Strength, the Number of the Foe.
[151]Receiv'd the Anſwers with majeſtick Pride,
Forc'd a kind Look, and with a Smile reply'd:
"WELL haſt thou ſatisfy'd our Royal Caire,
"Sure of our Favour to thy Houſe repair.
"Indulge the Pleaſures of the Court a while,
"A ſhort Delay ſhall give thee back to Toil.
"Let the rough Labours of the Warrior ceaſe,
"And taſte, till then ſoft Love, and joyous Eaſe."
"THESE I adjourn to Peace, the Chief rejoin'd,
"Ill ſuit ſuch Pleaſures with a martial Mind.
"The Feaſt luxurious, and the flowing Bowl,
"Unſtring the Sinews, and debaſe the Soul.
"Say, ſhall thy Soldier the fond Wife poſſeſs,
"And melt inglorious in the ſoft Careſs?
"Or preſs the downy Bed in Silk inclos'd,
"While JUDAH ſees her Ark in Tents expos'd?
"And ſheath'd in Arms the Youths of ISRAEL dare
"The gen'rous Hardſhips of the toilſome War?
"May Heav'n ſo bleſs thee, as I diſapprove
"This dull Inaction, and unmanly Love!"
[152]
To him the King:—"Enough is-giv'n to Fame,
"At leaſt a Night domeſtick Sweets may claim.
"Till Morrow's Dawn thy purpos'd Haſte delay,
"And take thy Journey with returning Day."
HE ſaid:—reſolv'd the mirthful Feaſt to prove,
If ought might fire him to the Joys of Love;
At his own Table caus'd the Chief to dine,
And the rich Goblet flow'd with gen'rous Wine:
In vain the Feaſt was ſerv'd, the Goblet flow'd,
And all his Arts the wily King beſtow'd.
Stretch'd on the lonely Couch the Night he ſped,
Nor ſought the Pleaſures of the nuptial Bed;
He ſlept:—But Sleep the Royal Eye-lids fled.
URIAH's Death the treach'rous King deſign'd,
And the black Thought deep labour'd in his Mind.
He roſe, the raſh Reſolve to JOAB wrote,
Beneath whoſe Care his Hoſts at RABBAH fought,
To place him where the ſureſt Danger lay,
In the ſharp Conflict of the doubltful Day.
Strict he enjoin'd, till by the Foes beſet,
Then to retire, and leave him to his Fate.
[153]The Royal Signet clos'd the dire Command,
And ſafe conſign'd it to URIAH's Hand.
All heedleſs of the murd'rous Charge he held,
Early the Hero haſted to the Field;
Took his laſt Orders with a joyous Mind,
And ruſh'd impatient to the Poſt aſſign'd.
He charg'd impetuous, till he ſaw, too late,
The Foes ſurrounding, and the Friends Retreat.
Yet dear reſolv'd the abandon'd Life to ſell,
Greatly he fought, as loyally he fell;
And bleſs'd, with the expiring Gaſp of Life,
Th' ungrateful Sovereign, and the faithleſs Wife.
THE Monarch heard the News with artful Care,
He blam'd the Sword, unknowing how to ſpare,
And undiſcerning Chance of waſteful War.
But now avow'd his Flame, (the Husband dead)
And took the Widow to the Royal Bed.
A Son ſhe bore; and, for a tranſient Time,
Greatly he joy'd at the ſucceſsful Crime.
[154]
ABSURD MANKIND! when in the Ways of Ill,
We for our Reaſon ſubſtitute our Will,
Fondly ſecure, and indolently gay,
In the ſmooth Calm of flatt'ring Vice we play;
Till o'er our Heads the Thunder burſting loud,
Echoes tremendous, and proclaims the GOD.
THUS DAVID found his ſanguine Hopes recede,
And all the gaudy Dream of Pleaſure fled;
When NATHAN came, a venerable Sage,
In the grave Majeſty of hoary Age.
Awful his Geſture, and his Words ſincere,
Nor knew he ought to flatter, or to fear;
He bore his GOD's Commiſſion in his Look,
Hail'd the vain King,—and thus the Prophet ſpoke.
"PLAINTIVE I come of arbitrary Ill,
"The ſad Encroachment of the lawleſs Will.
"May ISRAEL's King attend what I relate,
"And ſay, what Vengeance meets a Crime ſo great?
[155]
"WITHIN thy Realm a Man there dwelt of late,
"Bleſs'd with the Plenty of a vaſt Eſtate.
"So large his Herds, that the increaſing Breed
"Blacken'd the Vales, and low'd in ev'ry Mead;
"And Flocks ſo numerous were around him ſpread,
"That ſcarce he knew the Hills on which they fed.
"In the near Cottage liv'd a lab'ring Hind,
"Of ſcanty Fortune, but an eaſy Mind:
"Nor Sorrow he, nor Envy knew, tho' poor;
"A Lamb was all his Joy, and all his Store.
"This darling Partner of his Board and Bed,
"With Care he nurs'd, with fond Indulgence fed.
"Bred with his Children, as a Child it far'd,
"Lov'd with a Parent's tendereſt Regard.
"Mean while it chanc'd that to the neighb'ring Dome,
"An unexpected Viſitant was come;
"The lordly Maſter, for the Friend's Repaſt,
"Nor from the Flock, nor Herd, ſelects the Feaſt.
[156]"His own he ſpar'd: the little fav'rite Ewe,
"The Boſom-comfort of the Lab'rer ſlew,
"Feaſting remorſeleſs on a Neighbour's Woe."
SCARCE to the finiſh'd Tale the King ſuppreſs'd
The riſing Fury of the Royal Breaſt;
Incontinent he gave th'incens'd Reply:—
"As the LORD lives the Man ſhall ſurely die!
"The four-fold Value of the Lamb return'd,
"For Force injurious, and for Pity ſcorn'd."
THE Seer, ſtern Anger frowning on his Brow,
Reply'd; "The Man, whom thou condemn'ſt, art THOU.
"Ev'n DAVID thus hath ſinn'd:—and now prepare,
"The Sentence of an angry GOD to hear.
"BY me he cites thy Folly, and thy Pride,
"His Goodneſs ſlighted, and his Pow'r defy'd.
"Ev'n thee, O King! who durſt that Pow'r diſdain,
"Rais'd by my Favour from an abject Swain.
[157]"I gave thee Grace, I gave thee Strength in War,
"And made thy Safety my peculiar Care.
"Laviſhly bountiful, I gave thee all,
"The Wealth, the Wives, the Diadem of SAUL.
"Peace thro' thy Land, and ſmiling Plenty flow'd;
"Foes ſpoke thee Great, while Subjects ſpoke thee Good.
"Theſe Bleſſings, why could JUDAH's King deſtroy,
"For the ſhort Tranſport of a guilty Joy?
"Bethink, O King! for what haſt thou reſign'd,
"Thy Peace, thy ſweet Serenity of Mind;
"And Raptures which the virtuous Soul beſtow'd,
"Conſcious of Worth, and converſant with GOD?
"For the wild Cravings of the vicious Will,
"And falſe Appearance of a ſpecious Ill,
"Purſued with Labour, purchas'd with Deceit,
"Enjoy'd with Shame, and finiſh'd with Regret.
"Nor end the Evils of the Crime therein,
"Luſt's but the Threſhold to the Gates of Sin.
"This well thou know'ſt; for thou haſt found it lead
"To the Invaſion of the Nuptial Bed,
[158]"The baſe Deception of the fraudful Word,
"And the Friend murder'd by the hoſtile Sword.
"For this, th' inſatiate Sword with endleſs Rage
"Shall haunt thine Houſe, and perſecute thine Age.
"For this, thy Wives, eſtrang'd from DAVID's Arms,
"Shall to thy Neighbour's Bed transfer their Charms;
"Nor furtive ſhall, like thine, their Joys be hid,
"The Noon-tide Sun ſhall view the flagrant Deed.
"ISRAEL th' Juſtice of her GOD ſhall know,
"Who makes the Offender's Crime the Offender's Woe."
WHAT wild Amazement ſeiz'd the Monarch's Breaſt,
When Vice appear'd in all her Shame confeſs'd,
When now no more the gloſſy Varniſh ſhone,
The wretched Mariner conceives alone,
Who far has ſail'd; and at his wiſh'd Return
Has, thro' the Errors of a miſty Morn,
[159]With eager Joy imagin'd Land purſu'd:
But when the Splendor of the Sun renew'd,
Haſt madly mourn'd the dear Deluſion loſt,
And the Ship bulging on the rocky Coaſt.
He wept his Folly, and his Crime he own'd.
"Thy Death remitted, and thy Crime aton'd,
"Thy GOD declares, the Prophet ſaid, the LORD,
"Slow to avenge, as righteous to reward.
"Yet ſince, by this, thou didſt his Name expoſe
"To the rude Scorn of unbelieving Foes;
"Since Pleas for Vice the LIBERTINE may bring,
"From this Exceſs of JUDAH'S fav' rite King,
"Die ſhall the Offspring of th' adult'rous Womb,
"Fix'd is his Fate, and unrevers'd the Doom."
THUS ſpake the Seer; nor farther wou'd diſcloſe
The deſtin'd Series of the Monarch's Woes,
Tho' his prophetick Soul in Time's dark Law
The Scene of future Miſeries foreſaw.
The Royal Offspring what black Crimes ſhould ſtain,
A Siſter raviſh'd, and a Brother ſlain.
[160]Raſh AMNON's Death by ABSALOM decreed,
For beauteous TAMAR's violated Bed
And DAVID grieving at the impious Deed.
How he the Slain and Fugitive ſhould mourn,
Until the faithleſs ABSALOM return:
Return, accurs'd Ingratitude to ſhew,
And plunge him farther in the Depth of Woe.
How forc'd o'er JORDAN's Stream the Sire ſhould ſhun
Th' impious Arms of the rebellious Son;
Yet in the Anguiſh of a Father ſad,
With Aſhes ſprinkled, and with Sackcloth clad,
Should grieve the Conqueſt that his Death muſt coſt,
And all the Rebel in the Son be loſt.
FARTHER he ſaw him deſtin'd to ſuſtain
A deeper Anguiſh, and a keener Pain;
When ſummon'd by the unrelenting Seer
To the ſad Choice of Famine, Plague, or War.
How each keen Arrow from the Almighty's Bow
Should pierce his Soul with the ſevereſt Woe;
[161]While gaſping he ſurveys, on ev'ry Side,
The guiltleſs Thouſands for the Monarch's Pride.
OPPREST with Grief he ſaw his hoary Age
By ADONIJAH's Plot, and factious Rage:
And ev'n in Death tranſmitting with his Crown
Invidious Vengeance to his fav'rite Son.
THESE he foreſaw, yet wiſely theſe ſuppreſs'd
Safe in the cloſe Receſſes of his Breaſt.
For Heav'n in Pity to our State conceals
From human View the Courſe of future Ills.
Reluctant elſe would wretched Man eſſay
The toilſome Journey of the thorny Way.
Inly the Fortunes of the King he mourn'd,
Reſtrain'd the riſing Grief, and Home return'd.
While DAVID in th' expiring Child beheld
The ſad Predictions of the Seer fulfill'd.
Apart in Bitterneſs of Soul he ſat,
And his Repentance, as his Crime, was great.
By his EXAMPLE warn'd, may we beware
Of tempting Vice, and ſhun the fatal Snare.
[162]Or, by the Frailty of our Paſſions led,
Atone with Sorrow for the loath'd Miſdeed,
On each Offence a ſad Remembrance caſt,
And mend the FUTURE, as we mourn the PAST.
*
A Verſe of the Lord LANSDOWN.
*
IT was neceſſary here to evade the Groſſneſs of Expreſſion which is ſo frequently to be met with amongſt moſt of the prophane Poets, except the GREEKS, who were a People remarkable for Decency of this kind. There is a pretty Inſtance of this Manner in AESCHYLUS's Tragedy of AGAMEMNON, where the CHORUS ſays,
[...],
[...].
I neither ſaw nor ſpeak what follow'd next,
But CALCHAS's Arts obtain'd too well their Ends.
[]

THE ROYAL PENITENT'S EXHORTATION.

[]

THE EXHORTATION OF THE ROYAL PENITENT.

A SACRED POEM.

BEING A PARAPHRASE ON PSALM CVII.

THE Royal Penitent's EXHORTATION.

[]
HOW gracious and how great the heav'nly King,
In Praiſes endleſs, as his Mercy, ſing.
SING they his Praiſe, who, reſcu'd by his Hand,
From hoſtile Nations, ſought an happy Land.
From diſtant Realms the num'rous Wand'rers join'd,
Some left the North, and ſome the South behind.
[168]Or from the Eaſt began their tedious Way,
Or Lands that laſt enjoy departing Day.
Long did they wander with erroneous Toil
Thro' the blind Mazes of a Deſart-Soil.
No City there the weary Troops receiv'd,
No Food refreſh'd, no grateful Drink reliev'd.
Taught by Diſtreſs, from GOD they ſeek Releaſe:
He hears their Prayers, he bids their Suff'rings ceaſe,
Leads them in Safety to their wiſh'd Repoſe,
And in a City terminates their Woes.
SING then his Praiſe, ye Sons of Earth, proclaim
Your GOD, your MAKER, your DELIV'RER'S Fame.
WITH heav'nly Goodneſs bountiful he feeds
The famiſh'd Soul that his Aſſiſtance needs.
Such as in Miſery and in Fetters bound,
The Shades of Death, and darkſome Night ſurround.
Becauſe their GOD'S Indulgence they abus'd,
Slighted his Counſels, and his Laws refus'd;
[169]Till angry Juſtice deſtin'd them to bear,
Helpleſs, the heavy Miſeries of War.
Their GOD they ſought when humbled and enſlav'd:
He heard, forgave; he pity'd, and he ſav'd.
SING then his Praiſe, ye Sons of Earth proclaim
Your GOD, your MAKER, your DELIV'RER'S Fame.
NOT Gates of Braſs can his Commands reſtrain,
And Bars of Iron are oppos'd in vain.
In vain Diſeaſes all their Terrors bring,
A contrite Heart diſarms the grizly King,
The Vengeance deprecates that Folly drew,
The GOD appeaſes, and averts the Woe.
SING then his Praiſe, ye Sons of Earth proclaim
Your GOD, your MAKER, your DELIV'RER'S Fame.
[170]
* BE that their Song who in Purſuit of Gain
O'er the wide watry Waſte their Courſe maintain.
When Storms at the Almighty's Word begin,
And threat'ning Death from ev'ry Surge is ſeen.
High o'er the Ridge of ſome vaſt Wave they go,
And view all ghaſtly pale the Depths below.
[171]Then ſtooping down the ſteep Deſcent, they dread
Enormous Mountains ſwelling o'er their Head.
Unfix'd their Steps, but more confin'd their Mind,
Till to Devotion from Deſpair inclin'd,
And timely wiſe upon their GOD they call:
Huſh'd are the Winds, the boiſt'rous Billows fall,
And friendly Gales the ſhatter'd Bark convey
O'er the ſmooth Waters of a peaceful Sea.
SING then his Praiſe, ye Sons of Earth, proclaim
Your GOD, your MAKER, your DELIV'RER'S Fame.
HIM let the Tribes, him let the Elders praiſe,
With joyous Gratitude, and tuneful Lays.
Pow'rful, with Drought the wat'ry Meads to ſpoil,
And curſe with Barrenneſs the fertile Soil.
Or pleas'd to bid new Rivers take their Courſe
Thro' the waſte Deſart, from a rocky Source.
Here he commands the Hungry to reſide,
Erect a City, and new Domes provide:
To till the Ground, the gen'rous Vine to plant,
And bleſs'd with Plenty to forget their Want.
[172]Joyful to ſee their Offspring num'rous grow,
Whilſt thriving Herds o'er all the Vallies low.
Or when he gives them up to Grief a Prey,
And haughty Tyrants more oppreſſive Sway;
Them thro' wild Deſarts he permits to roam,
But brings the poor afflicted Wretches home,
Supply their Wants, and ſettles them in Peace,
And bids their Houſholds, like their Flocks, increaſe.
THE Juſt with Joy ſhall view this heav'nly Care,
The Sinner ſhall be ſtruct with ſilent Fear:
Reflection to the Wiſe it ſhall afford,
And conſcious Virtue own a gracious LORD.
*
THE Original is,— ‘They that go down to the SEA in SHIPS, that do Buſineſs in great Waters:— Theſe ſee the Works of the LORD, and his Wonders in the Deep.— For he commandeth and raiſeth the ſtormy WIND, which lifteth up the Waves thereof.— They mount up to the HEAVEN, they go down again to the DEPTHS; their SOUL is melted becauſe of Trouble.— They reel to and fro, and ſtagger like a DRUNKEN MAN, and are at their Wits End. — Then they cry unto the Lord in their Trouble, and he bringeth them out of their Diſtreſs. — He maketh the STORM a CALM, ſo that the Waves thereof are ſtill.— Then are they glad becauſe they be quiet; ſo he bringeth them unto their deſired Haven.’ — This ſingle Paſſage runs in a higher Vein of Sublimity, and has more Spirit in it than all the applauded Deſcriptions of the Authors of Antiquity put together; becauſe when the Tempeſt is in all its Rage and Fury, and the Danger become extreme, ALMIGHTY POWER is introduced to calm at once the bellowing Ocean, and give Preſervation to the miſerable diſtreſs'd. It ends in that Fervency of Devotion, which ſuch grand Occurrences are ſitted to raiſe in the Human Mind.

[173] IN the ſacred Writings, my Friend, POETRY has a finiſh'd Excellence, and RHETORICK a majeſtick Flow. Where did Eloquence ever ride in more Glory and Splendour than in the Royal PSALMIST'S Deſcriptions of the Greatneſs and Power of the ALMIGHTY? With what Loftineſs and Sublimity of Diction doth he paint the marvellous Workings of DIVINE PROVIDENCE? Where do we read ſuch ſtrange Riſings and Fallings, now the Faintings and Languiſhings, now the Terrors and Aſtoniſhments of Deſpair, venting themſelves in ſuch high amazing Strains as in the 51ſt Pſalm? Mr* DANIEL'S Paraphraſe of it is extremely beautiful; Part of which runs thus:— [174]

GREAT GOD, with conſcious Bluſhes, lo! I come
To cry for Pardon, or receive my Doom.
But oh! I die when I thine Anger meet!
Proſtrate I lay my Body at thy Feet.
How can I dare to aſk for a Reprieve?
Muſt I ſtill ſin, and will my GOD forgive?
Thy Juſtice cannot let thy Mercy flow;
Strike then, oh! ſtrike, and give the deadly Blow!
Do I ſtill live? and do I live to prove
The inexhauſted Tokens of thy Love?
This UNEXAMPLED GOODNESS wounds me more
Than e'en the Wrath I merited before.
Oh! I am all a Blot, the fouleſt Shame
Has ſtain'd my Scepter, and diſgrac'd my Name:
A Name, which once I could with Honour boaſt;
But now the Father of his People's loſt!
[175]
THO' darkly thy myſterious Prophet ſpake,
While from his Lips the fatal Meſſage brake,
Fix'd and amaz'd I ſtood, confounded whole;
Too ſoon his dreadful Meaning reach my Soul!
Thou art the Man — has fix'd a deadly Smart;
Thou art the Man — lies throbbing at my Heart.
I am—whate'er thine Anger can expreſs,
Nor can my Sorrow make my Follies leſs.
Rais'd and exalted to the firſt Degree,
Thy heav'nly Will had made the Monarch free.
The fond Reſtraint of Man I ſcorn'd to own,
But graſp'd the full Poſſeſſion of a Crown.
Indulg'd in Eaſe, I rul'd without Controul,
And, to its utmoſt Wiſh, enjoy'd my Soul.
Vain Boaſt of Pow'r! which vaniſh'd into Air,
Since I forgot the LORD, who plac'd me there.
Was it for this thou gave the glorious Land,
And thy own Flock committed to my Hand?
[176]"Was I the Shepherd to go firſt aſtray,
Till Innocence itſelf became a Prey?
Ah no! the Fault was mine, I ſtand alone:
Be thine the Praiſe, who plac'd me on the Throne;
The Guilt, the Folly, and the Shame my own.
How vile muſt I appear, how loſt a Thing!
The worſt of Tyrants, and no more a King.
O do not thou my abject State deſpiſe,
But let my Soul find Favour in thine Eyes!
WHENE'ER the horrid Deed I backward trace,
My Soul rolls inward, and forgets her Peace:
Waking I dream, and, in the ſilent Night,
A frightful Viſion ſtalks before my Sight.
The pale URIAH walks his dreadful Round,
He ſhakes his Head, and points to every Wound.
O foul Diſgrace to Arms! who now will go
To fight my Battles, and repell the Foe?
Unhurt the Coward may to Ages ſtand;
The Brave alone can die by my Command.
[177]"Oh! hold! my Brain to wild Diſtraction wrought,
I will not, cannot bear the painful Thought:
Oh! do not fly me; for thy Mercy's Sake,
Turn thee, oh! turn! and hear the wretched ſpeak.
Ev'n ſelf-condemn'd thy kneeling Servant ſave,
And raiſe a drooping Sinner from the Grave.
SPEAK, mighty GOD! and bid thy Servant live;
Let my charm'd Ears but hear the Word—forgive:
My joyful Muſe ſhall bear the Tidings round,
While liſt'ning Worlds ſhall catch the grateful Sound:
Thus other Sinners ſhall obedient prove,
And, taught by me, ſhall wonder at thy Love!
BUT oh! if ſtricter Juſtice muſt be done,
If my relentleſs Fate comes driving on,
I ſtand the Mark; whatever is decreed,
Be ISRAEL ſafe, but let its Monarch bleed.
[178]"On me, on me, thy utmoſt Vengeance take,
But ſpare my People for thy Mercy's Sake.
Oh! let JERUSALEM to Ages ſtand,
Build thou her Walls, and ſpread her wide Command:
So ſhall thy Name for ever be ador'd,
And future Worlds, like me, ſhall bleſs the LORD.

IN every Page of the Royal Pſalmiſt's Compoſitions, there are ſuch pathetick and exalted Expreſſions of FEAR and LOVE, HOPE and TRUST, and DELIGHT in the Deity, that 'tis no Wonder if ſuch a genuine and ſub5lime Penitence was able to cover a MULTITUDE of SINS. In the CLOSET he ſeems to be ſomething more indeed than Man, his Prayers are offer'd with that Fervency of Zeal, that they are like the Incenſe of an ANGEL, or SAINT in Glory.

WHAT SONG of TRIUMPH was ever writ in higher or more exalted Strains than that of [179] * MOSES?—How does he accuſtom us to mount along with him to heroick Grandeur, when [180]he ſets the Works of Omnipotence in a magnificent Light, and paints the Deity in all his Majeſty and Splendor, as in that Deſcription of the Creation of LIGHT, and the EARTHLY GLOBE, which has been already applauded by LONGINUS. ‘The JEWISH LEGISLATOR, ſays he, having conceived a juſt Idea of the Power of GOD, has nobly expreſſed it in the Beginning of his Law. And GOD ſaid—What?—Let there [181]be Light, and there was Light. Let the Earth be, and the Earth was.’—Can there be more Beauty and Harmony in Numbers, than in the SONG of* DEBORAH and BARUK.—Can any [182]thing communicate a more exquiſite Pleaſure to the Ear and the Underſtanding, than thoſe Deſcriptions [183]of the DIVINE MAJESTY in§ JOB? — Where do we find SORROW flowing in ſuch a [184]natural prevailing PATHOS, as in the Prophet JEREMY? One would think that every Letter was wrote with a TEAR, every WORD was the NOISE of a BREAKING HEART; and that the Author was one that never breath'd but in SIGHS, nor ſpoke but in a GROAN.

WHEN in turning over the ſacred Page, I read of SIMEON waiting for, and expecting DEATH, as weary LABOURERS do the EVENING SHADES, or the REWARD of their WORK; when I read St PAUL with humble Impatience expreſſing his devout Deſire of Death and Diſſolution; I muſt own, my Soul glows with Deſires to die the [185]DEATH of the RIGHTEOUS, to breathe itſelf forth not in a GROAN but an EJACULATION.

WHEN the ſame St PAUL appears before the CORINTHIANS, and diſcourſes to them on the RESURRECTION, and before his Judges, FESTUS and AGRIPPA, and harangues upon TEMPERANCE and the DAY of JUDGMENT, how full of Life and Spirit, how full of the Pathetick is his Diction? Are not his very JUDGES drawn, as it were by an ENGINE, into Compaſſion and Gentleneſs, and made to ſhudder with FEAR and TREMBLING? By the Dignity of the Subject, and the Strength of his Arguments, AGRIPPA was rous'd and alarm'd, and almoſt perſuaded to turn CHRISTIAN. This great APOSTLE, even in the Opinion of LONGINUS, [186]eminently diſtinguiſh'd himſelf by his inimitable Quickneſs and Sublimity of Stile.

THE HOLY SCRIPTURE, with regard to the divine Original, and Principle of its Laws, and as to the Weight of Authority, and Extent of Utility, is preferable to all the Volumes in the World. In the SACRED PAGE we are taught, not by Diſputations endleſs and full of Quibbling, [187]but by the Authority and Command of the ALMIGHTY, to hold faſt our Integrity, to ſubdue our Paſſions, to check all our Affections, to reſtrain our very THOUGHTS, our EYES, our HANDS, from all Manner of EVIL. The Vices, the Frauds of Mankind, are threatned to be puniſhed with Perdition, Ignominy, with Chains, with Stripes, with Baniſhment from the Preſence of the DEITY, and with ETERNAL DEATH: But we ſee that ſincere, that juſt and honeſt Endeavours are to be crown'd with Honours and Rewards, [188]GLORY and IMMORTALITY. The HOLY SCRIPTURE, in ſhort, is above all Panegyrick: 'Tis very truly and emphatically ſtiled by the APOSTLE, THE GIFT OF GOD, the Mother of all Eloquence. 'Tis not to be equall'd, either for the Flow and Copiouſneſs of the Expreſſion, or the Grandeur of the Subject, by the moſt eloquent of the Heathens. Every Sentence is lofty and ſublime, and caſts, as it were, a GLORY round it.

I am, DEAR SIR Yours, &c.

LETTER IX.

[]
DEAR SIR,

WE of this Profeſſion ought to have a becoming Smoothneſs of Delivery, and a lively ſpirited Manner of Expreſſion. There are ſome Men ſo harſh, ſo clowniſh, ſo effeminate in their Tone of Voice, ſo ſtuttering, ſo drawling, and ſpiritleſs in their Expreſſion, ſo ungraceful, aukward, and ſlovenly in their Manner of ſpeaking, that they can never be heard diſcourſing even on the moſt important Subjects with Pleaſure.

[190]AND here we may perceive the Capital Miſtake of thoſe who are entruſted with the Education of Youth; they frequently adviſe Parents to breed up their Sons to the Church, without ever conſulting their Abilities or Inclinations. The forming of Youth was reckon'd a Matter of that Conſequence by the polite ATHENIANS, that the Education of their Children was under the Direction of particular INSPECTORS and CENSORS, accountable to the STATE. And indeed it requires the greateſt Delicacy and Strength of Mind to perform ſo difficult and arduous a Taſk as it ought. 'Tis exceedingly hard, in the Beginning eſpecially, to pry into the Souls of young Perſons, and diſcover the different Bent of Genius in each; not to ſay that the DAWN of Genius is often as flattering as the SERENITY of an APRIL MORNING, or the Bloom of a forward FLOWER, ſeen and admired one Moment, and loſt in the next.

A Maſter or Tutor ought above all Things to have a ſpecial Attention to the Caſt of Genius with which Nature has endow'd his Pulpils or [191]Scholars. For we perceive that in the ARTS, the ſame Schools, as it were, furniſh, and the ſame CRAFTSMEN and MECHANICKS form, Scholars in the ſeveral Arts, each unlike the one to the other, yet all of them excellent in their Kind; therefore the Tutor or Teacher ought to accommodate his Manner to the ſeveral Capacities of Youth. He muſt try what becomes them beſt, what Lenghts they can go with regard to their Voice, their Strength, their Lungs; and if he finds they have any thing downright averſe in their Natures for the Attainments neceſſary in our Profeſſion, or any thing ſhocking in their Manner of ſpeaking, which the Refinements of Art and Study cannot remedy, he ſhould adviſe them to turn their Views to ſome other Way of Life, and not unmercifully beat and flog out of them, as is the Practice of but too many, the few Grains of Genius Nature has given them. An ingenuous Mind will ſooner be wrought upon by mild Treatment, than by Violence and Rigour; which rather ſeem a Diſcharge of the Maſter's Spleen and Paſſion, than intended for the Scholar's Advantage. [192]There is a certain Heſitancy and Baſhfulneſs in ſome Natures which muſt not be check'd, but puſh'd forward with as much Care and Diligence, as a ſkilful ARTIST in GARDENING would the Circulation of an EXOTICK PLANT in his GREEN-HOUSE, or a TREE in his ORCHARD that is a baſhful Bearer. SEVERITY ſhould never be made Uſe of till all gentler Methods have been tried, and found unſucceſsful; then indeed it may be practis'd as the ultimate Remedy, but then too with Diſcretion, ſo as to carry nothing of Revenge along with it, ſo as to be no greater than Neceſſity requires, and to continue no longer than till it produces either Amendment, or diſcovers an utter Incapacity for Learning.

I MUST own, the Maſter is not always to blame for recommending Youth that are a little thickſkull'd, have ſlender Parts, and ſlow Apprehenſions, to go into our Profeſſion; becauſe, I believe, 'tis ſometimes the Parents' Fault, their take a particular Liking to it, and therefore de [...]e their [193]Sons may be of it. But in ſo great, ſo important, and weighty an Affair of Life, Parents ought to conſider the Capacities of their Children, more than their own Inclinations. Yet Maſters are ſo far to blame, as when they cannot keep their Temper, and bear the Tediouſneſs of learning thoſe with Patience who have none of the quickeſt Parts. They ought to wait the Iſſue of their Hopes, however long it may be deferr'd. There are many excellent Tempers, ſays an ingenious Perſon, which are worthy to be nouriſhed and cultivated with all poſſible Diligence and Care, that were never deſign'd to be acquainted with ARISTOTLE, TULLY, or VIRGIL; and there are as many who have Capacities for underſtanding every Word thoſe great Perſons have writ; and yet were not born to have any Reliſh of their Writings. Such therefore (as I intimated before) ſhould be ſent to ſome Mechanick Way of Life, without reſpect to their Birth, if Nature deſign'd them for nothing higher, for 'tis no Guilt to be an honeſt plain TRADESMAN or MECHANICK. But before they go to what they have the moſt natural Propenſity [194]to, let them be allur'd to Habits of Virtue, and their Minds train'd to a Senſe of Honour and Religion, whilſt they are in the Simplicity of their native Innocence, full of Shame, and capable of any Impreſſion from that Grace of Soul; and let not the Sparks of Virtue be extinguiſh'd in them for Want of Patience, Care, and Culture; the moſt excellent Natures are ſoon depreciated and ſpoil'd by Negligence and Impatience, and Want of proper Application to exalt them into good Habits.

‘PLANTS and VEGETABLES are cultivated into the Production of finer Fruit than they would yield without that Care. NATURAL HISTORIANS tell us, that no Fruit grew originally among us, beſides HIPS and HAWS, ACORNS and PIG-NUTS, with other Delicacies of the like Nature; that our Climate of itſelf, and without Culture, can make no farther Advances towards a PLUMB than to a SLOE, and carries an APPLE to no greater Perfection than a CRAB; that our MELONS, our PEACHES, [195]our FIGS, our APRICOCKS, and CHERRIES, are Strangers among us, imported in different Ages, and naturaliz'd in our ENGLISH GARDENS by Culture; and that they would all degenerate and fall away into the Traſh of our own Country, if they were wholly neglected by the PLANTER, and not cultivated, but left to the Mercy of our SUN and SOIL. Neither, I think, can we hope to model a tender conſcious Spirit into Acts of Virtue, without the ſame Method as is uſed to improve the VEGETABLE WORLD, to cut TIMBER, or give new Shape to a Piece of STONE or MARBLE.’

OUR modern forward SLIPS of Quality put forth nothing but BLOSSOMS, and continue a kind of overgrown Children all their Lifetime. The Reaſon is, YOUNG MASTER is not ſuffer'd by the FOND MAMMA to be too much plagued with going to SCHOOL, for fear of breaking his Spirits, making him bookiſh, and ſo fit for nothing but to make a PARSON.—How do theſe Sparks [196]behave themſelves in the Prime of Life? In RELIGION, they are generally FREE-THINKERS (in the worſt Senſe of the Word) from the want of an early pious Education; in POLITICKS, they are Slaves to the Party whoſe Principles they were brought up in; in MORALS, they are looſe; and above all other Evils, deteſt SOLITUDE and MATRIMONY: the firſt, becauſe it would make them converſe with themſelves; and the latter, becauſe it might lead them into the Company of a Perſon, towards whom they know not how to behave, viz. that of A MODEST WOMAN.

As to a PUBLICK or PRIVATE EDUCATION, 'tis not yet determined, I think, which is moſt eligible; ſometimes the one, and ſometimes the other is preferr'd, according to the Fancy of People of fine Taſte. As in ancient PERSIA the Youth of Quality was put to a polite MEDE for Education, ſo the Child of Diſtinction about ********* is happy in having his ************** for his publick or private Tutor. As young Maſter is only deſign'd for a fine Gentleman, it [197]would give an unhappy Biaſs to his Infant-Mind, to make a good found PROTESTANT, an orthodox CHRISTIAN, or a loyal SUBJECT of him; the Child, to be ſure, is too young to imbibe the Principles of Diſobedience to his GOD, or his PRINCE, from the Policies and Maxims of a ******** Teacher; there is no Need to make LOYALTY of either Kind habitual to it, or to take Care that DISLOYALTY do not become ſo in its Stead.

BUT if you were to demand my Opinion concerning a publick or private Education, which ought to have the Preference, I ſhould tell you, that the Youth who is like a weak BARK, which in boiſterous SEAS and WINDS carries too much SALL, and too little Ballaſt, whoſe JUDGMENT is weak and unſteady, and whoſe PASSIONS are light and violent as HURRICANES, ought unqueſtionably to have a private Education; but ſedater Tempers a publick one. It ought no more to derogate from the Excellency of the latter, becauſe of the Miſcarriages of ſome unhappy Natures, than ſome few SHIPWRECKS ought to [198]diſcredit NAVIGATION, or the failing of ſome few TRADERS diſparage ART and INDUSTRY; 'tis enough that the experienced and ſkilful, the careful and diligent, do generally ſail ſucceſsfully. What valuable Treaſures have been deriv'd to Poſterity from thoſe famous Schools of PYTHAGORAS, SOCRATES, ZENO, PLATO, ARISTOTLE, inſtituted at ATHENS; and thoſe of POLYBIUS, CARNEADES, DIOGENES, CRITOLAUS, and others, ſet up at ROME; by whoſe noble Precepts and Inſtructions were formed the learned and eminent Heroes of Antiquity, that have done Honour to Human Nature, and left ſuch Tracts of Glory behind them, as diſtinguiſh the Years in which they acted their Parts from the ordinary Courſe of Time?

BUT to reſume. As there is a Manner of ſpeaking in which nothing ſhocks an Audience, nothing can diſguſt, nothing can diſpleaſe it; a Manner in which there is nothing that is uncouth, harſh, or untunable, nothing that is aukward, ruſtick, or ſlovenly, nothing that is drowſy, dry, [199]and ſpiritleſs; we muſt follow that, and endeavour to ſpeak quickly, ſmoothly, and gently. For an Audience of all Things cannot endure to hear a SERMON drawlingly preached, or the Divine Service negligently ſlubber'd over, read in a lifeleſs, cool, diſpaſſionate Manner, or yet ſpoke with puffing and ſwelling. Such is the Effect of a feeling Manner of ſpeaking, that it becomes, as it were, the PICTURE of our own Minds, and conciliates the Eſteem and Attention of our Hearers. The COMMON PRAYER eſpecially makes a deeper Impreſſion upon them, when they perceive in us a proper Fervour and Emotion of Soul. For as no MATTER is ſo combuſtible as to kindle without the Application of Fire; ſo no one's Mind is ſo ſuſceptible of the Power of DEVOTION, as to catch its Blaze, unleſs we, when we read Prayers, appear to be ſo affected, as to be all of a Flame ourſelves. In ſhort, a becoming PATHOS and Energy of Diction animates an Audience with uncommon Life and Spirit, and gives mere Words the Force, as it were, of Inſpiration.

[200]

How pathetick and beautiful is URANIUS'S Manner of reading the COMMON PRAYER! HE reads the whole Service ſo diſtinctly, ſo emphatically, ſo fervently, that 'tis next to an Impoſſibility to be unattentive. Peoples' Eyes and Thoughts cannot wander as they uſually do when ſome others read, but are confin'd to their Prayers; their Minds are really affected, and fervent Wiſhes accompany their Words. For HE reads the CONFESSION with ſuch a reſign'd Humility, the ABSOLUTION with ſuch a comfortable AUTHORITY, the THANKSGIVINGS with ſuch a religious JOY, as makes his HEARERS feel thoſe Affectons of the Mind that HE himſelf does, they ſeem tranſported in their Addreſſes to the ALMIGHTY, and, as it were, in HEAVEN.

I would propoſe this Clergyman as a Pattern to all thoſe of our Profeſſion, who murder the DIVINE Service by their Manner of reading it. The EXAMPLE of ſuch an excellent Reader would make thoſe that are afraid of [201]ſtretching their Mouths, and ſpoiling their Lungs, learn to read with Clearneſs, Loudneſs, and Strength; and others that affect a rakiſh negligent Air, by folding their Arms, and lolling on their Book, would be taught by HIM a decent Behaviour, and a comely Erection of Body: Thoſe that read ſo faſt, as if impatient of their Work, may learn by HIM to ſpeak deliberately. There are another Sort of Perſons whom we may call PINDARICK READERS, as being confin'd to no ſet Meaſure; theſe pronounce five or ſix Words with great Deliberation, and the five of ſix ſubſequent ones with as great Celerity: The firſt Part of a Sentence with a loud exalted Voice, and the latter Part with a low ſubmiſſive one: Sometimes again with one ſort of Tone, and immediately after with a very different one. Theſe Gentlemen might learn of my admir'd READER URANIUS, an Evenneſs of Voice and Delivery; and all who are innocent of theſe Affectations, but read with ſuch an Indifferency, as if they did not underſtand the Language, or [202]were reading a BALLAD or NEWS PAPER, may be inform'd by HIS EXAMPLE of the Art of reading Prayers movingly and fervently, how to place the Emphaſis, and give the proper Accent to each Word, and how to vary the Voice according to the Nature of the Sentence.

How great an Influence would the Service of our Church have on the People, containing the beſt Prayers that ever were compos'd, and that in Terms moſt affecting, moſt humble, and moſt expreſſive of our Wants, and Dependance on the Subject of our Worſhip, diſpos'd in a moſt proper Order; and void of all Confuſion; what Influence, I ſay, would theſe Prayers have, were their exalted Senſe not depreciated by the diſpaſſionate Indolence of the Readers here complain'd of, but deliver'd in the Manner that URANIUS does, with a due Emphaſis, and appoſite riſing and Variation of Voice, the Sentence concluded with a gentle Cadence, and, in a Word, with ſuch an Accent and Turn of Speech as is peculiar to Prayer.

[203]WE of this Profeſſion, my Friend, ought to keep clear of the INDECENCIES of AFFECTATION in Preaching. For Affectation fills the Mouths of Men with Bombaſt and Fuſtian, and gives them ſuch Sentiments as proceed rather from a lofty Swelling and Tumor, than a true Greatneſs of Mind, and ſuch an ungraceful Action, Dreſs, and Delivery, as makes them perfectly ridiculous. GERYO has furniſhed himſelf with a well comb'd Toupee, and an immutable Countenance, has got a Jauntee Air, oppoſes his Front to the Ladies, ſtares ſedately between every Sentence, nor will he give over this his ſurprizing Rhetorick, till he has ſtar'd every one of his fair Audience out of Countenance.

DIABLINTES has got it into his Head that the WHITE GLOVE is a great Help to a polite Preacher, if uſed with Skill and Judgment. The diſplaying a fine Glove as white as Lilly, when the Hand waves gently along with a ſoft ſmooth Period, adds an irreſiſtable Force, ſays, DIABLINTES, to whatever you deliver, gives [204]it the Stamp of Sublime, and makes it appear with an inimitable Grace and Elegance. Inſtead of puſhing your Adverſary Home in a Controverſial Sermon, continues he, with MODE and FIGURE, MAJOR and MINOR, there is no more neceſſary, but to make an Extenſion of that Hand on which you wear your Preaching Glove, and you'll infallibly be adjudged Victor, by your Auditors.

SANDROCOTUS holds the thumping the CUSHION as a powerful Auxiliary in the Pulpit. The thumping it every now and then, may ſupply a Pauſe, ſays he, expreſs JOY, ANGER, or ſeveral other Paſſions, according to the Action or Manner you uſe in thumping it. A late celebrated Preacher, adds he, who generally had the good Fortune to pleaſe, on any Emergency in the Pulpit had immediate Recourſe to the EXPRESSIVE THUMP, and ſeldom without Succeſs.

CYZICENUS thinks he charms both the great and ſmall Vulgar with the Aſſiſtance of a beautiful [205]WHITE HANDKERCHIEF. Whenever he is like to be at a Loſs, he never makes a HUM or HA, but whips from under his Gown his DECLAMATORY HANDKERCHIEF in ſo pretty, genteel, and elegant a Manner, that it immediately cauſes a Redundancy of Wit, he tells you, Fluency of Words, Propriety of Expreſſion, and Impetuoſity of Diction, &c.

WE ſee a thouſand Abſurdities committed, DEAR SIR, by theſe finical affected Coxcombs, which the very Vulgar, I am ſure, would be aſham'd of, and the moſt illiterate Hearer condemn. ‘But if any one be ſurpriz'd, ſays the ROMAN ORATOR, that theſe Things are diſcerned and mark'd by the moſt vulgar Audience, he need but only reflect how great and incredible the Force of Nature is in every Thing, eſpecially in this; for every Man has within him a certain tacit Senſe, which enables him to diſtinguiſh what is right or wrong in Arts and Sciences, and this without Inſtruction and Information. If this Obſervation holds good with regard to [206]Pictures, Statues, and other Works, in criticizing which, they have leſs Aſſiſtance from Nature, 'tis much more evident in the Judgment they form upon Words, Harmony, and Delivery, becauſe this is a Judgment implanted in the Senſes that are common to all Mankind: 'Tis a Faculty which Nature never meant that any rational Creature ſhould be abſolutely without.’

CICERO de Orat. Lib. 3.

THE common People are not ſuch ſtupid Clod Pates (tho' they want Politeneſs) but they can judge of the Refinement of thoſe Pleaſures which Nature has dictated. I have, I aſſure you, ſeen both Wit and Pleaſantry, and Diſcernment among them, and as perfect as is needful to their Circumſtance.

A CERTAIN LORD taking a Walk with a Gentleman near a Country Village, ſaw a poor BOY dragging a CALF Home with both his Hands; ‘You ſhall ſee, ſays my LORD, laughing, [207]I'll make the Boy leave his Calf;’ ſuppoſing the Boy would have pull'd off his HAT to him; but being diſappointed, ‘Sirrah, ſays he, don't you ſee me, and d'ye keep your Hat on?" "A'n't pleaſe your LORDSHIP to hold my Calf, (reply'd the Boy) I'll pull it off; but at preſent, you ſee, I have my Hands full.’

AN illiterate COUNTRY FARMER once took a Fancy to hear the LATIN DISPUTES of DOCTORS at an UNIVERSITY. He was aſk'd what Pleaſure he could take in viewing ſuch Combatants, when he could never know ſo much as which of the Parties got the better. ‘For that Matter, (reply'd the FARMER) I a'n't ſuch a Fool neither, but I can ſee who's the firſt that puts the other in a Paſſion.’ Nature herſelf dictated this Leſſon to the Farmer; that he, who had the better of the Argument, would be eaſy and well-humour'd; but he, who was unable to ſupport his Cauſe by Reaſon, would naturally loſe his Temper, and grow violent.

[208]I HAVE ſeen low and uncultivated Minds ſurprizingly affected on beholding thoſe noble Pieces of Painting, the celebrated CARTOONS of RAPHAEL, at HAMPTON COURT. To ſee the ſilent Eloquence, the earneſt enforcing Look, the devout Geſture of St PAUL preaching, is not a dumb Entertainment to the Eye of the Vulgar, but a ſpeaking Image to their Minds, that awakens every drowſy Sentiment in them, and hurries them by an amazing and imperceptible Violence, thro' every Paſſion repreſented on the living CANVAS.

WHAT draws together the numerous Crowds of the ſmall and great VULGAR in LONDON, to hear* HIS GRACE OF CANTERBURY, the BRITISH CICERO, harangue in the Pulpit, but the Rapture which his Language never fails to inſpire, and that Softneſs of Delivery, and modeſt Action, which engages the Attention, and charms every Faculty? There is indeed ſo much [209]Spirit, ſo much Force, ſo much Paſſion in his Eyes, his Features, and his Air, (nay, his very Hands have an artleſs Meaning in them) ſo powerful is the Torrent of weighty, well-choſen Expreſſions, ſo entire his Sentiments, ſo juſt, ſo new, with ſo unaffected, ſo manly a Glow, that there is not a Soul in his Audience can help being all in a Flame.

A MODEST Action and Delivery carry an extraordinary Prejudice in their Favour, an irreſiſtable Force, by recommending the Goodneſs of a Man's Heart. The Man who diſcovers no Symptoms of being being abaſh'd at committing Indecencies, in CICERO's Opinion, deſerves not REPROOF only, but PUNISHMENT. So great a Veneration had the † ROMA SENATE for a* [210]becoming Baſhfulneſs in ſpeaking, that they pardon'd the flagrant Miſdemeanours of King PHILIP, for the ſake of the modeſt Eloquence of his Son DEMETRIUS, who was thrown into Confuſion and Silence on barely hearing the long Catalogue of his Father's Crimes. The Man who excells in Preaching, is generally the more ſenſible of its Difficulty, he is under the greateſt Concern how to anſwer the Expectation of his Hearers. But the Man who can compaſs nothing worthy of his Profeſſion, worthy of the Name of a Preacher, or worthy the Attention of his Hearers, is ſeldom under any Concern, he has not the Grace either to bluſh at, or to avoid Indecencies. Some indeed put on a demure Look, and counterfeit an [211]Air of Baſhfulneſs and Modeſty, but then it ſits upon them with ſo little Eaſe and Grace, that an Audience preſently detects the Cheat, and deteſts it. For there is as much Difference between a natural Shame, a real Emotion of Soul, and a counterfeit one, as there is between the LIGHT that glitters in a DIAMOND, and that which faintly imitates it in a PEBBLE.

THUS far, Dear Sir, of a Clergyman's LEARNING and Skill in DIVINITY and ELOQUENCE; — ‘That he may be a Workman that needeth not be aſhamed.’—To be an excellent Preacher, I know, requires the Study and Practice of a Man's Life, a peculiar Genius, and a noble Stock of Nature; but all of us (ſince we are frequently requir'd to ſpeak in Publick) ſhould arrive at ſuch a Degree of Learning and Eloquence, as to ſpeak in proper and handſome Terms, to expreſs ourſelves with Clearneſs, and with ſo much Gracefulneſs, at leaſt, as our Matter may not ſuffer by our Language, nor our Language by our Delivery. [212]livery. But it will be highly uſeful, beſides this, to adorn our Diſcourſe with the more SELECT PHRASES, and refin'd Forms of Speech, which will make it reliſh better, eſpecially to the Auditors of the better Breeding; to illuſtrate it, when Occaſion requires, with eaſy and decent Metaphors, not fordily mean, nor prodigiouſly vaſt; to be able to command the Uſe of natural and elegant SIMILITUDES, for ILLUSTRATION, and not for VARNISH; to know what Words to uſe to aggravate, and what to extenuate, with a Regard had always to Truth and Sobriety; to delineate a VIRTUE or a VICE, a GOOD or a BAD MAN in ſuch proper and natural Colours, as may raiſe the Eſteem or Averſion, the Love or Hatred of our Auditors to them at Pleaſure; if we can arrive to this, then we ſhall, in a true Senſe,— DOMINARI IN CONCIONIBUS—be LORDS over the Affections of our Hearers; which if we take Care to join with orthodox ſound Doctrine, and good Reaſoning, we ſhall then have the ſame Advantage for VIRTUE, which the DEVIL has [213]againſt it, that is, we ſhall have all the Warmth of of MENS' PASSIONS pleading for it.

I am, DEAR SIR, Yours, &c.
[]THE POSTSCRIPT.
DEAR SIR,

I Shall now ſhew you, by way of POSTCRIPT, what is requir'd to make a CLERGYMAN an ORTHODOX TEACHER,— "rightly dividing the WORD of TRUTH." — Now to do this, he muſt be lawfully called to the MINISTRY. He cannot divide the WORD rightly if he have a wrong Title to do it, if he do it upon his own Head, or upon inſufficient Authority. Now, I think, 'tis ſufficiently prov'd, even to the ſilencing GAINSAYER, that the only ordinary [216]lawful Call into the Miniſtry is by EPISCOPAL ORDINATION. For we find no Ordination in Scripture but what was made by the APOSTLES, and whom they had before ordain'd Biſhops, as is clear by the Example of PAUL, BARNABAS, and TITUS; and never any Ordination by PRESBYTERS was ever ſo much as dreamt of till of late Years, and that was only to ſerve a Turn at GENEVA. Therefore all that come rightly into the Clergy, muſt come this Way. 'Tis not the being of a pert confident Humour, or a popular noiſy Eloquence, that gives a Man a Commiſſion to divide the WORD of TRUTH, but this lawful Means which CHRIST has inſtituted; this is the only DOOR which our BLESSED LORD has made to come into the CHURCH, and then he has made the Conſequence, that they who come in otherwiſe are THIEVES and ROBBERS. Without a lawful ORDINATION a Man has no more Title to the PRIESTHOOD than he has to the CROWN, and the Crime of each Preſumption is equally great, only the Laws are more fevere againſt the one than the other. But when [217]GOD took the Execution into his Hands, the Caſe was otherwiſe; for when KORAH, DATHAN, and ABIRAM, uſurp'd the Prieſthood, they found as dreadful a Puniſhment as ever any Traitor ſince.

LIVY in his* Hiſtory tells us, that the Family of the POTITII, who had the Privilege of performing the Prieſtly Office at the Altar of HERCULES, called the ARA MAXIMA, having by the Advice of APPIUS the Cenſor, inſtructed ſome publick Servants in the ſolemn Rites of their Function with a Deſign to commit the Exerciſe of their Office to them as their Delegates, an amazing Effect enſued, and one, ſays the Hiſtorian, that may juſtly deter from making any Alteration in Religion, for tho' there were at that Time twelve Families of the POTITII, and thirty Perſons above the Age of fourteen Years, they all dy'd within the Space of one Year thereafter, and the whole Race became extinct. Nor is it only [218]obſerv'd, continues he, that the Name of the POTITII periſh'd upon this Occaſion, but alſo that APPIUS the Cenſor, ſome Years after, by the laſting Reſentment of HEAVEN, entirely loſt the Sight of his Eyes.

HE muſt be no SCHISMATICK. If a Man comes into the Church ever ſo regularly, yet if he ſchiſmatically makes a Separation from it, he is no orthodox Teacher, he does not righty divide the Word of Truth, becauſe he takes wrong Meaſures to do it; he has [...]o Commiſſion to be a Teacher out of the Church, his Orders do not qualify him to ſet up Altar againſt Altar, but he acts as heinouſly as if he preach'd the Goſpel without any Orders at all. Our BLESSED SAVIOUR in the whole Tenour of his Doctrine preaches up Peace and Unity; in his dying Speech to his Diſciples, he ſays, ‘Peace I leave with you, my Peace I give unto you.’ The APOSTLE does, with all the pathetical Endearments imaginable, engage us to UNITY, ‘If there be any CONSOLATION in CHRIST, ſays he, if there be any COMFORT [219]in LOVE, &c. fulfill ye my Joy, that ye be all like-minded.’

NOBLE was that ANSWER of a certain PRELATE, and worthy of a Chriſtian Biſhop, to a PRIME MINISTER'S Letter, containing a Reproof for holding ſome orthodox Opinions which the Miniſter did not like.—A BISHOP, whoſe ‘Conſcience cannot reproach him, who likes the Place of his Reſidence, and has no Ambition to live within the Sun-ſhine of a Court, need fear nothing of what your LORDSHIP can write to him. As a NOBLEMAN, I pay you Reſpect; as a MINISTER of State, I have nothing to do with you; as a CHRISTIAN, I am accountable to GOD alone. 'Tis before his TRIBUNAL I hope to render myſelf acceptable, where we muſt both of us appear ſhortly: And it behoves you, my LORD, to take heed, leſt you ſhould not find there the ſame Favour as in the COURTS of MEN.’

HE muſt not be an HERETICK, one that [220]holds an erroneous FAITH concerning the fundamental Parts of Religion, concerning the DIVINITY, the INCARNATION, SATISFACTION of our LORD; concerning the DEITY of the HOLY GHOST, and the Neceſſity of his GRACE; ſuch an one is ſo far from being a right Divider of the Truth, that he teaches a falſe Religion, and another Goſpel; ſuch an one ought not to continue a Member of CHRIST'S Flock, much leſs a Teacher and Paſtor of it.

HE muſt not be an obſtinate Defender of any falſe or erroneous Doctrine of leſſer Moment. For let the Doctrine be of ever ſo ſmall Moment, 'tis ſtill an Oppoſition againſt the Truth, 'tis a confronting of GOD's WORD, and an innovating in the Doctrine of the CATHOLICK CHURCH. Beſides, 'tis very dangerous to have a Teacher of ſuch erroneous Opinions; becauſe 'tis very natural for the People to imbibe them from him, and they may be tempted in Time, for the Eſteem they have for their Paſtor, to make a formal Schiſm.

[221]FOR a MINISTER to be an ORTHODOX TEACHER, he muſt not teach uncertain Truths. The APOSTLE bids us exhort with ſound Doctrine, not to build with HAY and STUBBLE; and he himſelf came with DEMONSTRATION, as well as POWER; and the other Apoſtles taught what they had heard and ſeen; which ought to be well conſider'd by thoſe Divines, who value themſelves upon their new-fangled NOSTRUMS in DIVINITY, and fine-ſpun Inventions in this Science. For Divinity is a Thing which is recommended moſt by Antiquity. Our FAITH was but once delivered to the SAINTS, and ſo leaves no Room for the Wits of later Ages. But if Men muſt be ſhewing their Parts, and giving the World a Caſt of their rare Inventions, they have a large Scope for it elſewhere, but, by all Means, they ought to ſpare DIVINITY.

HE ought to ground his Doctrine upon SCRIPTURE, and the EXPLICATION of the CATHOLICK CHURCH. TO teach Doctrines without the Confirmation of Scripture, is to teach the [222]Doctrines of Men; and to explain Scripture otherwiſe than the Church of GOD has done in all Ages, is always Preſumption, and frequently Hereſy, All Doctrines, and Explications of Faith eſpecially, were ſuperabundantly ſifted by ancient Councils and Writers, when they were Matter of Debate for ſo many Ages; and therefore we ought to ſtick to their Notions and Expreſſions of theſe facred Truths, who are ſuppos'd to underſtand them better than any ſingle modern Divine, who has only convers'd with his own Thoughts. Now to remedy this, we ought to ſtudy DIVINITY firſt out of the HOLY SCRIPTURE, and next out of the FATHERS, who, let ſome Men ſay what they will, were Men of very good Senſe, and talk very intelligibly: and tho' the SOCINIANS and REMONSTRANTS may have more of Method, Cloſeneſs, and Subtilty, they have that which makes Alloy for all this, a great deal more of HERESY.

AND now, (my Friend!) I can perceive 'tis Time to put an End to this Epiſtolary Correſpondence. [223]I have taken the Liberty, you ſee, to laugh upon ſome Occaſions; and if I have either laugh'd wrong, or been impertinently ſerious, I can be content to be laugh'd at in my Turn; for my Humour does not very much incline me to melancholly Reflections. I have very freely, and without the leaſt Reſerve, given you my Sentiments concerning the neceſſary Qualifications of a Miniſter of the Goſpel, as he is a CHRISTIAN, a PASTOR, and a CATHOLICK; and I pray GOD, if you go into HOLY ORDERS, you may do your Duty in all theſe Reſpects. But a Good Life ought to be the Principal of your Aim, for a wicked Life is the worſt of HERESIES, and a Miniſter may do more Miſchief to Religion by one ill Action, than Good by a Hundred fine Sermons. Nay, we undo all we preach by an ill Practice, for Men have Reaſon to think that That Doctrine ſhould not have any Influence upon their Lives, which they ſee has none upon our own. To me, indeed, it ſeems ſurprizing, that an immoral Clergyman can have the Conſidence to appear or preach in Publick; for all his Declamations [224]againſt Vice, are but ſo many Libels againſt himſelf, and every Time he gets up into the Pulpit, he is but doing a PUBLICK PENANCE to the whole Congregation. Let me intreat you therefore ſteadily to adhere to the Practice of Virtue; dare to oppoſe yourſelf to the licentious Cuſtoms of a degenerate Age, wherever you go; and by a good Example, endeavour to ſtem the Torrent of Vice. Don't bluſh to own your Obligations daily and hourly to that great Being, who fills the Univerſe with the wondrous Exertions of his Wiſdom and Power; give him your higheſt Eſteem, your higheſt Reverence, and ſupreme Regard. Let your Devotion to him ſpring from Love and Gratitude, and never mention his Name without a reſpectful and humble Awe; regard his Favour as the higheſt Bleſſing; and endeavour to imitate and follow the bright Example, which the BLESSED AUTHOR of our Religion has ſet before us. Believe me, my DEAR FRIEND; there is no Compariſon between a wicked and a good Life: A good Life, ſtor'd with every moral and religious [225]Virtue, reſembles HEAVEN, methinks, its CANNOPY ſtuck with STARS and CONSTELLATIONS. A Clergyman who is conſcious of having done his Duty, enjoys a moſt refin'd and rational Delight; but he who wants the Secret Witneſs of an approving Conſcience, is never ſeen to have that ſerene Compoſure, and Self-complacency, which becomes a Miniſter of CHRIST.

In a Word; let your Countenance be open, and your Boſom cloſe; let your Beneficence be attended with a Familiarity ſo circumſcrib'd as to impreſs Love and Reſpect; and let all your Actions appear conſiſtent with the Dignity of your Profeſſion, that you may be upon Earth a true Image of the Deity, by giving all Mankind certain and impartial Marks of your Probity and paternal Love for the People under your Care, whoſe Hearts if you gain, you poſſeſs the moſt precious of all Treaſures: A Treaſure which that brave ROMAN* L. CAECILIUS METELLUS, looked [226]upon as ſacred, and obliged even the High Prieſt of MARS, A POSTHUMIUS ALVINUS, to Reſidence, and would by no Means diſpenſe with his Abſence from the Charge committed to him.

As a frequent Conſideration of the Nature of our HIGH OFFICE will be a continual Encouragement for us to do our Duty, I ſhall conclude all with an excellent Obſervation of St CHRYSOSTOM to this Purpoſe; ‘THEREFORE has the LORD choſen us to be the LIGHTS of the World, and the LEAVEN of the [227]LUMP, to be MASTERS and TEACHERS of other Chriſtians; to be, as it were, ANGELS aſſociating with Men on Earth, as MEN converſing with Children, as thoſe of a ſpiritual Nature with the groſs, animal and carnal; ſo that by our Converſation they might reap an extraordinary Advantage.’

I am, DEAR SIR, Yours, &c.

A LETTER TO THE AUTHOR.
[] A LETTER TO THE AUTHOR, ON THE DEATH OF HIS CORRESPONDENT.
[]A LETTER, &c.

[]
‘— Dictis maerentia Pectora mulcet. VIRG.
— Nec te tua plurima PANTHEU,
Labentem Pietas, nec Apollinis Infula texit.
VIRG.
DEAR SIR,

I DURST not intrude on your private Sorrows too ſoon; we water not FLOWERS whilſt they are ſcorching with the Heat of the NOONTIDE SUN; and 'tis as fit the PASSIONS of the MIND ſhould have Leiſure to cool and remit ere they be dealt with. By this Time your Eye may be clear'd of the Brine and Miſt that hung upon it; and ſince you have been pleas'd to [234]regard my Friendſhip on other Occaſions, let it have Leave to drop ſome Balm upon this Wound. 'Tis an Advantage to the careful SURGEO, that his PATIENT has a good Heart; and this gives me Hope and Confidence that the manly Fortitude of your own Breaſt will help to finiſh the Cure I go about. I know, Sir, what a ROMAN EMPEROR ſaid to the TROJAN AMBASSADOR that came ſomewhat too late to mourn with him for his Son's Death,— ‘And I, ſays TIBERIUS, condole with you for the Loſs of your renown'd Countryman HECTOR.’—But your known and confirm'd Goodneſs will not permit an Office of Humanity to be thus ſcorn'd; if it keep not Time, it may teſtify Reſpect. Our cheering Addreſſes to mourning Friends, ſays a GREEK POET, are wont to be as welcome as Calms to a toſſed Mariner. Even the Son of GOD himſelf, when his Trial and Agony fell upon him, was glad of a ſtrengthening Angel.

TEARS are as juſt a Debt to the Death of our Friends, as their Death is to Nature. JUPITER, [235]in HOMER, bemoans the Death of his SARPEDON; and APOLLO mourns the Loſs of his HYACINTHUS. DAVID weeps for ABNER, whom JOAB ſlew, as he took him aſide to ſpeak with him quietly. * And DAVID ſaid to JOAB, and to all the People that were with him, Rend your Cloaths, and gird you with Sackcloth, and mourn before ABNER. And King DAVID himſelf followed the Bier.—And they buried ABNER in HEBRON: and the King lift up his Voice, and wept at the Grave of ABNER; and all the People wept.—And the King lamented over ABNER, and ſaid, Died ABNER as a FOOL dieth?—Thy Hands were not bound, nor thy Feet put into Fetters: as a Man falleth before wicked Men, ſo felleſt thou. And all the People wept again over him.’—When JONATHAN, the Beauty of ISRAEL, was ſlain, DAVID'S Sorrow was alſo inexpreſſible. I am diſtreſſed for thee, (ſays he) my Brother JONATHAN: very pleaſant [236]has thou been unto me: thy Love to me was wonderful, paſſing the Love of WOMEN.’

Lo the brave DITHRAMBUS weeps for his dying Friend§ ARISTANDER.

—Amid the Rage
Of War and Conqueſt a ſwift-guſhing Tear
Finds one ſad Moment's Interval to fall
On his pale Friend.
GLOV. LEONIDAS, L. 4.

[237]THE beauteous ARIANA could mourn the Lot of Nature doom'd to Care and Pain. And the great LEONIDAS did not forbid his Eyes to ſtream before his Grief-diſtracted Family.

—Down the Hero's Cheek,
Down flows the manly Sorrow. Great in Woe
Amid his Children, who incloſe him round,
He ſtands indulging Tenderneſs and Love
In graceful Tears; when thus with lifted Eyes
Addreſs'd to Heav'n: Thou ever-living Pow'r,
Look down propitious, Sire of Gods and Men!
And to this faithful Woman, whoſe Deſert
May claim thy Favour, grant the Hours of Peace.
[238]"And thou, my great Forefather, Son of JOVE,
O HERCULES, neglect not theſe thy Race!
But ſince that Spirit, I from thee derive,
Now bears me from them to reſiſtleſs Fate,
Do thou ſupport their Virtue! be they taught,
Like thee, with glorious Labour Life to grace,
And from their Father let them learn to die!
GLOV. LEONIDAS, L. 1.

THE faithful Woman here mentioned is the Royal Partner of his Bed, whoſe Heart o'erflow'd with the fondeſt Paſſion, and was plung'd in Sorrows.

Amid her weeping Children ſat the Queen,
Immovable and mute; her ſwimming Eyes
Fix'd on the Earth. Her Arms were folded o'er
Her lab'ring Boſom blotted with her Tears.
As, when a duſky Miſt involves the Sky,
The Moon through all the dreary Vapours ſpreads
The radiant Veſture of its Silver Light
[239]"O'er the dull Face of Nature; ſo her Charms
Divinely graceful ſhone upon her Grief,
Bright'ning the Cloud of Woe.
GLOV. LEONIDAS, L. 1.

'TIS the Part of a Man to melt in ſuch Caſes, of a Brute not to be mov'd at all, of a Chriſtian to be moderate in his Regret. Methinks, SIR, the Experience you have had of the World, and human Chances, ſhould ſteel you enough againſt the like Strokes. How many Funeral-Matches had your Eyes ſeen, ere Death knock'd at your Friend's Door? But he might (you will ſay) have liv'd longer. True! ſo he might have dy'd ſooner. What Reaſon have we to think that too haſtily taken away, which was payable as ſoon as we receiv'd it? If his Mortality diſpleas'd you, you ſhould have mourn'd when it began, not when it ends. Why do we grieve for a Wound which no Grief can relieve or remedy? Why bear we not that in another which we muſt come to ourſelves? 'Tis for none but our MAKER to be eternal. Lie we not all under an unchangeable [240]Law, under an eternal Ordinance, to be born and die?

THE SNOW and ICE of WINTER may lie crowded together a While, and hold out for a Month or two, but the SPRING will be ſure to melt it all: Should we chance to paſs over our Youth and Virility ſafe, yet OLD AGE will conſume us at laſt.

WE come into this World as CHILDREN are ſent to SCHOOL, not to live there alway, but to learn ſomewhat, and then be gone. We ſcramble up from lower to higher Forms, from our Childhood to an Age of Conſtancy and Gravity; but we muſt be gone when we have learn'd enough to fit and prepare us for Heaven; and the ſooner we grow fit, the ſooner we are taken away. Virtue protects not the Body, but glorifies the Soul. As Flowers of the faireſt Hue, and Glaſſes of the fineſt Mould, wither and break ſooneſt: So we commonly ſee them that excell in Virtue to be ſhorteſt liv'd, when the ungodly and diſſolute [241]are in no Peril of Death, but are fat and frolickſome, luſty and ſtrong. When the MOWER or REAPER cometh, Weeds and Flowers, Corn and Cockle, high and low Spires, ripe and unripe Ears, are cut down alike: So deals the SICKLE of DEATH with us, of what Age, of what Rank ſoever, it makes bold to pare us away. The GREAT LORDS of the Earth, after all their painted Glory, and ſtern ruffling, are brought down to the Ghaſtlineſs and Duſt of Death: Nay, mighty States and Kingdoms expire, thoſe awful Monarchies that ſpread ſo far, are ſhrunk to nothing: Heaven and Earth look for a Day of Diſſolution.

WHEN all are rated for POLL-MONEY, what Pride, what Partiality, nay, what Folly were it to grumble, and ſeek Exemption? Death is a Tribute which all pay; why then ſhould we grieve and whine when we are called upon for it? Why ſhould we think to ſlip the COLLAR alone? The only Salve for a Neceſſity is a willing Compliance with it. What ſhould we do but give up a [242]Game of our own Accord which is ſo ſure to be loſt?

AND as it avails not to quarrel with a Law of Neceſſity, ſo it becomes us not to to quarrel with the Will of GOD. ‘We muſt, ſays a RABBIN, be as bold as LEOPARDS, as ſwift as EAGLES, as nimble as HARTS, and as valiant as LYONS, to do the Will of our Father which is in Heaven.’ And is it not HE that kills and maketh alive, that brings us down to the Grave, and that raiſes us up? Shall Sun, and Moon, and Stars, and Elements ſubmit to that high CREATOR, and ſhall Man alone, who owes him moſt Service, ſpurn at his Decrees? As that CENTURION in Sacred Writ could ſay of his Domeſticks, ‘If he call'd a Servant, he came preſently, if he ſent him forth, he went;’ ſo ſhould we behave ourſelves to our heavenly Maſter. If he keeps us here below in our Pilgrimage, we muſt be content to trudge ſtill; if he calls us away to himſelf, we muſt be ready to go. What fearful Judgments were pronounced on ELI and all his Houſe, yet [243]he puts them up with this mild Acknowledgment, ‘It is the LORD, let him do what ſeemeth him good; what ſhould a Servant do but fulfill his Lord's Pleaſure?’ Nay, 'tis not only a Lord, but a FATHER that determineth of us. Even Children are many Times handled more ſeverely of their loving Parents than they would be; 'tis for their Good, tho' they diſcern it not. The Courſe which our heavenly Father takes with us is no leſs beneficial, however it may gripe and ſtartle our ſenſual Part. Had a STONE or a STAFF hit us, we would look angrily about, and prepare to revenge ourſelves on the Aſſaulter; but ſhould we find the Blow given us by a Friend, or by a great Man we depended upon, and that it was rather given in Love and Familiarity, than Spleen or Grudge, we would be calm immediately, and excuſe our Choler, and count it a Courteſy, not a Wrong: So when temporal Croſſes annoy us, the Death of our dear Aſſociates, the Loſs of our Goods, the Blemiſhes of our good Name, in all this would we call to Mind that 'tis but a Friend's Blow, but the fatherly Stroke of a merciful GOD, [244]how ſoon would it reſtrain us from repining, how ſoon bring us into the PSALMIST'S Tune,— ‘O GOD, thy Rod and thy Staff are ſo far from bruiſing and vexing mine Heart, that they bring me Comfort; 'tis a Sign of thy Favour and Familiarity that I am thus touch'd!’

THE Savage INDIANS that were demanded by our late Diſcoverers what they mean't in worſhipping the SUN, had this Reaſon at Hand,— "Becauſe it brought DEATH upon them." They thought it a Device and Ordinance that could ſuit with none but the Power and Goodneſs of a Deity.

YOU, Sir, are depriv'd of one that was deſervedly dear to you, but let GOD be dearer, whoſe high Pleaſure it was to take him from this World to himſelf. What hath HE taken but what HE once gave you? Why ſhould HE not receive for ever what HE lent you but for a Time? Ah, how fond are we of our own Vexation! Like ulcerous Limbs, how do we ſhrink at every Touch! Many Comforts cannot erect us ſo much as one [245]Grief is able to caſt us down. We are greedy of that which we want, and as unthankful for that which we have. Something is gone we once had, and we afflict ourſelves for it when there were more Reaſon it ſhould quiet than heighten our Grief that we once had it. For that we had it was a Benefit for which we are owing to GOD, and it would beſt become us to think of paying our Debt to our bountiful LORD. Lo! he aſketh nothing but our PATIENCE, but our PEACE; Peace with ourſelves, and Peace with HIM. There is more left us than we have loſt, and why will we loſe whatſoever we have, becauſe we have not a Thing that we have loſt? For that which we have left is wilfully loſt while we take no Joy in it. What Injury do we to our own Happineſs if we place it in Things which we want? Never ſhall we want Matter of Dejection if we go to Work thus. Every MISER'S Coffer, and every MERCHANT'S Ship, every full Table, and every well-furniſh'd Houſe we come ſhort of, will bring us in a plentiful Harveſt of Perplexity. But I beſeech you, SIR, to turn your Eyes rather on that which GOD [246]hath done for you, to bethink yourſelf how many Comforts are left you to ſeaſon this particular Loſs. How can you think him dead who in the bright Echo of his Reputation is ſtill remaining with you. LAELIUS could cheer himſelf that his SCIPIO was to him alive ſtill,—alive in his glorious Virtues, alive in his renowned Name! 'Twas not the INNOCENT'S Death DAVID bemoan'd, but the REBEL'S. When SOCRATES ſaw his WIFE ſtorming that ſuch a good Man ſhould die unjuſtly, what, ſays he, Would'ſt thou rather have me die a Malefactor?

IF, SIR, you find your Heart bleed with ſuch a Meditation,—"Ah, what a Friend hath GOD "taken from me!" Let a ſweeter one heal it again, — "What a Friend had I given me!" Whenever you look upon the Greatneſs of your Loſs, it muſt bring to your Mind the Greatneſs of your Debt, and GOD'S great Kindneſs in beſtowing ſuch a Friend upon you. How unthankful is he, who ſo remembereth the Loſs of a Benefit, that he forgets the Receit. Shall we receive Good at [247]GOD'S Hand, and not Evil too? Were it not far better we ſhould ſubmit ourſelves to the Will of GOD, than the Will of GOD ſhould be ſquar'd to ours? Do we fondly preſume that we know what is better for us, or wiſh ourſelves better than GOD doth? How oft have we delighted in hurtful and perilous Things? How oft have our vain Longings brought Miſchief upon us? On the other Side, what gracious Tokens of his Good-will hath GOD ſhewn us? When HE took our Fleſh and liv'd among us, and died for us, was not his Good-will towards Men proclaim'd aloud? And is not his Will the ſame in laying the Croſs on us, as in bearing it for us? Had HE not the ſame tender Love and gracious Aim in both of doing us good? If we reckon it for our Good that GOD would ſuffer ſo much for us, we may believe it for our Good too, that HE would have ourſelves ſuffer a little. All HIS Attributes are vaſt and infinite, HIS Power, Wiſdom, and Love; nor is He thus alone in HIMSELF, but this to us; HE loves us better than we love ourſelves, — infinitely better! And HE ſeeks our Good more, and is more able [248]and ſkilful to effect it,—infinitely more! What therefore comes in our Heads when we bemoan our Miſhaps? Do we think GOD deceiv'd, or ſpiteful? Do we think HIS Arm ſhorten'd that HE cannot prevent an Evil? Far be ſuch Thoughts from a Chriſtian's Heart. It comes not from any Weakneſs, Malice, or Imprudence in HIM that we are vex'd thus, but from HIS infinite Power, Wiſdom, and Goodneſs; and who are we that, like the old GIANTS, we ſhould fight with Heaven, and attempt to pull GOD from his Throne, and wring his Sceptre out of his Hand?— Oh, let us give HIM Leave who made us for his Glory, to rule us at his Will! To that Glory HE will aſſuredly bring us, if we be guided by his Will and Counſel in the Way to it. A Paſſenger at SEA takes not upon him to ſteer and order the SHIP that wafts him, but leaves that to the Pilot and Maſter, and in a Storm obeys his Direction moſt, and ſtirs not a Foot againſt his Will, but caſts out the deareſt Things that he has at his Bidding. What think you, (my Friend!) hath GOD leſs Skill to govern the WORLD, than the SHIPMAN [249]his Bark? That which we would do for a Man who is to land us on Earth, ſhall we not do for a GOD who would bring us to Heaven? Our Croſſes are ſent us either by an angry GOD or a favouring one; if they are ſent in Favour, why do we ſpurn at a Benefit? If in Diſpleaſure, what ſhould we do but appeaſe it with an humble Submiſſion? GOD'S Anger will be the ſooner appeas'd, if we can meet his chaſt'ning Hand not only with Silence and Sufferance, but even with Conſent, and Joy, and Thankſgiving. The old GERMANS well underſtood this, who taught their Children, when their Fingers were cut or ſcorch'd, to cry, "GOD be thanked." What heard we from our diſtreſſed LORD in the Garden of GETHSEMANI? "Not my Will, O Father, but thine "be done!" And ſhould not this affect us as much as the rueful Spectacle did that HEBREW Hoſt, which were beſieging the MOABITES? They no ſooner ſaw the King's Son offer'd up for a Sacrifice, but they departed, amaz'd and vex'd. When the Son of GOD himſelf becometh a Burntoffering, and ſacrificeth his Will to the Will of [250]his Father, ſhall it not work as fierce an Indignation within us againſt our own Stubbornneſs? We ſolace ourſelves in all our Extremities to ſee other Men ſuffering with us; and ſhould we not think it a more abundant Comfort to ſee our bleſſed LORD a Sharer with us in Sorrow and Sufferance? Shall we leave HIM to climb up to his CROSS alone, and ſhall we ſuffer nothing at all with him, but run away from the very Shadow of a threatening Affliction, of a ſeeming Diſtreſs?

WHY, SIR, ſhould we grieve immoderately to ſee our Friends going from hence, who have the ANGELS to convey their Souls, and to gather up their Bodies at the laſt Day; nay, CHRIST himſelf bearing them Company in all their Way? Why went he down to the Grave with us, but to ſave us from the Danger and Horror of it? If 'tis an unpleaſant Thing to follow the SON of GOD, yet in any caſe let us not fly from him. If we dare not imitate, how dare we reſiſt him? When we might be like him, why do we thus abhor his Reſemblance? Oh, wretched Ingratitude! GOD [251]ſtampeth upon us the Image of his beloved Son; and we that will not be like CHRIST in Sufference, become like LUCIFER in Pride; nay, methinks, we become worſe, for LUCIFER thought not himſelf better than his GOD. And we, as if we were faultleſs, refuſe the Stripes which our innocent JESUS bore.

HOWEVER we find ourſelves ſtated, indeed, it becomes us to bear our Croſſes contentedly. For if we ſee a deep Stain of Guilt within us, wer't not an high Inſolence to be loth to ſuffer juſtly when CHRIST had thoſe bitter Storms of Sorrow upon him who never did amiſs? On the other Side, if we find no Indictments in our own Hearts, nothing to implead or accuſe us, we are the more encouraged to be like him, who was crucify'd, without a Cauſe. If our own Guilt brought not our Affliction upon us, let not Impatience bring any Guilt on our Affliction?

SHOULD we have met our SAVIOUR, as that CIRENIAN did, fainting under his CROSS, and [252]deſiring us to carry it a while for him, nay, ſhould he have laid that precious Burthen upon our Shoulders with his own Hands, would we churliſhly have put it from us, would we have pleaded Excuſe or Impatience, would we not have carried it away in Joy and Triumph, and have thought ourſelves happy to have been crucify'd on the ſame Tree with the SON of GOD? Lo! this very Honour we may come to, without going to Mount CALVARY for it. GOD puts our Strength to a Trial, with his own Hand impoſeth this or that particular Croſs on us, a Croſs far lighter than that our LORD bore; why do we refuſe and abhor it?

THE SON of GOD was wounded and pierced for me by the bloody Hands of ungodly Ruffians; why ſhould not I ſuffer a gracious GOD to touch me, why ſhould I not be ſtruck by ſo good and gentle a Hand?

WHEN the Diſciples were toſſed at SEA, and felt a new Tempeſt within themſelves, to ſee a [253]Man walking on the liquid Waves, on Word from their MASTER'S Mouth quells them all,— "Be of good Comfort, it is I!" — It is I have called this Storm upon you, it is I can appeaſe it; it is I have taken away the Serenity of the Heavens, it is I can reſtore it again.—If HE makes us ſore, ſays JOB, he can bind us up; if he wounds us, his Hands can make us whole. Let us therefore wait on him for a SALVE from whom our SORES come.

'TIS true, SIR, you have loſt an excellent Friend. — But what, is the Almighty Hand of your heavenly Father any whit ſhorten'd? Hath HE lock'd up all his Care of you in this URN? No! caſt your Care upon him, for he careth for you. You never ſaw the Righteous forſaken; of Men oft enough, but never, never of GOD.

BUT you are not, I hope, ſo fix'd on the Meditation of your own Loſs, but you remember alſo, that to him, to die, was Gain. Yes, it was inexpreſſible Felicity to be taken away from a [254]World in which we are immerg'd in Labour and Sorrow. For what is the Life we doat on but a Stage of Folly, but a Sea of Mifery, which how ſmoothly ſoever we ſail over, yet many a Rock, many a Gulph will croſs our Way, many a Storm will toſs us, and many a Rover fright us, ere we unlade our Bottom in the wiſh'd-for Haven? That very Period of Life which we long for, which we are ſo glad to arrive at, our OLD AGE, what is it elſe but a loathſome Priſon? Even now, when we are neareſt to Death, our buried Griefs and Maladies begin to revive; as RIVERS run in a broader Stream, when they are ending their Courſe.

BUT if we look into the Myſteries of our tender Age, we ſhall find, that our young Infants at their Birth begin to weep, in their Sleep ſeem to laugh. He that deplored the Entrance of his Life with Tears, conſecrates the Image of Death with Smiles; as if he foreſaw the Anxieties of the one, and the Sweetneſs of the other.

[255]WISELY therefore did GOD and Nature appoint that Souls, as yet rude and ignorant, ſhould be infus'd into our Bodies, and kept ſenſeleſs in the clos'd Womb, for fear of loathing ſo harſh a Priſon; which ORPHEUS thought was nothing elſe but a Puniſhment laid upon us, like that the old Tyrants uſed when they tied the Dead and Living together; for thus, ſays he, the pure and immortal Soul is ſerv'd, when ſhe is yoked with a rotten, corruptible, and crazy Body. And what divorced Soul, that carries her Intellect with her, would gladly return this foul Way again, to lie pent in a dark and polluted Womb, to be depriv'd ſo many Months of the Light of Heaven, ſo many Years of the Uſe of Reaſon, to run through ſo many ſordid Neceſſities of Nature, ſo many Mockeries of Fortune, to take up again the Madneſs of Infancy, the Terrors of Childhood, the Dangers of Youth, the Cares of Virility, and the Griefs of old Age? I cannot believe any Man hath liv'd ſo happy, as to wiſh his whole Life again repeated.

NONE, I dare ſay, would deſire to recover Life [256]but ſuch as deſerv'd it not, but ſuch as had abus'd it.—Had Death, methinks, no Comforts attending upon it, the very Troubles of Life might be enough to render it ſweet, as WEARINESS gives a Reliſh to REST.

IT made ARTABANUS laugh to ſee XERXES ſo fooliſhly weeping, when from a ſteep Hill he took a View of his numerous Army; he fell into ſuch paſſionate Moans, that ſuch a Multitude, enough to turn the World upſide down, muſt be gone from it ſo ſoon; it griev'd him that they, whom himſelf was precipitating into a preſent Danger of Death, and ſacrificing ſtreight up to the Madneſs of his Ambition, ſhould be all dead within an hundred Years. — O XERXES, there had been more Reaſon for thee to have bemoan'd ſo long a Stay in ſo croſs a World! Hadſt thou diſcern'd as clearly from that high Mount their human Anxieties, as thou didſt their human Bodies, the Advantages of Death would rather have dry'd thy Tears, than the Suddenneſs drawn them out.

[257]'TWERE as eaſy, methinks, to find a moiling Collier with a white and unſully'd Face, as a mortal Man not ſtain'd with ſome Tincture of Grief. Pick out the braveſt Darlings of Fortune, take one of thoſe that had the very Sirname of HAPPY and GREAT, take a SYLLA or an ALEXANDER, or a JULIUS CAESAR, even they that commanded all had their Lives perplex'd, and their Deaths violent. Look on AUGUSTUS, whoſe publick Reign ſeem'd a perpetual Calm, found he not many deep Vexations at Home, the want of natural Iſſue, the Miſcarriage of adopted? What Joy could he take among the Treacheries of Some, the Libels of others; to ſee his neareſt Kinſwoman lewd and looſe, his only Succeſſor hateful and unworthy? What farther Inſtance need I ſeek? You ſee, Dear Sir, even in this Loſs, that which was one of your greateſt Joys, become an Occaſion of your juſt Heavineſs.

SUPPOSE now a Man deep in Debt, for which he was bound to pay yearly a grievous and unreaſonable Uſe, how glad would he be to get out [258]of his Creditor's Lurch, to ſee the main Debt clear'd and the Bond cancell'd! For the Principal being pay'd, the biting Intereſt ceaſes. And is not this the common Condition of the Sons of Men? We have our Bodies from Earth, our Souls immediately from GOD; both theſe are lent us, but we pay a hard Intereſt in the mean Time. The bodily Pangs that preſs us, Hunger and Thirſt, Cold and Heat, Sickneſs and Labour, and all the Variety of corporal Diſtreſſes, what are all theſe but Intereſt-Money to be daily paid till the Principal be reſtor'd, till the Body return to the Earth from whence it came? On the other Side, the Fears and Cares, and Sorrows, and all the troubleſome Paſſions of the Soul, muſt be paid too for the Uſe of it, till the Spirit returns to GOD that gave it. How do we wrong ourſelves if we come not gladly out of ſuch chargeable Debts? When SOCRATES had drunk his laſt Hemlock, he bad them prepare a Sacrifice for AESCULAPIUS, for the Medicinal GOD; he took his Death as a Remedy that would cure all his Griefs.

[259]INFAMY is one of thoſe Evils that ſticks cloſeſt unto us, and yet in Death it begins to loſe its Sting. Who talketh now in a virulent Manner of an O—d? We ſpeak not of the Dead but with a Kind of Reverence. Even they, who, while they liv'd could get nothing but Grudge and Envy, once dead, are prais'd, extoll'd, and wiſh'd for again.

IN the Judgment of the WISE MAN, ‘the Day of our Death is better than the Day of our Birth.’ Better without Queſtion, to the virtuous good Man, who hath all his Tears and Troubles wiped away; and better in ſome Meaſure, for the vicious too; for tho' it ends not his Miſery, yet it puts an End to his Miſdoings. And is it not a Kindneſs to wreſt a Poniard from one that would do nothing but ſtab himſelf, to deny Money to a gaming BORROWER that would do nothing but caſt it way? 'Tis no leſs Courteſy to take away Life from him that abuſes it. We reckon that good which brings us Profit; and is not Death beneficial? we meet not the King with ſuch aw'd [260]and compos'd Thoughts, as we do a dead CORSE. The very Sight of another's Funeral doth us good, it cauſing the Remembrance or Reflection of our own; and therefore the CATAJAN PRIESTS call the People to publick Prayers with a Trumpet made of the Bones of the Dead, and deck their Bodies with Beads and Jewels of the ſame Stuff, and drink commonly out of a Skull.

BUT if from our private Condition we turn our Eyes to the publick Face of the Times we are caſt upon, have we not Cauſe to count the Dead happy? 'Tis one of our greateſt Comforts in publick Calamities to ſee our Friends and dear Aſſociates freed from them, and ſhelter'd in ſome ſafe Retreat. Were we got into ſome hideous Deſart, and environed there with roaring and venomous Beaſts; on one Side a fierce Tyger ready to fly upon us, on the other Lyons or Bears with bent and erected Paws gaping for us; here a Cluſter of Serpents ſpitting their Fire and Venom, there a Troop of Savages brandiſhing their Clubs, or preparing their Arrows to lay us dead; what [261]would we give to be gone from ſuch ill Neighbours? Why, are we not here in a woeful a Plight? Within, outrageous Paſſions encompaſs us about, and tear our Hearts with reſtleſs Deſires; abroad Misfortune and Miſery, and the proud Man's Contumely wound us daily. Religion, pure and undefiled Religion, as practiſed in the primitive Ages of the Church, is it not grown a very Jeſt, and become the Scorn of Idiots? Nay, do wiſe Heads ſhew a better Example? Do they accuſtom themſelves to entertain their Friends and Acquaintance with Diſcourſe about another World? Do they mingle the Praiſes of GOD with the Feaſts and Joys of Life? Do they retire to their Country Dwellings, to contemplate the Variety and Riches of Divine Wiſdom and Bounty in thoſe natural Scenes of Pleaſure which the Country affords, and do they now and then invite their Companions to join with them in offering Hallelujahs to GOD on this Account? No; ſacred Themes are not now the Buſineſs of Converſation, nor are common Friendſhips any way uſeful or ſerviceable to the great End of Life. Riot and Luxury, or [262]ſordid Profit and Intereſt, or elſe Folly, Trifling and Impertinence, are the Ties, the Bonds of modern Confederacies, the Ligaments of Chriſtian, nay, of Proteſtant Societies. The Oracles of God, or Things ſerious, are ſuch unfaſhionable Topicks of Diſcourſe, ſuch unuſual, nay I may add, unwelcome Subjects of Entertainment every where, that the Company deſerves now to be praiſed, which is only barren and unprofitable, not hurtful, and wherein we ſuffer no greater Loſs than that of our Time.

‘I WISH, ſays Dr LUCAS, in his excellent Eſſay upon Happineſs, that whatever Men talk of a Treaſure in another World, they do not now and then think it wiſeſt to have their Portion in this. How many are there, who making a Profeſſion of living by Faith, and looking for the bleſſed Hope and Appearance of CHRIST, do yet live as if all the Buſineſs of Life were to get and enjoy as much of this World as they can; who profeſſing themſelves the Diſciples of the Son of GOD, whoſe Heart [263]was lowly, his Fortune mean, and his Appearance humble, do yet lay out their Time, their Labour, their Wealth on this one Deſign, to make ſuch a Shew, ſuch a Figure in the World, as may render them the Gaze, the Envy of the Neighbourhood they live in.— Such a tender Concern for, ſuch an eager Purſuit after temporal Things, cannot flow from, nay, nor conſiſt with Purity of Heart, and Poverty of Spirit, the Love of GOD, and a Deſire of Heaven.’

WHAT an excellent Thing muſt we think that to be which frees us from ſuch a degenerate World, which even rectifies the crooked Partialities of Fortune, and makes us as good as thoſe that trode upon us? We are not therefore to reckon it as an Injury of Fortune, but as a Degree of Grace and Favour unto us, that our Courſe is finiſh'd a little ſooner than we were aware of. For 'tis as if a TRAVELLER in a rainy wintry Day ſhould get ſafe and well to his Journey's End or his Inn ere [264]Sun-ſet, which others cannot attain till the dark Night hath overtaken them.

IN a cold ſevere WINTER we think long till it be paſs'd over, till the warm SPRING and SUMMER arrive; and why ſhould not we be as glad to have the Hardſhips of this Life exchang'd for the Joys of a better?

WERE a Man neceſſarily to croſs a deep and dangerous RIVER, what Madneſs were it in him to grieve or complain that he had met with a BRIDGE or a BOAT to waft him over? They are, methinks, as fooliſh who quarrel with Death; for what is it elſe but a Bridge or Boat to waft us to the oppoſite Shore, o'er a Flood we muſt needs paſs, from a brittle and frail Life to a glorious and immortal one.

WE are not to judge of Death by that which it carries us from, but by that which it brings us to. To get a Kingdom or poorer Territory we venture our Lives; and what is a Spot of Earth to the [265]Kingdom of Heaven? What can we reckon Death but our gainfulleſt Hour, that adds ſo much to our Felicity as it takes from our Life. The ſooner we die, the longer we are happy.

SEE you not how the poor KINE, that are turn'd out in Winter, will be clinging to the STABLE or BARN-DOOR where they know there is better Food. The World ſtarves and pines us, and why run we from Death's Door, where Fulneſs of Joy lies ready for us? Why mourn we hopeleſsly for a mouldering Body, which is in ſo ſure a Hope of a Reſurrection?

WE ſee that thoſe Men, who are any thing ſkill'd in the Nature and Motion of heavenly Bodies, are not amaz'd or troubled at the yearly ECLIPSES of the SUN and MOON, becauſe they know all theſe obſcur'd Planets will quickly recover their Light, and ſhine out as clearly as ever they did. And we, why ſhould we ſhrink or ſhudder to ſee the Eyes of our Friends clos'd up in Darkneſs, who know theſe ſullen Eclipſes are to laſt but a While, that, after a little Interpoſition [266]of Duſt, theſe hid and obſcure Bodies ſhall ſhine out as the STARS in Heaven.

WHEN that huge PERSIAN Army we read of in Story was ſetting forward to invade GREECE, MILTIADES, the ATHENIAN General, calling his thin Troops together, preſented them with a Cock-ſight, imagining that would put Courage into them; and the Device took as he wiſh'd, for they (ſeeing ſuch an invincible Stoutneſs and eager Combat in a Couple of Birds, that they would never yield till both lay dead on the Ground) ſnatch'd up their Weapons, and march'd on deſpiſing Danger and Death. WE CHRISTIANS have not Birds and Beaſts, but reaſonable Men to give us an Example of Fortitude in bearing the Loſs of our Friends,—our Relatives,—our other ſelves. We ſee DAVID wiping his Eyes when his Child was dead; we ſee JOB breathing out the Praiſes of GOD when a violent Wind had blown all his Sons and Daughters away; we ſee that brave DAME in the Book of MACCABEES hearing the Cries of her murder'd Sons with as much Delight as a muſical Song. Nay, PAGANISM is able to [267]ſhew us a TIBERIUS, a PAULUS, a MARTIUS, a CATO, a GALLIENUS at ROME, a PERICLES, a XENOPHON, an ANAXAGORAS in other Places, ſo manfully bearing the Death of their domeſtick Friends and Children, that they have gone preſently about their Buſineſs, ſat in the Senate-Houſe, and kept their Garlands upon their Heads, and told the World they knew they were mortal Men they had begotten. And we that know more, ſhall we bear leſs? Will not theſe Heathens be eternal Monuments of our Shame if we lie groveling in Sorrow, and raiſe not up our dejected Hearts?

THE ſweet and long Acquaintance you had, Dear Sir, with him whoſe Loſs you lament, the upright and innocent Courſe of his Life, as it gives you the more Hope of his preſent Happineſs, ſo it gives you the leſs Reaſon to bewail his Diſſolution. His Life was not a mere Calm, but a gentle Breeze; it did not conſiſt in mere Reſt and Quiet, but a delightful Motion. Even in his Retirement he could employ all the Vigour of his Mind uſefully [268]and delightfully; nay, that very Solitude which would have been the Priſon and [...] [...]aniſhment of the buſy Worldling, wa [...] [...]is [...]aradiſe. Moſt undoubtedly, if a righteous and unblemiſh'd Life, if a ſure Faith in his precious Redeemer, if the Fear of GOD, and a fruitful Uſe of his Ordinances, could bring him to Heaven, he is become an abiding Citizen of that NEW JERUSALEM. —O! if he had but Liberty to whiſper a few Words into your Ear, would he not thus expoſtulate? ‘My dear Friend! What do you bewail? My Departure from you? Why, look where I am, in whoſe ſoft Boſom I lie, how glorious, how ſecure I am become! Is it your own Miſhap that afflicts you? It will be but for a Moment, I am but gone before, and you ſhortly will follow me, and all thoſe I left with you.’ —Numbers of our Friends, ſaith St CYPRIAN expect us above; let us therefore, Dear Sir, g [...]ſp and long for an happy Meeting, that we may be join'd in Glory with thoſe, with whom we are join'd in Affection.

I am, &c.
FINIS.
Notes
§
An eminent Tutor at QUEEN's College, OXON.
A Tutor at St JOHN's College, CAMBRIDGE.
*
AMID the Van of PERSIA was a Youth,
Nam'd TERIBAZUS, not for golden Stores,
Not for wide Paſtures travers'd o'er with Herds,
With bleating Thouſands, or with bounding Steeds,
Nor yet for Pow'r, nor ſplendid Honour fam'd.
Rich was his Mind in ev'ry Art divine,
And through the Paths of Science had he walk'd
The Votary of Wiſdom. In the Years,
When tender Down inveſts the ruddy Cheek,
He with the MAGI turn'd the hallow'd Page
Of ZOROASTRES; then his tow'ring Soul
High on the Plumes of Contemplation ſoar'd,
And from the lofty BABYLONIAN Fane
With learn'd CHALDEANS trac'd the myſtick Sphere;
There number'd o'er the vivid Fires, that gleam
Upon the duſky Boſom of the Night.
Nor on the Sands of GANGES were unheard
The INDIAN Sages, from ſequeſter'd Bow'rs
While, as Attention wonder'd, they diſclos'd
The Pow'rs of Nature; whether in the Woods,
The fruitful Glebe, or Flow'r, or healing Plant,
The limpid Waters, or the ambient Air,
Or in the purer Element of Fire.
The fertile Plains, where great SESOSTRIS reign'd,
Myſterious EGYPT next the Youth ſurvey'd,
From ELEPHANTIS, where impetuous NILE
Precipitates his Waters, to the Sea,
Which far below receives the ſev'nfold Stream.
Thence o'er th' IONICK Coaſt he ſtray'd, nor paſs'd
MILETUS by, which once enraptur'd heard
The Tongue of THALES, nor PRIENE's Walls
Where Wiſdom dwelt with BIAS, nor the Seat
Of PITTACUS along the LESBIAN Shore.
Here two melodious Numbers charm'd his Ear,
Which flow'd from ORPHEUS and MUSAEUS old,
And thee, O Father of immortal Verſe,
MAEONIDES! whoſe Strains through ev'ry Age
Time with his own eternal Lip ſhall ſing.—
Back to his native SUSA then he turn'd
His wand'ring Steps."—
Vide Mr GLOVER''s LEONIDAS, L. 5.
*
2 Tim. ii. 15.
Rom. xvi. 10.
§
2 Cor. x. 18.
*
Pſal. cxxxi.
§
Phil. ii.
*
JUVENIS ROMANUS Admiratione in ſe Cives Hoſteſque convertit. Sacrificium erat Statum in Quirinali Colle Genti Fabiae: ad id faciendum C. FABIUS DORSO, Gibino Cinctu, ſacra Manibus gerens, quum de Capitolio deſcendiſſet, per medias Hoſtium Stationes egreſſus, nibil ad Vocem cujuſquam Terroremve motus, in Quirinalem Collem pervenit. Ibique, omnibus ſolennibus peractis, eadem revertens ſimiliter conſtanti Vultu Graduque, ſatis ſperans propitios eſſe Deos, quorum Cultum ne Mortis quidem Metu prohibitus deſeruiſſet, in Capitolium ad ſuis rediit, ſeu attonitis Gallis Miraculo Audaciae, ſeu Religione etiam motis, cujus haud quaquam negligens eſt Gens. LIV. HIST. VOL. 1.

A young ROMAN drew upon himſelf the Admiration both of his Fellow-Citizens and Enemies. A Sacrifice peculiar to the FABIAN Family, had been fix'd in the QUIRINAL HILL, and could be perform'd no where elſe. Therefore C. FABIUS DORSO came down from the Capitol to perform the ſame, and in his ſacrificing Dreſs, and all the Apparatus for that Ceremony in his Hands, paſs'd thro' the Enemies Quards, and without being mov'd at what they did or ſaid, arriv'd on the QUIRINAL HILL. Having duly perform'd this Sacrifice in that Place, and returning with the ſame ſteady Countenance and Pace, he re-enter'd the Capitol, in full Confidence that thoſe GODS, whoſe Worſhip even the Fears of Death could not force him to abandon, would be propitious to him. The GAULS were either aſtoniſhed at his ſurprizing Boldneſs, or mov'd by a Senſe of Religion, which that People do by no Means neglect.

Spes unica Imperii Populi Romani L. QUINTIUS CINCINNATUS trans Tiberim quatuor Jugurum colebat Agrum, quae PRATA QUINTIA vocantur. Ibi ab Legatis, ſeu Foſſam fodiens Palae innexus, ſeu quum araret, Operi certe, id quod conſtat, agreſti intentus erat.

L. QUINTIUS CINCINNATUS, the ſole Prop of the Roman State, cultivated with his own Hand four Acres of Land, lying on the other Side of the TIBER, which are called the QUINTIAN MEADOWS; there was this great Man found by the Senate's Deputies, either digging a Ditch with a Spade, or at leaſt this is certain, that he was buſily employ'd about his Farm.

Liv. Hiſt. vol. 1. l. 3.

Vide Liv. Hiſt. vol. 1. lib. 2.
§
Vide Frenſhem. Suppl. Liv. Hiſt. l. 12. cap. 21.
Vide Liv. Hiſt. vol. 1. l. 2.
11
MANLIUS CURIUS nihil ex opulentiſſima Victoria, &c. MANLIUS CURIUS, without reaping any other Advantage from a prodigious great Conqueſt, but a good Conſcience and a fair Character, continued in his former Poverty and laborious Way of Life, the ſame Man being both the Pattern and ſtrict Guardian of publick Moderation. When the Senate would have aſſign'd him a conſiderable Share of Land, he was content with the ſame Quantity which he had given others, which was but four Acres; often uſing this Expreſsion, ‘That he was a bad Citizen who could not be contented with what ſatisfied others.’ Here he built a Country-Houſe which he called after his Name; and when the SABINES, whom he had conquer'd a little before, happen'd to come, and finding him roaſting TURNIPS in it, offer'd him a large Sum of Gold, which they had brought him as a Preſent, he ſaid, ‘I had rather eat theſe Turnips out of Earthen Diſhes, and rule over thoſe who are poſſeſſed of that Gold.’ Afterwards the elder CATO had ſome Eſtates in the Neighbourhood of this Houſe, whither he uſed to come frequently, and upon ſeeing this poor little Cottage, and the ſmall Farm which this great Man, after three Triumphs, had cultivated with his own Hands, and at the ſame Time calling to Mind a Life led in the moſt abſtemious Manner, he diſpos'd his Mind to the like Moderation, in Imitation of CURIUS's primitive Simplicity and Virtue.

Frenſhem. Suppl. Liv. Hiſt. l. 14

*
Frenſhem. Suppl. Liv. Hiſt.
*
Frenſhem. Suppl. Liv. Hiſt.
Procop. Hiſt. Bell. Goth. L. 1.
15
Herbam SARDINIA producit vehementis Veneni Apiaſtro per [...]milem, quoe in Cibo ſumpta Mentem adimit, Nerviſque violenter attractis Labia diſtorquet in ridentium Speciem; exitiali Succo, niſt poſt Vomitum Lac aut Aqua mulſa copioſe bibatur: ita vis iſtius Mali proeſens diluitur, ceteris deinde Incommodis ea medeatur, quoe in Convulſionibus Nervorum Uſui ſunt.

SARDINIA produces a ſtrongly poiſonous Herb, very like MINT, which turns People mad when eaten, and ſo violently contracts the Muſcles of their Faces, and ſo diſtorts the Lips, that they look as if they were laughing. The Juice of it proves mortal, unleſs they firſt vomit, and afterwards drink plentifully of Milk or Emulſion. By this Means, for the preſent, the Force of the Poiſon is broke, and afterwards the other ill Eſſects of it are cured by the ſame Remedies which are uſed in Convulſions of the Nerves.

*

Adeo hand ſecus quam venerabundi intuebantur Homines CICERONEM in Foro concionantem, praeter Ornatum Habitumque humano auguſtiorem, Majeſtate etiam, quam Vultus Gravitaſque Oris prae ſe ferebat, ſimillimum DEO Eloquentiae.

Liv. Hiſt. Vol. 1. L. 5.

Men beheld CICERO, at it were with a reverential Awe, haranguing in the FORUM, dreſs'd and adorn'd in a Manner more magnificent than human, nay, perfectly reſembling the GOD of Eloquence in the awful Majeſty and Gravity of his Looks and Countenance.

*
FAR unlike in Manners to the GREEKS
Appear the LYDIANS. Wantonneſs and Sport
Were all their Care. Beſide CAISTER's Stream,
Or ſmooth MEANDER winding ſilent by,
Or near PACTOLUS' Wave among the Vines
Of TMOLUS riſing, or the wealthy Tide
Of golden-ſanded HERMUS they allure
The Sight enchanted with the graceful Dance,
Or with melodious Sweetneſs charm the Ear,
And melt to ſofteſt Languiſhment the Soul.
Mr GLOVER'S LEONIDAS, lib. 3.
—HE was ſkill'd
To tune the lulling FLUTE, and melt the Heart;
Or with his PIPE'S awak'ning Strains invite
The lovely Dames of LYDIA to the Dance:
They graceful o'er the verdant Level mov'd
In varied Meaſures, while the cooling Breeze
Beneath their ſwelling Garments wanton'd o'er
Their ſnowy Breaſts, and ſmooth CAISTER's Wave
Soſt-gliding murmur'd by.
LEONIDAS, lib. 5.
Archbiſhop of YORK.
§
Biſhop of ST ASAPH.
Prebendary of WORCESTER.
*
Gen. l. 15, to 21.
*
2 Cor. viii. 2, 3.
*
Vide OCILVY's Deſcription of ASIA, &c. Fol. Edit. p. 60.
*
Vicar of Farrington, in Hampſhire, &c. and Fellow of the Royal Society.
John v. 39.
§
2 Tim. iii. 15.
*
Vide Longin. Sect. 39.
*
CICERO de Orat. Lib. 1.
*
‘I us'd, ſays CICERO, to tranſlate a Book of PLATO's and ZENOPHON's, by which I acquir'd this Advantage, that in rendering the GREEK I had read over into Latin, I not only fell upon the moſt elegant, and yet the moſt uſual Expreſſions, but was in the Courſe of my Tranſlations led into an Imitation of their Manner, and to introduce ſome new Words into the Language of my Countrymen, which I took Care ſhould be juſt and a-propo'. Vid. CICERO de Orat. Lib. 1.’
Longin. Sect. 13.
§
STESICHORUS was Inventor of the LYRICK CHORUS. He was born, according to SUIDAS, in the 37th OLYMPIAD. ‘If he had kept within due Bounds, ſays QUINCTILIAN, he ſeems to have been able to come the neareſt to a Rivalſhip with HOMER.’

Vid. QUINCTIL. Inſtit.

IT was a common Report in the Age that PLATO lived in, that BEES dropt Honey on his Lips, as he lay in the Cradle. And 'tis ſaid, that the Night before he was placed under the Tuition of SOCRATES, the Philoſopher dreamed he had embraced a young SWAN in his Boſom, who, after his Feathers were full-grown, ſtretch'd out his Wings, and ſoar'd to an immenſe Height in the Air, ſinging all the Time with an inexpreſſible Sweetneſs. This ſhews, at leaſt, what a great Opinion they then entertain'd of his Eloquence, ſince they thought its Appearance worthy to be uſher'd into the World with Omens and Prognoſticks.
*
Vid. LONGIN. Sect. 30.
*
Archbiſhop of York.
*
BY too eager a Purſuit of Elegance, ſays LONGINUS, a Subject becomes dry and inſipid. And thoſe Perſons, continues he, commonly fail in this Particular, who by an ill manag'd Zeal for a neat, correct, and above all, a ſweet Stile, are hurried into a heavy, nauſeous Affectation.

Vid. LONGIN. Sect. 3.

The preſent Biſhop of Oxford.
§
Archdeacon of Carliſle.
*
Dean of Armagh.
*
‘GIVE Ear, O ye HEAVENS (ſays he) and I will ſpeak; and hear, O EARTH, the Word of my Mouth.—My DOCTRINE ſhall drop as the RAIN: My SPEECH ſhall diſtill as the DEW, as the ſmall RAIN upon the tender HERB, and as the SHOWERS upon the GRASS.—Becauſe I will publiſh the Name of the LORD: aſcribe ye GREATNESS unto our GOD.—He is the ROCK, his Rock is perfect: for all his Ways are JUDGMENT: a GOD of Truth, and without Iniquity, juſt and right is he.—They have corrupted themſelves, their Spot is not the Spot of his Children: they are a perverſe and crooked Generation.—Do ye thus requite the LORD, O fooliſh People and unwiſe? Is he not thy FATHER that hath bought thee? Hath he not made thee and eſtabliſhed thee?—Remember the Days of old, conſider the Years of many Generations: Ask thy FATHER, and he will ſhew thee, thy ELDERS, and they will tell thee.—When the MOST HIGH divided to the Nations their Inheritance, when he ſeparated the Sons of ADAM, he ſet the Bounds of the People according to the NUMBER of the Children of ISRAEL.—For the LORD'S Portion is his PEOPLE: JACOB is the Lot of his Inheritance.—He found him in a deſart Land, and in the waſte howling Wilderneſs: he led him about, he inſtructed him, he kept him as the APPLE of his EYE.—As an EAGLE ſtirreth up her NEST, fluttereth over her YOUNG, ſpreadeth abroad her Wings, taketh them, beareth them on her Wings;—ſo the LORD alone did lead him, and there was no ſtrange God with him.—He made him ride on the high Places of the Earth, that he might eat the Increaſe of the Fields; and he made him to ſuck HONEY out of the ROCK, and OIL out of the flinty Rock.—Butter of Kine, and Milk of Sheep, with Fat of Lambs, and Rams of the Breed of BASHAN, and Goats, with the Fat of KIDNEYS of Wheat, and thou didſt drink the pure Blood of the GRAPE, &c.
Vid. LONGIN. on the Sublime, Part 1. Section 9.
BOILEAU undertook the Defence of this Paſſage, and bravely defended it againſt HUET and LE CLERC, who pretended that LONGINUS never ſaw it, tho' he has actually quoted it; and that he never read MOSES, tho' he has done ſo exemplary a Piece of Juſtice to his Merit, and left ſo candid an Acknowledgement of it.

Vid. BOILEAU's Works in four Vols. 4 to, and Mr SMITH's Tranſlation of LONGINUS, where he has a Note upon this Paſſage.

*
‘THEN ſang DEBORAH, and BARAK the Son of ABINOAM, on that Day, ſaying. — Praiſe ye the LORD for the avenging of Iſrael, when the People willingly offer'd themſelves. — Hear, O ye KINGS, give Ear, O ye PRINCES; I, even I, will ſing unto the Lord, I will ſing Praiſe unto the LORD GOD of ISRAEL. — LORD, when thou wenteſt out of Seir, when thou marchedſt out of the Field of EDOM, the Earth trembled, and the Heavens dropped, the Clouds alſo dropped Water. — The Mountains melted from before the LORD, even that SINAI from before the LORD GOD of ISRAEL. — In the Days of SHAMGAR, the Son of ANATH, in the Days of JOEL, the High-ways were unoccupy'd, and the Travellers walked thro' By-ways. — The Inhabitants of the Villages ceaſed, they ceaſed in ISRAEL, until that I, DEBORAH, aroſe, that I aroſe a Mother in ISRAEL. They choſe new Gods; then was War in the Gates: Was there a Shield or Spear ſeen among forty thouſand in ISRAEL? My Heart is toward the Governors of ISRAEL, that offer'd themſelves willingly among the People: Bleſs ye the LORD. — Speak ye that ride on white Aſſes, ye that ſit in Judgment, and walk by the Way. — They that are deliver'd from the Noiſe of Archers in the Places of drawing Water; there ſhall they rehearſe the righteous Acts of the LORD, even the righteous Acts towards the Inhabitants of his Villages in ISRAEL: then ſhall the People of the Lord go down to the Gates. — Awake, awake, DEBORAH: Awake, awake, utter a Song: Ariſe BARUK, and lead thy Captivity Captive, Thou Son of ABINOAM. — Then he made him that remaineth have Dominion over the Nobles among the People: the Lord made me have Dominion over the Mighty. — Out of EPHRAIM was there a Root of them againſt AMALECK; after thee, BENJAMIN, among thy People: out of MACHIR came down Governors, and out of ZEBULUN they that handle the Pen of the Writer. — And the Princes of ISSACAR were with DEBORAH: Even ISSACAR, and alſo BARAK, he was ſent on Foot into the Valley: For the Diviſions of REUBEN there were great Thoughts of Heart. — Why abodeſt thou among the Sheepfolds, to hear the Bleatings of the Flocks? For the Diviſions of REUBEN there were great Searchings of Heart. — GILIAD abode beyond JORDAN: and why did DAN remain in Ships? ASHER continued on the Sea Shore, and abode in his Breaches. — ZEBULUN and NAPHTALI were a People that jeoparded their Lives unto the Death, in the high Places of the Field. — The KINGS came and fought; then fought the KINGS of CAANAN in TAANACH by the Waters of MEGIDO, they took no Gain of Money. — They fought from Heaven, the STARS in their Courſes fought againſt SISERA. — The River of KISHON ſwept them away, that ancient River, the River KISHON: O my SOUL, thou haſt trodden down Strength.—Then were the Horſes Hooſs broken by the Means of the Prancings, the Prancings of their mighty ones. — Curſe ye MEROZ, (ſaid the ANGEL of the Lord) curſe ye bitterly the Inhabitants thereof: Becauſe they came not to the Help of the LORD, to the Help of the LORD againſt the Mighty. — Bleſſed above Women ſhall JAEL, the Wife of HEBER the KENITE be, bleſſed ſhall ſhe be above Women in the Tent. — He aſked Water and ſhe gave him Milk, ſhe brought forth Butter in a lordly Diſh. — She put her Hand to the Nail, and her Right Hand to the Workman's Hammer: And with the Hammer ſhe ſmote SISERA, ſhe ſmote off his Head when ſhe had pierced and ſtricken thro' his Temples.—At her Feet he bow'd, he fell, he lay down: At her Feet he bow'd, he fell; where he bow'd there he fell down dead. — The Mother of SISERA looked out at a Window, and cried thro' the Latteſs, Why is his Chariot ſo long in coming? Why tarry the Wheels of his Chariots? Her wiſe Ladies anſwered her, yea, ſhe return'd Anſwer to herſelf, — Have they not ſped? Have they not divided the Prey, to every Man a Damſel or two? to SISERA a Prey of divers Colours, a Prey of divers Colours of Needle Work, of divers Colours of Needle Work on both Sides, meet for the Necks of them that take the Spoil? — So let all thine Enemies periſh, O LORD: But let them that love him, be as the SUN when he goeth forth in his MIGHT.’
§

THEN anſwered the LORD unto JOB out of the WHIRLWIND, and ſaid — &c.

HAST thou given the Horſe Strength? Haſt thou cloathed his Neck with THUNDER? Canſt thou make him afraid as a Graſhopper? The GLORY of his NOSTRILS is terrible. — He paweth in the Valley, and rejoiceth in his Strength: He goeth on to meet the ARMED MEN. — He mocketh at FEAR, and is not affrighted; neither turneth he back from the SWORD. — The Quiver rattleth againſt him, the glittering SPEAR and the SHIELD.—He ſwalloweth the GROUND with FIERCENESS and RACE: neither believeth he 'tis the Sound of the TRUMPET.—He ſaith among the Trumpets, HA, HA; and he ſmelleth the BATTLE afar off, the THUNDER of the CAPTAINS and the SHOUTING.

THERE is a ſtrong Probability that LONGINUS, ſays his ingenious Tranſlator, was not only acquainted with the Writings of the Old Teſtament, but with thoſe alſo of the New, ſince to a Manuſcript of the latter in the VATICAN Library, there is prefix'd a Paſſage from ſome of this Author's Writings, which is preſerv'd there as an Inſtance of his Judgment. He is drawing up a Liſt of the greateſt Orators, and at the Cloſe he ſays, And further, PAUL of TARSUS, the chief Supporter of an Opinion not yet eſtabliſhed. FABRICIUS, I own, has been ſo officiouſly kind in his BIELIOTHECA GRAECA, L. 4. c. 31. as to attribute theſe Words to Chriſtian Forgery, but for what Reaſon I cannot conjecture. If for any of real Weight and Importance, certainly he ought not to have conceal'd them from the World.

IF LONGINUS ever ſaw any of the Writings of St PAUL, he could not but entertain an high Opinion of him. Such a Judge muſt needs applaud ſo maſterly an Orator. For where is the Writer that can vie with him in ſublime and pathetick Eloquence? DEMOSTHENES could rouſe up the ATHENIANS againſt PHILIP, and CICERO ſtrike Shame and Confuſion into the Breaſts of ANTHONY or CATALINE; and did not the Eloquence of St PAUL, tho' bound in degrading Fetters, make the oppreſſive, the abandon'd FELIX tremble, and almoſt perſuade AGRIPPA, in ſpite of all his Prejudice, to be a Chriſtian? HOMER after his Death was look'd upon as more than human, and Temples were erected to his Honour; and was not St PAUL admir'd as a God even whilſt he was on Earth, when the Inhabitants of LYSTRA would have ſacrificed to him? Let his Writings be examin'd and judg'd by the ſevereſt Teſt of the ſevereſt Criticks, and they cannot be found deficient; nay, they will appear more abundantly ſtock'd with ſublime and pathetick Thoughts, with ſtrong and beautiful Figures, with nervous and elegant Expreſſions, than any other Compoſition in the World.

Vid. Mr SMITH's Preface to his Tranſlat. of LONGIN. p. 23, 24.

*
Dr HERRING.
*
ROMAE, cum multa GRAECIAE Civitates, Queſtum de Injuriis PHILIPPI Regis Macedonum veniſſent, & Diſceptatio in Senatu inter DEMETRIUM Philippi Filium, quem Pater ad ſatisfaciendum Senatui miſerat, & Legatos Civitatum eſſet; Turba Querelarum confuſus Adoleſcens, repenti obticuit. Tune Senatus VERECUNDIA ejus motus, quae probata etiam antea, cum Obſes ROMAE eſſet, omnibus fuerat, CAUSAM illi donavit: Atque ita MODESTIA ſua DEMETRIUS Veniam PATRI, non Jure Defenſionis, ſed Patrocinio PUDORIS obtinuit: quod ipſum Decreto SENATUS ſignificatum eſt, ut appareret, non tam abſolutum Regem, quam donatum FILIO Patrem.

JUST Hiſt. L. 32.

*
LIVY's Hiſt. Vol. 2. L. 9.
*
Flaminium Martiale A. POSTHUMIUS ALVINUS habeba [...], eoque Provinciam ſortiri cupientem L. CAECILIUS METELLUS Pontifex Maximus dicta mulcta prohibuit, negans fas eſſe Flamini a Sacris recedere: cujus Facti poſterioribus quoque Temporibus probata Ratio eſt.

When A. POSTHUMIUS ALVINUS the High Prieſt of MARS, preſented himſelf to draw Lots for the Provinces, L. CAECILIUS METELLUS, the Pontifex Maximus, declared it unlawful for him to be abſent from his ſacred Function, and expreſsly forbad him to leave it under the Pain of ſining him. This became a Precedent among the ROMANS, which was obſerv'd ever after.

Frenſhem. Suppl. Liv. Hiſt. L. 9 c. 54.

*
2 Sam. iii. 31, 32, 33, 34.
2 Sam. i. 26, 27.
§
Him DITHRAMBUS lov'd, a ſacred Bard
Rever'd for Juſtice, for his Verſe renown'd,
Which ſung the Deeds of Heroes, thoſe who fell,
Or thoſe who conquer'd in their Country's Cauſe,
Th' enraptur'd Soul inſpiring with the Thirſt
Of Glory won by Virtue. His high Strain
The Muſes favour'd from their neighb'ring Groves,
And bleſs'd with heav'nly Melody his Lyre.
No more from THESPIA ſhall his Feet aſcend
The ſhady Steep of HELICON. No more
The Streams divine of AGANIPPE'S Fount
His tuneful Lip ſhall moiſten, or his Hands
Preſent their Off'rings in the Muſes Bow'r,
The proſtrate Shield, and unforſaken Lance
Now feebly graſping, never more to ſwell
His lofty Numbers on the ſounding String.
GLOV. LEONIDAS, L. 4.
—Her aſpect far excell'd
Whate'er the Lilly blending with the Roſe
Paints on the Cheek of Beauty ſoon to fade;
Such as expreſs'd a Mind, which Wiſdom rol'd,
And Sweetneſs temper'd, Virtue's pureſt Light
Illumining the Countenance divine,
Yet could not ſoothe remorſeleſs Fate, nor teach
Malignant Fortune to revere the good,
Which oft with Anguiſh rends the ſpotleſs Heart.
GLOV. LEONIDAS, L. 6.
Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License