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; 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 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 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, 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;
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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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, 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 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 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 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 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 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
An eminent Tutor at QUEEN's College, OXON.
FOTHERGILL or a
A Tutor at St JOHN's College, CAMBRIDGE.
RUTHERFORTH.
'TIS remark'd, that by the Help of Imitation, and the Force of Example merely, such a Comeliness
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, 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 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 Spirit of a
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.
TERIBAZUS, would need more than all the Abilities of that noble PERSIAN to convince the worthless Part of the 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 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 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 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.
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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 TIMOTHY;—
2 Tim. ii. 15.
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
Rom. xvi. 10.
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
2 Cor. x. 18.
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 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 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 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 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.
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 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 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 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 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 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 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.
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 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, '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 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, 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 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,
Psal. cxxxi.
LORD, I am not high-minded, 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
Phil. ii.
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 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 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 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 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 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, 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 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 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 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 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,
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.
C. FABIUS DORSO, in the Time of the Siege of the ROMAN Capitol, to the great Astonishment of his 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 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.
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.
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.
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,
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.
L. QUINTIUS CINCINNATUS,
Vide Liv. Hist. vol.
1.
lib.
2.
VALERIUS POPLICOLA,
Vide Frenshem. Suppl. Liv. Hist. l.
12.
cap.
21.
CORUNCANIUS,
Vide Liv. Hist. vol.
1.
l.
2.
MENENIUS AGRIPPA,
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
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.
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 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 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 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 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.
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.
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 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.—
Frenshem. Suppl. Liv. Hist.
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.
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, 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 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, 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. 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
Frenshem. Suppl. Liv. Hist.
FRENSHEMIUS and
Procop. Hist. Bell. Goth. L. 1.
PROCOPIOUS
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.
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 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 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 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, 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 that I fancy, had
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.
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.
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, 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 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, 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 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 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
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.
LYDIANS, we become a Nation of
Bel Esprits,
and the warbling Gullet of a FARANELLI, or the lulling Pipe of a
—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.
LYCIS, shall be more admired than the manly Eloquence of a
Archbishop of YORK.
HUTTON, a
Bishop of ST ASAPH.
DRUMMOND, or a
Prebendary of WORCESTER.
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 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 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 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 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, 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 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 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.
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 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 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
Gen. l. 15, to 21.
.
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 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, 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.
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.
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.
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, 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.
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 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;
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.
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 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 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.
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?
2 Cor. viii. 2, 3.
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 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 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 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 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
Vide
OCILVY's Description of ASIA,
&c.
Fol. Edit. p. 60.
OCILVY in his Description of PERSIA 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 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, 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
Vicar of
Farrington,
in
Hampshire,
&c. and Fellow of the Royal Society.
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 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
John v. 39.
Scriptures. And St PAUL tells TIMOTHY,
2 Tim. iii. 15.
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, 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 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.
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; 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 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 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. 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
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 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 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 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 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.
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.
Vide
Longin. Sect. 39.
Harmonious Composition has not only a natural 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 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
CICERO
de Orat. Lib.
1.
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. 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 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
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.
CICERO the Imitator of ZENOPHON and PLATO? Was not
Longin.
Sect. 13.
HERODOTUS the constant Imitator of HOMER? Did not
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.
STESICHORUS and ARCHILOCHUS imitate him more than HERODOTUS? And did not
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.
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; 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
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 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
Vid.
LONGIN. Sect. 30.
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 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 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 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.
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
Archbishop of
York.
DR SHARP's Sermons, such
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 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 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 much
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.
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
The present Bishop of
Oxford.
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
Archdeacon of
Carlisle.
Mr LAW. Persons 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 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 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 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. 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 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,
A Verse of the Lord LANSDOWN.
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!
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,
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!
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
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.
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?
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.
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!
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.
— she was wond'rous fair!
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.
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.
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!"
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.
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.
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?
"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.
"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.
"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,
"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,
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.
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;
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.
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.
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.
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;
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
Dean of
Armagh.
DANIEL'S Paraphrase of it is extremely beautiful; Part of which runs thus:—
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!
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?
"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.
"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.
"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
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.
MOSES?—How does he accustom us to mount along with him to heroick Grandeur, when 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
Vid.
LONGIN. on the Sublime, Part 1. Section 9.
LONGINUS.
The
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.
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 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
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.
DEBORAH and BARUK.—Can any thing communicate a more exquisite Pleasure to the Ear and the Understanding, than those Descriptions of the DIVINE MAJESTY in
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.
JOB? — Where do we find SORROW flowing in such a 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 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
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.
LONGINUS, 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, 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, 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.
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 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. 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 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 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, 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 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 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 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, 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.
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 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 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.
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 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 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 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, 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.
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
Dr HERRING.
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 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
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.
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 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. 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 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 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 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
LIVY
's Hist. Vol.
2.
L.
9.
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 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 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 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.
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 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. 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 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 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
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.
L. CAECILIUS METELLUS, looked 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 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.
— Dictis maerentia Pectora mulcet.
VIRG.
A LETTER,
&c.
— 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 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, 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.
2 Sam. iii. 31, 32, 33, 34.
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.
2 Sam. i. 26, 27.
I am distressed for thee, (says he) my Brother JONATHAN: very pleasant 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
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.
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.
THE beauteous
—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.
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.
"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
"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 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 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 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 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, 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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.
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 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.
'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 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.
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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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.