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 THE WORKS 
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. 
 
 WITH 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF HIS LIFE, 
 
 SUMMARY OF EACH DISCOURSE, NOTES, &c. 
 
 BY THE REV. T. S. HUGHES, B. D. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY A. J. VALPY, M.A. 
 
 -AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS. 
 
 1830.
 
 TO 
 THE RIGHT REVEREND 
 
 HERBERT 
 LORD BISHOP OF PETERBOROUGH, 
 
 AND 
 
 LADY Margaret's professor of divinity in 
 
 THE university OF CAMBRIDGE, 
 
 THESE VOLUMES, 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 THE SERMONS OF DR. ISAAC BARROW, 
 
 ARE DEDICATED BY THE EDITOR; 
 
 NOT ONLY FROM MOTIVES OF PERSONAL RESPECT AND 
 
 GRATITUDE. 
 
 BUT BECAUSE NO NAME IN THE PRESENT TIMES 
 
 CAN WITH MORE PROPRIETY BE PREFIXED TO THE 
 
 WRITINGS OF SO GREAT A MAN, 
 
 THAN THAT OF A PRELATE WHO FORMS A REMARKABLE 
 
 PARALLEL WITH HIM IN THE COMBINED 
 
 ACQUIREMENTS OF 
 LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND THEOLOGY.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Biographical Memoir of Dr. Isaac Barrow. . . ix 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 I. — The Pleasantness of Religion. 
 
 Proverbs hi. 17. — Her ways are ways of pleasantness, 
 and all her paths are peace. ...... 1 
 
 f[. — The Profitableness of Godliness. 
 
 I Timothy iv. 8. But godliness is profitable for 
 
 all things 22 
 
 III. — The Profitableness of Godliness. 
 
 I Timothy iv. 8. But godliness is profitable for 
 
 all things. 47 
 
 IV. — Tlie Reward of honoring God. 
 
 I Samuel ii. 30. — For them that honor me I will 
 honor. .......... 74
 
 VI CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 V. — Upright walking sure walking. 
 
 Proverbs x. 9. — He that walketh uprightly, walketh 
 surely 10*- 
 
 VI.— Of the duty of Prayer. 
 
 I Thessalonians v. 17. — Pray without ceasing. . 123 
 
 VII.— Of the duty of Prayer. 
 
 I Thessalonians v. 17. — Pray without ceasing. . 140 
 
 VIII. — Of the duty of Thanksgiving. 
 
 Ephesians v. 20. — Giving thanks always for all things 
 unto God 162 
 
 IX. — Of the duty of Thanksgiving. 
 
 Ephesians v. 20. — Giving thanks always for all things 
 unto God 187 
 
 X. — On the King's happy return. 
 
 I Timothy ii. 1. 2. — I exhort therefore, that, first of 
 all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of 
 thanks, be made for all men : for kings, and for all that are 
 in authority 219 
 
 XI. — On the Gunpowder-Treason. 
 
 Psalm lxiv. 9. 10. — And all men shall fear, and shall 
 declare the work of God ; for they shall wisely consider 
 of his doing. The righteous shall be glad in the Lord, 
 and shall trust in him ; and all the upright in heart shall 
 glory. 252 
 
 XII. — A Consecration Sermon. 
 
 Psalm cxxxii. 16. — I will also clothe her priests with 
 salvation. 284
 
 CONTENTS. vn 
 
 PACE 
 
 XIII. — Not to offend in word an evidence of a high pitch of 
 virtue. 
 
 James ili. 2. — If any man oflfend not in word, he is a 
 perfect man 321 
 
 XIV. — Against foolish talking and jesting. 
 
 Ephesians v. 4. Nor foolish talking, nor jesting, 
 
 which are not convenient. ...... 344 
 
 XV. — Against rash and vain swearing. 
 
 James v. 12. — But above all things, my brethren, swear 
 not. 373 
 
 XVI. — Of evil-speaking in general. 
 
 Titus ni. 2. To speak evil of no man. . . 401
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The Publisher begs leave to acquaint his Subscribers, 
 that the future Numbers of this Edition will be enriched 
 with some hitherto unpublished Sermons of Dr. Barrow.
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR 
 
 OF 
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. 
 
 In the life of a scholar who has escaped the trammels 
 of public employment, and shunned the turbulence of 
 party faclion, it cannot be expected that very numerous 
 incidents should be found, to exercise the writer's judg- 
 ment, or excite the reader's curiosity : yet neither of them 
 will have reason to complain, provided the excellence of 
 the subject compensates for the deficience of interest, and 
 the spirit of emulation can be awakened, though curiosity 
 may remain unsatisfied ; in short, if they be led, as in the 
 present instance, to the retrospect of splendid talents, 
 great learning, and various acquirements, uniformly ex- 
 erted in the cause of virtue and for the good of society. 
 It is matter of surprise that some such considerations as 
 these should never have induced any one, qualified for the 
 undertaking, to collect more extensive information, and to 
 compose a more complete biography, than has yet appeared, 
 of the illustrious person who is the subject of our present 
 memoir : the task was strongly recommended, soon after 
 BAR. VOL. I. b
 
 X BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 his decease, by those who best knew his worth ; but their 
 suggestions were unheeded, until his contemporaries fol- 
 lowed him to the silent grave ; and little is known of 
 Isaac Barrow beyond what is contained in a slight sketch 
 drawn up by one of his executors,* and prefixed to the 
 first edition of his works : fortunately however his own 
 writings, particularly those whose Latin dress has too long 
 kept them from general investigation, contain much accurate 
 and authentic information respecting their author, fur- 
 nishing us with as clear an insight into his character, as 
 those of any writer who has not expressly left memorials 
 of his own life. On these genuine and important docu- 
 ments therefore, aided by some additional information 
 collected in a general course of reading, the Editor must 
 rely, whilst he endeavors to do more justice than has 
 hitherto been done, to one of the greatest names that adorn 
 our annals. 
 
 At a very eventful period, when the political horizon 
 began to darken with those storms which shook the foun- 
 dation both of church and state, this great man was born 
 in the metropolis, in the month of October, IGSO.f He 
 
 * Abraham Hill, Esq. Dr. Ward added some new details, aud 
 corrected some errors : see the hiojrapliy of Barrow, in his Lives of 
 the Professors of Gresham College. The short account introduced 
 by Dr. Pope into his life of the Bishop of Salisbury is to be received 
 with some caution. 
 
 t This is Mr. A. Hill's account. Dr. Pope in his life of Seth, 
 Lord Bishop of Salisburj', p. 129, says that this date is not right ; 
 ft>r he liad often heard Dr. Barrow himself say, that he was born on 
 the 29th of February, which could not be in le.SO, that not being a 
 leap-year : the college register however of Peter House, where he 
 was entered as annum agens decimvm quartum, shows that Mr. Hill is 
 not far from the truth at any rate. See \^ ard's Lives, p. 157-
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. XI 
 
 was descended from worthy parents in a very respectable 
 station of life, his father Thomas Barrow being a citizen 
 of London in good repute, and his uncle Isaac elevated to 
 the episcopal see of St. Asaph. His grandfather, Isaac 
 Barrow, Esq. resided at Spiney Abbey in Cambridgeshire, 
 where he was for the term of forty years in the commis- 
 sion for the peace. This Isaac was a son of Philip 
 Barrogh, (for the name is differently spelt,) who published 
 " A Pvlethod of Physic," and who had a brother, also named 
 Isaac, a doctor in medicine, and a considerable benefactor 
 to Trinity College, where he had been tutor to Robert 
 Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, Lord High Treasurer of England. 
 This is all that is recorded of Barrow's family by the 
 father's side : his mother was Ann, daughter of William 
 Buggin, Esq. of North Cray, in Kent, of whose tender 
 care he was deprived at the early age of four years. His 
 first school was that of the Charter House, where he con- 
 tinued but two or three years, and made very little pro- 
 gress in his learning ; for he exhibited no precocity of 
 intellect, no docility or appetite for study, but rather a 
 great fondness for games and sports, especially such as 
 produced quarrels and fighting amongst his schoolfellows. 
 This sort of conduct gave his father very little hope that 
 he would shine in the profession of a scholar, for which he 
 designed him, and as little expectation of that comfort and 
 satisfaction which he afterwards experienced from his son's 
 dutiful and pious disposition : whence he often expressed 
 a solemn wish, that if it should please God to take away 
 any of his children, Isaac might be the one selected. 
 " So vain a thing," says Mr. Hill, " is man's judgment ; 
 so unfit is our providence to guide our own affairs." In 
 truth we should always be cautious before we condemn or
 
 Xn BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 neglect a youth, on account of the early errors and irre- 
 gularities into which he may fall : such extravagances are 
 not always sure indications of depravity; since they may 
 arise from high natural endowments, engrafted on an ar- 
 dent disposition unimproved or misdirected ; they should 
 be regarded therefore with tender solicitude, and subjected 
 to restraint by a skilful and experienced hand. 
 
 His father took the best preliminary step possible to 
 correct young Barrow's propensities, by removing him 
 from the scenes of his early habits, and placing him at 
 Felsted in Essex, where he seems to have met with an 
 excellent instructor and guide ;* and it proves no inconsi- 
 derable knowlege of human nature in the master, that, 
 when his young pupil's good qualities and great abilities 
 began to show themselves, he appointed him to be a little 
 tutor, (according to his biographer's expression,) to the 
 Lord Viscount Fairfax of Emely in Ireland : yet though 
 all inclination to quarrelling was thus subdued in the young 
 man, an undaunted courage, both physical and moral, still 
 remained in after-life ; of which some instances will be 
 recorded hereafter, and one may find a place here. Being 
 sparing of sleep and a very early riser, he one morning 
 went out of a friend's house before the family were up, 
 when a large and fierce mastiff, that was unchained during 
 the night, attacked him with great ferocity ; Barrow 
 however caught the savage animal by the throat, and after 
 a long struggle bore him to the ground : there whilst he 
 held him, he considered with himself what he had better 
 do in the exigency of the case : once he had a mind to 
 
 * I am inlormed by a frieiul, wlio is himself a distinguished orna- 
 ment of Felsted school, that the name of this master was Martin 
 Holheach.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. Xlll 
 
 kill him, but soon rejected that expedient, thinking it 
 would be an unjust action, as the dog only did his duty, 
 and he himself was in fault for rambling out of his lodging 
 before day-light. At length he called out so loud that he 
 awoke the people of the house, who rose and parted the 
 combatants, Barrow having suffered no hurt beyond the 
 straining of his wrists. 
 
 During his residence at Felsted, he was admitted a 
 pensioner of Peter House,* which was Bishop Barrow's 
 College ; but when he was fit to be removed to the Univer- 
 sity in February 1645, his destination was changed to the 
 noble foundation of Trinity, his uncle, together with Mr. 
 Seth Ward, Peter Gunning, and John Barwick, having 
 been ejected from his college the year before, for 
 writing against the Covenant.f At this time his father 
 was with the king at Oxford, having suffered so much 
 from his adherence to the royal cause, that he could not 
 have supported his son at college without assistance from 
 one of those great and benevolent characters that shed a 
 lustre on the age in which they live. The generous friend 
 who thus held out the hand of encouragement to our 
 young scholar was the celebrated Dr. Henry Hammond, 
 himself a sufferer in the cause of loyalty, who took this 
 method of restoring sound learning, piety, and disci- 
 pline, to the established church. At the death of that 
 eminent and good man in 1600, Barrow testified his gra- 
 titude in an epitaph consecrated to his memory, which I 
 have inserted in the margin, not only as a specimen of the 
 exuberant fertility of his style in Latin composition, but 
 because it has been thought to describe with great accu- 
 
 * Dec. loth, 1643, 
 
 t Life oC Dr. John Barnick, p. 36.
 
 XIV BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OP 
 
 racy the writer's character, as well as that of his friend.* 
 The time of his iindergraduateship was spent in the dili- 
 
 *LEGE, LUGE, DISCE. 
 
 Ne te praetergressHm pceniteat, siste pefJera hie et anitnum, Viator. 
 Eleiiim, Hie jacet H. Hammond, S.T. D. Tlieologorum sui seeculi 
 coryphaeus. Literatorum princeps. Auglicae genfis decns, Ec- 
 clesiie columen. Veritatis assertor peiilissimiis. Pacis culfor de- 
 votissimus. Ordinis fautor stiuliosissinius. Aiitiqiiitatis genuinae 
 fidissiiiius interpres, et propugnator acerrimus. Sanctilatis magis- 
 ter priestantissimiis. Omnibus oinameiitis instiuctissimus. Philo- 
 sophus solide acutus, dilucide subtilis. Orator inafTectate politus, 
 nervose copiosus. Disputator vehemens, extra acerbitatem. Egre- 
 gius critieus, absque superbia tamen aut supercilio. Lectionis in- 
 finitae sed exquisite digestae. JMaximi ingenii, majoris judicii, con- 
 summatae eruditionis cum pari uiodestia, tantis dotibus usus prae- 
 clarissime. De ecclesiu, priucipe, palria optime meritus. Utrius- 
 que tabulae legum praeco, observator, vindex. Ecclesite Auglicanae 
 ensis et clypcus; quam a falsi schisinatis labe purgavit, a veri con- 
 tagio munivit ; Romanis hostibus, et perfugis sectariis fusis, fugatis. 
 Sincerae doetrinae radio veteres teriebras pseudo-catholicas dispu- 
 lit, nova lumina Ariti-Catboliea extinxit. Presbjteranam parita- 
 tesn prostravit. Fanaticam licentiara coercuil, Temporum iniqui- 
 tatem expugnavit scriptis victi icibus, patieutia triumphali. Eccle- 
 siastici ordiuis jurisque vindex fortissimus, ac felicissiraus. Litur- 
 giae patronus consultissimus. Theologicorum dogmatum scrutator 
 sedulus. Difficultatura enodator accuratus. Veritatura explorator 
 sagax. Novum Testamentum, et Psalterium Davidicum, lucu- 
 lenta paraphrasi, eximio commentario, sancto exeraplo iilustravit. 
 Calarao scripsit, vita edidit practicuni catechismuni. Christiauce 
 fortitudinis, patientiaj, niansuetudinis illustre exemplar. Mentis 
 insigni prudentia, invicta constantia, candore illibato, solertia inde- 
 fessa mirabilis. Morum integritate spectabilis, gravitate venerabi- 
 lis, comitate amabilis. Summa pietate in Deum ; extreraa tide ia 
 principem ; propensa charitate in omnes conspicuus. Vir scholas- 
 ticus, theologus, plane incomparabilis, omiii epitheto major, quoli- 
 bct elogio potior. Meruit haberi martyr assiduus pro ecclesia cu<<
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. XV 
 
 gent prosecution of his studies ; and though he was at this 
 important period of his life emancipated from the restraint 
 of paternal admonition, he showed that he needed it not, 
 by the purity of his conduct, and the attention which he 
 paid to his religious and moral duties. 
 
 In the year 1G43, the famous Covenant had been rati- 
 fied between England and Scotland ; which, whilst it pre- 
 tended to secure the privileges of parliament, the liberties 
 of the nation, and the king's authority, openly avowed the 
 overthrow of prelacy and of the established church. This 
 covenant, having been taken by the members of both 
 Houses, was inforced, not only in the city of London and 
 many other parts of the kingdom, but with peculiar rigor 
 in the two universities, where many conscientious indivi- 
 duals, masters, fellows, and students, were ejected from 
 their several stations on their refusal to submit to its 
 terms. The loyalty of Barrow led him steadfastly to 
 reject this oath, though he carried himself with such general 
 fairness, candor, and prudence, that he gained friends 
 where he might least have expected them : among these 
 was Dr. Hill, Master of the College, who had been ap- 
 pointed by the parliament in the place of Dr. Comber, 
 ejected for his adherence to the royal cause. This gen- 
 
 ris et vigiliis confectns. Occidit diei noslri Lucifer anno IC'60 sa- 
 liitis partae, primo Regis rcslitnti, paliiaj liberatte, ecclesiae instaii- 
 ratae; quae a se strenuc promota, et ardenter coricupita pnesagiit 
 animo, sed oculo nun adspectavit, in hoc felicissime infelix. — Vade, 
 C'ogita, Irnilare. 
 
 Nee magnum tanien IIammondu7u satis ul!a loquantur 
 
 Saxa, nee a morsu temporis nlla tegant. 
 Clarius oslendit scriptis se illiistriljus, illo 
 Digna siii tantum sunt mouunicnta libri.
 
 XVI BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OP 
 
 tleman, meeting Barrow one day in the court, is said to 
 have laid his hand on his head, and thus to have addressed 
 him : '* Thou art a good lad ; 'tis a pity thou art a cava- 
 lier." Also at another time, when the youth had made a 
 public oration on the anniversary of the 5th of November, 
 and had celebrated former times in such a manner as to 
 reflect on the present, the Master screened him from the 
 resentment of some amongst the fellows, who were pro- 
 voked even to move for his expulsion, silencing them with 
 a striking testimony to the excellence of his character ; and 
 probably not without some misgiving of his own conscience : 
 " Barrow," said he, *' is a better man than any of us." 
 
 A few years afterwards the Engagement, another oath 
 very obnoxious to the royalists, was instituted by the pre- 
 vailing party, requiring all persons to profess true alle- 
 giance to the government, as then established without 
 King or House of Lords ; whilst they who refused it were 
 declared incapable of holding any office in church or state. 
 Barrow was probably induced by considerations like those, 
 which determined Sir Matthew Hale and many other emi- 
 nent conscientious individuals, to acknowlege an unjust 
 but prevailing power : he accordingly signed the Engage- 
 ment; but soon afterwards repenting of what he had done, 
 he went back to the commissioners, declared his dissatis- 
 faction, and got his name erased from the list ; continu- 
 ing ever after, amidst all the tergiversations of party-men 
 and the seductions of self-interest, to move in the straitfor- 
 ward course of honor and loyalty. In 1647 he was chosen 
 a scholar of the house. 
 
 With respect to the junior members of the college, his 
 contemporaries, he is reported to have been very ready in 
 giving the assistance of his superior talents to those who
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. XVll 
 
 needed it; though in return for many exercises, both in 
 prose and verse, he never received any recompense, except 
 one pair of gloves. The same disinterestedness seems to 
 have accompanied him through life ; for he never but 
 twice obtained any pecuniary emolument from the excel- 
 lent and laborious sermons, which he was willing to deliver 
 on all occasions. 
 
 At a time when the studies of our universities were 
 confined within much narrower limits than at present, 
 when the intellectual powers were cramped, and the pro- 
 gress of know lege retarded, by the remains of that scho- 
 lastic philosophy which neglected experiment for hypo- 
 thesis, and dwelt on distinctions of matter, form, and es- 
 sence, too nice to be understood, Barrow set a worthy 
 example of breaking through the trammels of prejudice, 
 into the regions of true and legitimate science. Disgusted 
 with what was falsely called the Aristotelian philosophy, 
 he turned his attention to the writings of Lord Bacon, 
 Galileo, Descartes, and other great writers of the preced- 
 ing age ; and though he was afterwards obliged to reject 
 some notions thence obtained,* yet by this course he ac- 
 quired general habits of sound reasoning, and enlightened 
 views on the subject of education. Nor did he cultivate 
 the abstruse sciences only ; for he exercised his powers of 
 imagination by poetry, refined his taste by a diligent read- 
 ing of the classic authors, improved his judgment and phi- 
 losophy by the study of history, ethics, and legislation, 
 whilst he laid the foundation of those eminent theological 
 acquirements, which crowned his labors, as they have se- 
 
 * III his Opuscula is a long Thesis intitled, " Cartesiana Hypo- 
 thesis de Materia et Motu haud satislacit praccipuis Naturae Phae- 
 nomenis. In Comitiis 1652."
 
 XVUl BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 cured his fame. He had, as was said of another extra- 
 ordinary individual, " that g-eneral curiosity, to which no 
 kind of knowlege is indifferent or superfluous :" he was 
 aware how all the objects of human intellect combine to- 
 gether, and what mutual light is shed from truth to truth : 
 he knew that mental, like corporeal vigor, is maintained 
 and increased by exercise ; and that a superior mind is 
 aided, not oppressed, by the various stores of literary at- 
 tainment : above all, he never looked on his studies in 
 the light of a selfish amusement, but pursued them from 
 the highest motives, the advancement of virtue, and the 
 melioration of society. 
 
 Such appear to have been the sentiments and pursuits 
 of Barrow in the early stages of his academical life ; nor 
 to these did he ever prove false in his future brilliant 
 career. In 1648 he took the degree of Bachelor of Arts ; 
 but as the names in this and several succeeding years are 
 arranged, in the University Register, according to colleges, 
 without any regard to the order of merit, it is impossible 
 to determine his place on the tripos : had such order been 
 then established, there can be little doubt where the name 
 of Newton's great precursor would have appeared. The 
 following is the recorded account of his introduction to 
 mathematical studies. Reading Scaliger on Eusebius, he 
 soon perceived the dependence of chronology on astronomy: 
 this put him on the study of Ptolemy's Almagest ; but 
 finding that book and all astronomical calculations to be 
 founded on geometry, he applied himself to Euclid's Ele- 
 ments, of which he published a new and improved edition : 
 from thence he proceeded to the demonstration of the other 
 ancient mathematicians, having as an associate in these 
 invigorating studies, the celebrated naturalist John Ray, a
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. XIX 
 
 man of the same honest independent spirit as himself,* to 
 whom he was ever afterwards united in the strictest bonds 
 of friendship. 
 
 It would be gratifying" to know who were the other in- 
 timate companions of his youth ; but we are informed by 
 his biographer that he had few, except in his own college : 
 of this we may be certain, that none but the studious and 
 the good were the associates of Isaac Barrow. There 
 can be little doubt but that his friendship with the learned 
 and amiable Tillotson, at this time a student of Clare 
 Hall, was thus early formed, as well as that with Abraham 
 Hill, one of his executors, and his brief biographer; and 
 though the intimacy was of a later date, and Barrow ap- 
 pears in the light of a patron as well as that of a friend, we 
 may perhaps insert in this list the name of him who stands 
 highest in the annals of scientific fame, the immortal New- 
 ton. Such was Barrow's regard for that great man, that he 
 not only fostered and encouraged his rising genius, but by his 
 disinterested generosity gave occasion for the display of his 
 matured excellence, when he resigned to him the mathe- 
 matical chair in 1699. Yet such was his impartiality, that 
 when, as Master of the College, he had to decide on the 
 merits of Newton and Mr. Robert Uvedale, who were 
 candidates for a lay-fellowship, he preferred Mr. Uve- 
 dale as senior of the two, when he found them equal in lite- 
 rary attainments. j- 
 
 * III 16G2, Hay, being unwilling to comply witli the act of'tuii- 
 fbrmity, re.signcti his fellowship, though the college strongly urged 
 him to retain it. IJarrftw was a dccidcil, coiiseientioiis, orthodox 
 member of the estaliiisinnent ; but this difference of principles 
 created no other difference betwet n those great and good men. 
 
 t Ilutcliins's Dorsetshire, vol. ii. p. JO-1. 2ii(i edit.
 
 XX BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 When the time came that Barrow could be chosen 
 fellow, he obtained that distinction solely by his great 
 merit; since nothing else could have recommended him 
 to his electors, whose political opinions were generally ad- 
 verse to his own : his case affords but an example of that 
 strict impartiality which seems ever to have distinguished 
 the rulers of this noble college, when left to the free ex- 
 ercise of their elective rights. In 1651 he commenced 
 Master of Arts ; and from a Latin speech preserved in his 
 Opuscula, it appears that he executed the office of Mode- 
 rator that same year.* In the speech alluded to, which 
 is a very remarkable specimen of mature judgment, as well 
 as of various and extensive scholarship, in so young a 
 man, he gives many admirable instructions both to young 
 and old ; indignantly reprehends the vices and follies of a 
 dissolute age ; indicates the best remedies ; and recom- 
 mends the noblest objects of study ; but in particular he 
 inveighs with caustic severity against that licentiousness 
 which, in the place of wit, seems to have tainted the 
 speeches of his predecessors in the schools ; insomuch that 
 custom demanded of him to undertake, as it were, the 
 combined character of Ulysses and Thersites, of Demo- 
 critus and Heraclitus ; or on the same stage to act the 
 part of Cato and of Roscius. Barrow however, after a 
 severe objurgation of his audience, who stood gaping for 
 their accustomed jests, refuses to become a buffoon for 
 their amusement, or a pandar to their depraved taste ; 
 
 * The title of this speech is "Oratio Mod'^: in Auspiciis termini 
 Apr. 30, 1661." In this case he must have been Moderator immedi- 
 ately after be had incepted, and before he was created M. A. or he 
 was created by a special grace, which was not an uncommon thing 
 in tliose days.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. XXl 
 
 whilst with great naivete and candor he professes himself 
 ready to indulge in that cheerful festive humor which 
 made him the delight and ornament of society. Illud si 
 verum sit, quod fama loquitur, stomachos vestros solidi 
 omnis cibi pertcBsos, et dapium Rhetoricarum nauseam, 
 et saluhrioris PhilosopMee gravedinem usque adeo inva- 
 sisse, ut prceter futilia qucedam hellaria, et putidissirrho 
 nugarum fercida palato vestro nihil sapiat ; ne ipsa sa- 
 pientia, nisi insipida, neque Veritas, nisi jocis condita, 
 neque ratio, nisi ridiculo tincta; mala profecto sorte ego 
 vohis coquus su7n datus, ad ilium inaniam deliciarum 
 apparatum neque ingenio factus, neque studio insti- 
 
 tutus Innocentes jocos, tempestivos sales, lihe- 
 
 rales facetias, (ita me Mus(b omnes et Gratia ainent) 
 nemo est usquam qui me sincerius diligat, nemo qui te- 
 tricam illam et inanem ptlerumque austeritatem vehemen- 
 tius detestetur.^' 
 
 About this time he seems to have applied himself with 
 considerable diligence to Latin versification ; but the 
 subjects selected for the exercise of his muse were, ac- 
 cording to the taste of the age, better adapted to scholas- 
 tic disputation than to the divine art of poesy .f Con- 
 ceiving also that the times were unpropitious to men of his 
 opinion in the affairs of church and state, he designed to 
 follow the profession of medicine ; accordingly for some 
 years he bent the course of his studies that way, making 
 great progress in the sciences of botany, chemistry, and 
 anatomy. But after mature deliberation with himself, and 
 frequent conference with his worthy uncle the Bishop of St. 
 Asaph, he determined to make divinity the end and aim 
 
 * Opuscula, p. 136. 
 
 t See his Opuscula, pp. 248—267.
 
 XXII BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 of all his labors; conceiving himself bound to this by the 
 oath which he had taken when elected to a fellowship. 
 Henceforward he never lost sight of this principle of 
 action; and whether he dwelt with congenial spirits in the 
 Academic groves, or with the barbaric spoilers of the By- 
 zantine throne, we find him still engaged in theological 
 inquiries, and imbibing sacred eloquence from the works 
 of departed sages. 
 
 With regard to the character which he established for 
 himself amongst his contemporaries, nothing more amia- 
 ble can well be imagined. He seems to have had no ene- 
 mies : all respected his manly independence ; admired his 
 integrity and urbanity; enjoyed the sunshine of his bene- 
 volent temper, and the enlivening eloquence of his dis- 
 course ; whilst they were improved by the facility with 
 which he communicated to them the riches of his well- 
 stored mind, and by the instructive comments which he 
 used to make, as well on the importance as on the truth of 
 questions under discussion.* This combination of amiable 
 and exalted qualities was the talisman which preserved him 
 safe in all the conflicts of those disordered times; which 
 rendered him beloved by all his associates whilst he was 
 their equal, and unenvied when he became their superior. 
 
 Barrow's tutor during his undergraduateship had been 
 the celebrated Dr. Duport, Greek professor, and after- 
 wards Dean of Peterborough ; who, as one of his learned 
 successors in both these pieces of preferment, has well ob- 
 served,}- appears to have been the main instrument by which 
 literature was upheld in the seventeenth century ; and who, 
 
 * See liis biography by Mr. A. Hill. Works vol, i. fol. edit. 
 t Dr. Monk, now Bisliop of Glocester. See his Memoir of 
 Duport in the Museum Criticum, vol. ii, p. 672,
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. XXlll 
 
 though seldom named and little known at present, en- 
 joyed an almost transcendent reputation for a great length 
 of time amongst his contemporaries, as well as in the gene- 
 ration which immediately succeeded. This eminent scho- 
 lar, though ejected from his prebendal stall at Lincoln, 
 and his archdeaconry of Stowe, for refusing the Covenant, 
 was yet suffered to retain his professorship, the duties of 
 which he continued to discharge before a large audience 
 during all the troubles and commotions of the civil war ; 
 but even this piece of well-merited preferment was taken 
 from him in 1654 by the commissioners of University 
 reform, who rejected from all offices, at discretion, such 
 members as refused subscription to the Engagement. 
 According to Mr. A. Hill's account, Duport resigned the 
 professorial chair, and recommended his favorite pupil 
 Barrow for his successor, who justified his tutor's good 
 opinion of him by a very able probationary exercise, though 
 he failed of success, through an opinion among the electors 
 that he was inclined to Arminianism. It is stated however 
 on better authority, * that the commissioners themselves 
 conferred the office on Ralph Widdrington, fellow of 
 Christ's College,'!- whose literary merits would probably 
 not have had so much weight with those worthies, as his 
 relationship to Sir Thomas Widdrington, Commissioner of 
 the Great Seal, and Speaker of Cromwell's Parliament. 
 
 Disappointed in this object of honorable ambition, and 
 wishing to escape from the fanaticism which reigned in his 
 own country, Barrow projected a scheme of foreign travel ; 
 nor can we wonder that a person with so cultivated a 
 
 * Memoir of Duport in Mus. Crit. vol. ii. p. 683. 
 t He had been appoinleil in a similar manner Public Orator lliree 
 years previous to lliis event.
 
 XXIV BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 mind should be anxious to improve his knowlege of books 
 by experience of the world ; or that he should pant to 
 survey the triumphs of modern art, and to traverse those 
 delightful scenes where the Spirit of antiquity still seems 
 to linger. 
 
 Accordingly in the month of June* 1655, after having 
 sold his books to provide means for his voyage, he left 
 England, and proceeded in the first instance to Paris : 
 there he found his father, at the court of his exiled sover- 
 eign, and made him a seasonable present out of his slender 
 viaticum. Soon after his arrival he dispatched a long 
 letter to his college, f in which he gives an amusing and 
 instructive account of his journey, as well as of those 
 objects which particularly interested him in the French 
 capital. 
 
 After a poetical though somewhat confused exordium, 
 he prays that the Goddess of Health may wing her flight to 
 his beloved Alma Mater, in some flowing lines, which 
 contain a curious compliment to the sedgy Cam, as well as 
 to the regal Seine. J 
 
 The vessel in which he left his native shores seems to 
 have been scarcely sea-worthy ; a wretched bark, more 
 like a witch's sieve than an English packet. 
 
 * See Ward's Lives of the Greshara Professors, p. 168. 
 t It is a Latin letter, the first part writlen in hexameters, Ihe 
 second in prose : he calls it ' Epistolae ififjidrpov pariter ac aixfrpou 
 qaoddam rudimentum.' 
 
 J Ad doctos pontes, tumidis qitos alluit acer 
 Camus aquis ; Camus, quo non dilectior alter 
 RivtHus Aiinides conspergit rore puellas, 
 (Nee vcteres olim qui prieterfluxit Athenas, 
 Nee qui Parisiis prcehet mudo balnea Musis,) 
 Carpat iter.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. XXV 
 
 — Thesea puppis rugosior, Argfis 
 Quae numerare annos, Argique foramina posset; 
 Ignibus exponi quam sa?vis dignior undis. 
 
 Accordingly old Nereus, in pity or contempt, indulges the 
 crew with a calm, which operates with terrible effect on 
 the stomach of our fresh-water sailor ; though he revives 
 at sight of the lofty cliffs of Normandy, in which fine 
 province he first sets foot on a foreign soil. 
 
 The vessel enters that port, into which, as Barrow ob- 
 serves, the great Henry IV. ran his bark when almost ship- 
 wrecked in the waves of political commotion ; alluding to 
 that great monarch's flight to Dieppe, as a last place of 
 refuge in 1589, when he won the hearts of its citizens by 
 his frank and manly address to them : — " Mes amis, point de 
 ceremonie ; je ne demande que vos cceurs, bon pain, bon vin, 
 et bon visage d'hotes." Nor was it long before he who came 
 a suppliant returned a conqueror, having gloriously de- 
 feated the army of the League, in the plain of Arques, 
 when its commander the Duke de Mayenne retreated 
 from forces ten times less than his own in numerical 
 strength.* Henry then rebuilt the castle of Dieppe, and 
 conferred honorable titles on the city — parva7u titulis 
 Diepam regalihus aiixit. 
 
 When our traveller lands, he is astonished at the crowd 
 of women in the streets, and supposes that Henry, who 
 was a great lover of the sex, was not unwilling to trust his 
 fortune to such partisans : he notices, however, their 
 
 * Henry's speech before this battle to his j)risoner the Count de 
 Belin, when asked by the latter how he could hope to resist ho 
 powerful an army with so small a force, is very characteristic of him. 
 " Ajoutez aux troupes que vous voyez, rnon bon droit, et vous ne 
 douterez plus de quel cole sera la victoire."
 
 XXVI BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 general want of beauty,* as well as their very irascible 
 disposition ; which is not at all surprising, since the fish- 
 market of Dieppe rivals our Billingsgate, and the nymphs 
 of such districts claim a right, from time immemorial, to 
 the free exercise of temper and tongue. The French 
 ladies however seem to have been at this time desirous of 
 extending their privileges ; for he is witness of a desperate 
 attack which they made on the hotel of the unfortunate 
 collector of customs, after having loaded their aprons on 
 the beach with weapons such as those which Telamonian 
 Ajax hurled at his antagonist Hector. 
 
 Dieppe does not present now the same features which 
 Barrow saw and admired ; for it was utterly destroyed by 
 the English in the memorable bombardment of 1694, with 
 the exception of the fine church of St. Jacques, that of 
 St. Remi, and the castle, which stands on an eminence at 
 the western extremity of the town. The adjacent country, 
 however, does not seem to have changed its appearance, 
 since our traveller described its broad roads and fertile 
 fields, with rows of apple-trees for lines of demarcation, 
 the ruddy color of whose pendulous fruit inflames the 
 bosom and invites the hand of the passenger. — H<z sata 
 jiracingunt, h(B comjnta cuncta corona. 
 
 After curiously describing the turning-lathe, he adverts 
 to that exquisite manufacture in ivory for which the place 
 is still celebrated, and which owes its origin to the first 
 Christian settlement on the coast of Senegal, which was made 
 by the mariners of Dieppe.f Numidicum vertunt ebur in 
 
 * Sed <|uuni niille vides, iion est spectabilis una. 
 t It was possibly (says Dr. Dibdiii in his very amusing tour) under 
 the bold excursion of such distinguished navigators and captains as
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. XXVll 
 
 miracula rerum. Thence he digresses to the numerous 
 monastic orders, whom he lashes with great severity of 
 sarcasm. 
 
 Going to St. Jacques, he finds all his bile moved by the 
 absurdities of the popish mass, by the decorations of the 
 altars, by the vestments of the priests, and by the frauds of 
 superstition practised in the nineteen little chapels, which 
 stand round the body of that church, " as chickens surround 
 the mother hen." He is horrified at the degrading mum- 
 meries and pageants exhibited in the religious festivals ; 
 but his fiercest anger is poured out against the idolatrous 
 act of transubstantiation ; and probably the idea then first 
 entered his mind of writing that treatise against papal 
 supremacy, which is sufficient to carry his name down 
 to the latest posterity. In the mean time he gives vent to 
 his indignation in the following lines : 
 
 Quorl ni.si jam taiitis reverentia clebita rebus 
 Jnjiceret Musaj (acitnrni fraena pudoris, , 
 
 Porrigit immensum justa imiignatio canipum. 
 Quo tumidum pectus conceptas explicet iras; 
 Quum reputat quali male saiius fronte sacerdos 
 Mirifico tribus evulgatis ore susunis 
 Se jactat fecisse Deum, factumque vorasse. 
 
 Parmentier, Dusmesnil, and tlie great merchant Ango, in the 
 I61I1 and 17t!i centuries, that the ivory trade attained its highest 
 pitch of j)rospcrily. Tlic establishments of the Dieppois in Guinea 
 necessarily facilitated the means of improving this branch of com- 
 merce. Walpolc in his Anecd. of Painting, v. iii. p. 262, makes 
 honorable mention of Le Marchand, a native of Dieppe, who worked 
 very successfully for several years in London. Evelyn, who visited 
 Dieppe in 1G44, observes that it then "abounded with workmen 
 who made and sold curiosities of ivory and tortoise-shell, and what- 
 ever the East Indies afforded for cabinets and purcelan, &c." — Bib- 
 liographical Tour, V. i. p. 18.
 
 XXVIU BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 On his journey towards Rouen he dilates on the excel- 
 lence and cheapness of the Norman cider ; nor does he for- 
 get to indulge in reflexions on the romantic history of Wil- 
 liam the Conqueror, who breathed his last in this splendid 
 and populous capital of the province : 
 sed ejus 
 
 Abrupit stamen medium objice villa supeibo 
 Illustris quam tola vocal provincia matrem : 
 Magna satis, tectis pulchra, instructissima vitae 
 Subsidiis, populi iocuples, uberrima gazis, 
 Queis dives tellus, queis ditius affluit aequor ; 
 Quas ibi per Sequanae vicina volumiiia Nereus 
 Deponit, dulcisque tributa remunerat undae. 
 
 Indeed, he must be a dull traveller who can behold with- 
 out emotion the magnificent approach to this noble city, 
 lying, with its rich Gothic towers and spires, embosomed 
 in picturesque hills, and smiling over its broad and tributary 
 stream. 
 
 Our traveller's attention is first directed to the ruins of 
 a magnificent stone bridge, (once consisting of thirteen 
 arches, built by the Empress Maud, daughter of Henry 
 I. king of England ;) and next to its ingeniously-con- 
 structed substitute of massive timber, placed over nineteen 
 barges, the undulatory motion of which, and its rise or fall 
 with the tide are thus described : 
 
 quern non excisi cautibus orbcs 
 
 Sustentant, curvis nee ligneus ordo columuis 
 Subjicitur stabili fundamine ; pup|)ibus omnis 
 Incumbit, variisque inoertae legibus undtt 
 Obsequitur; nunc elatus torrente superbo 
 Assurgit, mox deprimitur cum gurglte manco : &c. 
 
 Leaving the banks of the Seine, he enters the pictu- 
 resque old town which even now carries the traveller back,
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. XXIX 
 
 and places him amongst the habitations of men who existed 
 in the sixteenth century, unprofaned by modern improve- 
 ments. 
 
 Here his eye is attracted by the splendid mansions of the 
 archbishop and the nobility ; by the fine market-place, lau- 
 titiasque fori grandes luxusque macelli ; and by that curi- 
 ous specimen of Gothic architecture, which holds a middle 
 station between ecclesiastic and domestic, the far-famed 
 Palais de Justice. Heylin, who also saw the building in 
 perfection, thus describes its grand hall : " it is so gallantly 
 and richly built, that I must needs confess it surpasseth all 
 that ever I saw in my life. The palace of the Louvre hath 
 nothing in it comparable ; the ceiling is all inlaid with 
 gold, yet doth the workmanship exceed the matter :" and 
 Barrow's account corresponds with the foregoing, when he 
 speaks of the 
 
 praeclara palatia Legum, 
 Coelatas auro cameras, serpentia muris 
 Lilia, qua. vario celebratur curia c(£tu. 
 
 From hence he proceeds to the churches, amongst which 
 that glory of Gothic architecture, St. Ouen,* stands pre- 
 eminent, though he leaves it undescribed, attracted by the 
 
 * The lightness, the elegance, the beautiful proportions, and the 
 appropriate ornaments, of this church are, as far as my experience 
 goes, quite unrivalled. To omit its magnificent rose-windows, its 
 airy columns, and its finely-vaulted roof, it has one feature peculiar 
 to itself, which covers the architect with glory. I allude to the fine 
 open gallery which runs round the whole church, nave transepts 
 and choir, in place of a triforium, and which allows an unusual al- 
 titude to the noble windows, whose painted glass is seen through 
 the tracery. The length of this church in French feet is 416; that 
 of the transci)ts 130: its breadth is 78, and the height of the vaulted 
 roof 100. The central tower is 240 feet high.
 
 XXX BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 superior external magnificence of the cathedral and its 
 ambitious spire, which will not suffer itself to be so neg- 
 lected : — 
 
 — nee de se sinit ambiliosa laneri 
 Quae sola ex tribus a tiunco surgeiitibus uno 
 Eminet, alque impellit acuta cuspide nubes.* 
 
 In describing the ornaments and fine monuments in this 
 edifice, he falls into the common error of supposing most 
 of them to have been executed whilst the English had pos- 
 session of the province ; and when he notices this as the 
 burial-place of the Regent Duke of Bedford, who must be 
 consigned to eternal infamy as the base murderer of the 
 heroic Joan of Arc, he notices also the high-minded 
 answer of Louis XI. who, when he was counselled by 
 envious persons to deface the tomb of his antagonist, used 
 
 * Tbis tower, wbicb fell a few years since by a conflagration, was 
 380 French feet in height. The length of the cathedral is 408 feet, 
 its breadth 83, and the height of its vaulted roof 84. Its great wes- 
 tern front is perhaps the most gorgeous facade that any church pos- 
 sesses, uniting vastness and variety of outline, with richness of 
 ornament, and picturesque effect, to a marvellous degree : its highest 
 point of elevation is about 250 feet, and its breadth 180: its two 
 flanking towers are noble structures, particularly that at the S.W. 
 corner, which almost rivals the central tower of St. Ouen iu height 
 and richness of decoration : it is sometimes called the tour de 
 henrre, from the impost on ithat article granted for its erection, or 
 tmir d'Amboise, from the distinguished prelate under whom it was 
 begun and finished, and who placed therein his enormous bell : the 
 three deep porches and pediments of this facade are filled will) in- 
 numerable statues of popes, emperors, kings, cardinals, bishops, 
 &c. Probably the north and south porches of this cathedral are 
 equally unrivalled ; but its interior is as inferior to that of St. (Jucn 
 as St. Paul's is to St. Peter's.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. XXXI 
 
 these princely words : "What hpnor shall it be for us, or 
 you, to break this monument, and to pull out of the ground 
 the bones of him, whom in his life-time neither ray father 
 nor his progenitors, with all their puissance, were once 
 able to make tly a foot backward ? who by his strength, 
 policy, and wit, kept them all out of the principal domi- 
 nions of France, and out of this noble duchy of Normandy? 
 Wherefore I say first, God save his soul! and let his body 
 now lie in rest, which, when he was alive, could have dis- 
 quieted the proudest of us all. And for this tomb, I 
 assure you it is not so worthy or convenient as his honor 
 and acts have deserved."* 
 
 Heiois monumenta rapi, manesque lacessi 
 Tranqiiillos (niagnis terrentur scilicet umbris 
 Degeneiis animaj) vana exoptantibus ir&, 
 Rex etiam fato oppressae virtutis amicus 
 Abnuit, et qui se potuit defendere viviis, 
 Judice me, dixit, meruit post fata qiiietem. 
 
 Yet the tomb, after all, had disappeared, and Barrow 
 was disappointed in his search for it : — tumulum spes irrita 
 qucerit. He was not aware that the French Calvinists, who 
 were quite as malignant as the English Puritans, destroyed 
 it in their merciless attacks on ecclesiastical architecture 
 
 * Sandford, Ed. 1707. p. 315. "There is a curious chapter," says 
 Dr. Dibdin, " in Pommeraye's * Histoire de I'Eglise Cath. de Rouen,' 
 p. 203, respecting this duke's taking the habit of a canon of the 
 cathedral, attending with his first wife, Anne of Burgundy, and 
 throwing himself on the liberality and kindness of the monks, to be 
 received by them as one of their order." This almost matches the 
 act of Lady Margaret foundress of St. Jolui's Coll. Camb., who 
 made herself a vestal, and took the vows, in her old age, and after 
 having had three husbands.
 
 XXXH BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 in the sixteenth century, when, besides other atrocities, 
 they disinterred the bodies of St. Ouen, St. Nicaise, and 
 St. Remi, burned them in the very church, and scattered 
 their ashes to the winds. 
 
 But though Barrow is unable to discover the sepulcre 
 of his countryman,* he sees and describes with admiration 
 the sumptuous monument erected to the great minister 
 Cardinal d'Amboise, by his nephew, who succeeded him in 
 the archbishopric of Rouen. The labor of seven years was 
 expended on this superb work ; 
 
 Quk merito minor Ambositis sub marmore clausus 
 
 Conspicuo perituri oblivia nominis arcet. 
 
 Marmora quid loquor? hunc resonabit buccina major, 
 
 Et spisso clamore per aethera differet altum 
 
 Immani vocis certamine Georgius ingens : 
 
 Cujus in eloquium si vastam impellere molera 
 
 Vis hominum posset, Gangetidis incola ripaj 
 
 Ultimus audiret perculs^ mente sonantem ; 
 
 Exaudiret totus et obsurdesceret orbis : 
 
 Concussas nutare domos, fragilesque fenestras 
 
 Dissultare, feros flatus regnare videres. 
 
 Is posset clamor cunctas perrumpere spha?ras, &c. 
 
 * On a lozenge behind the altar is the following inscription : 
 
 AD DEXTRUM ALTARIS LATUS 
 
 JACET 
 
 JOHANNES DUX BEDFORDI 
 
 NORMANNIJE PROREX. 
 
 OBIIT ANNO 
 
 MCCCCXXXV. 
 
 In a chapel of this cathedral is the tomb of Rollo, first duke of 
 Normandy, and in one opposite is that of his son William Long- 
 sword : the effigies of both are still preserved. The tombs that 
 once adorned the choir, those of Charles V. of France, of Richard 
 Coeur-de-Lion (whose heart was buried here), and of William son
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. XXXlii 
 
 Few readers probably would guess the instrument which 
 Barrow here declares so fit to carry the fame of his hero 
 over all the realms of earth and air : be it then known 
 that in these sonorous verses he alludes to an enormous 
 bell, the largest ever suspended in frame- work, with which 
 the Cardinal adorned his tower, and which was called after 
 its donor's name, Georges cVAmhoise, like our Tom of 
 Lincoln. It was cast in 1501 by one Jean le Masson, 
 who is said to have died with joy at his success in the 
 attempt, not living to hear its sound when it was first 
 swung in 1502 by sixteen sturdy ringers.* Its diameter 
 at the base was 30 feet, and its weight 33,000 pounds ; 
 that of its clapper being 1838 pounds, which occasioned its 
 fracture, when it was rung in 1786 on the occasion of Louis 
 XVJth's paying a visit to Rouen. f 
 
 Quitting with reluctance this monster of sound, which 
 he has celebrated in notes deep-mouthed as its own, our 
 traveller resumes his journey along the beautiful banks of 
 the Seine, studded with woody isles, in the direction of 
 Paris. As he proceeds southward, he remarks, what is 
 still observable, the appearance and gradual increase of 
 vines, succeeding to the apple-trees of Lower Normandy. 
 
 of Geoffrey Plantagenet, were removed in 1736, as interfering' with 
 the works then going forward : they have since been destroyed ; 
 but there still remains a beautiful monument erected to the Duke 
 de Brez^, grand Seneschal of Normandy, by his celebrated but 
 faithless spouse, Diana of Poitiers. 
 
 • Pommeraye, p. 50. 
 
 t This clapper is said to be still preserved ; but the bell itself 
 was taken down at the Revolution, and melted for the purpose of 
 casting cannon. 
 
 BAR. VOL. I. c
 
 Xxxiv BIOGRAPHICAL MEMQIR OF 
 
 Sic dum pomiferis celeies excedimus arvis, 
 Persequimurqiie diem tnedinm, fontesque caloram, 
 Obrcpit Bacchus sensim, parceque trementes •" 
 
 Exerit in limbos inimici frig'oris ulnas: 
 Mox tepidi afilafii faclns fidentior Austri 
 Densius objectat vineta feiacia : &c. 
 
 When he enters the Elysian valley of Montmorency, 
 V hose fields glow with the ruddy purple of the cherry, 
 added to that of the grape, Paris, the present goal of his 
 desires, opens to view, and he abruptly closes the poetical 
 part of this epistle. 
 
 In the remaining portion, he modestly proposes to supply 
 this defect by the addition of some hungling prose. An 
 inspection however of his composition will soon show that 
 the character given of it by himself is not to be relied on ; 
 for though his rich and exuberant flow of genius does at 
 times overwhelm his taste, and judgment, and discretion; 
 though he often exhibits sentences inaccurately con- 
 structed, or employs words of inferior latinity, and phrases 
 not quite analogous to the rules of syntax ; yet he has the 
 language fully at command, dives into its deepest recesses, 
 and, as it were, exhausts its energies in the boundless 
 variety of his expressions. 
 
 In this part of his dispatch from the French capital 
 Jiarrow discovers such a close attention to passing events, 
 such a keen discrimination of character, and such a remark- 
 able insight into political causes and effects, that it seems 
 probable, if he had early addicted himself to such pursuits, 
 he would have made a great statesman, especially if honesty 
 and integrity be considered an addition to pre-eminent 
 abilities. 
 
 V^ery few years before his arrival at Paris, Louis XIV.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. XXXV 
 
 had been set free from the restraints of his minority, and 
 the troubles of civil war : the tranquillity of peace, says 
 our author, had succeeded to the din of arms ; fortune 
 favored the external projects of the French monarch ; and 
 the internal face of things presented a smiling aspect to 
 the unreflecting observer : at court splendor and gallantry 
 reigned triumphant ; plays, masquerades, balls, feasts, and 
 every other species of amusement seemed to form the chief 
 business of life ; and nothing of ill omen appeared, or was 
 expected. Yet the keen eye of Barrow saw the elements 
 of mischief lurking beneath the deceitful surface of things: 
 he saw, and although the revolutionary tempest may have 
 exploded later than was anticipated, he asks with a kind of 
 prophetic spirit, ** what state of affairs can be durable, which 
 is supported by violence ? Who can preserve undisturbed 
 the patience of a people whose very bowels are unceasingly 
 torn by the hooks of extortion ; where the minds of the 
 lower ranks are exasperated against the nobility, by the 
 memory of past, and the sense of present injuries ; where 
 the administration of law and justice is not confided to 
 those who are fitted for it by integrity and legal knowlege, 
 but where that which ought to be the reward of virtue 
 becomes the means of gain to the avaricious ; where the 
 distribution of high offices in the army, in the state, and 
 at the court, is not made with reference to dignity and 
 worth, but to the price offered by purchasers ; where the 
 soldiers who hazard limbs and life for their country receive 
 words for pay, and are happy when they obtain a tythe 
 of the latter ; where, in short, the nation is kept within 
 the bounds of duty, not by the attractive power of bene- 
 volence towards their superiors, but by force and the reins 
 of terror ! When such a disgraceful state of things is
 
 XXXVl BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 constantly seen, talked of, and urged as the means of ex- 
 citement, what firm hope can there be of peace ; what 
 lasting possession of tranquillity I" 
 
 He next portrays with a masterly hand the character 
 and fortunes of that ambitious minister, " sprung (as he 
 observes) from the same country as the giants,'"* and now 
 at the head of affairs in France : — Rerian potitur quidam 
 Gigantum patria oriundus ; qui ex obscurce conditionis 
 angustiis tandem in ecclesiasticee purpurce ampUtudinem 
 enixus, cum principihus regio sanguine claris, fortitudine 
 consilio et favor e j)opulari subnixis, i:eg) TrgcoTelcov authori- 
 tatis et potentics certare ausus, ex impari congressu 
 superior evasit. Mox cum adversa fortuna conjlictari 
 sustinuit, et suo culmine deturbatus, fugatus, hostis 
 reijnibliccE pronunciatus, reditum suiim procurare, amissa 
 gubernacula recuperare, adversarios successu exultantes 
 reprimere, eorumque quosdam in ordinem redigere, alios 
 ex arena abigere potuit : nunc in authoritatis sedem repo- 
 situs, in ed stabilius firmari videtur : pracipuos princi- 
 pum et nobiliuvi sibi affinitate et necessitudine devinxit : 
 provinciarum rectores ab ejus nutu jy^ndent ; &c. 
 
 He then goes on to expose that extraordinary avarice of 
 the man, and that system of extortion, which may shake 
 even this Marpesian rock, may move this Delos, axiV^jro'v weg 
 eoOo-«v. As an instance of the Cardinal's peculation, he 
 describes an attempt lately made by him to debase the 
 public money, through the introduction of gold and silver 
 pieces called lilies. These not only contained more alloy, 
 but were less in weight by one sixth than the current coin 
 of the realm : great murmurs were raised not only by the 
 
 * Cardinal Mazariu, of an ancient Sicilian family transplanted to 
 Rome, was born in 1602; died in 1661.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. XXXVll 
 
 common people, but by commercial men, and by the par- 
 liament of Paris, which refused to ratify the king's edict, 
 and even began to deliberate about means for redressing the 
 evil. Louis however now determined to restrain this 
 assembly, which had made many struggles for power in 
 the beginning of his reign, within its ancient limits.* 
 Having ordered them to attend to their proper business, 
 and sent the chancellor to threaten them with his vengeance 
 unless they immediately registered his edict, he banished 
 five of their counsellors, and thus put an end to their oppo- 
 sition ; though the quiet thence produced had a more dan- 
 gerous appearance than the previous commotion. 
 
 Barrow next turns to the state of theological affairs ; 
 giving a very interesting and animated account of the 
 disputes then agitating the Sorbonne, particularly the cu- 
 rious disputations and judicial proceedings which had 
 lately taken place between the Jesuits and Arnauld the 
 celebrated Jansenist, when the presence of a bigoted 
 chancellor,! sent on the part of the king, and an enor- 
 mous number of clamorous Mendicants who filled the hall, 
 procured an unjust sentence of expulsion against the ac- 
 cused, and gave occasion to the famous Pascal for observing, 
 in his Provincial Letters, ** that it was a much easier thing 
 to find Monks than arguments.^' 
 
 Barrow augurs well for the security of protestantism in 
 the realm, from a court anecdote at that time in circula- 
 
 * Le Roi dfes i' annee 1655, elait venu au parlement, en grosses 
 boUes et un fouet a la main, dcfendre les assemblees des chambres, 
 et il avail parle avcc taut de ciialeur, que des ce jour on previt 
 nn changement total dans le royaunie.— Hist, du Pari, de Paris, 
 par M. Voltaire, p. 265. 
 
 t Seguier.
 
 XXXVm BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 tioii. It was said that the Archbishop of Thoulouse, a' 
 man of hig-h character for erudition, having lately arrived 
 from his province, had been with the queen-mother, Anne 
 of Austria, and made bitter complaints against the liberty 
 accorded to members of the reformed church there, whom 
 he dignified by the epithets of heretics and rebels, implor- 
 ing her Majesty's aid against their evil machinations. In- 
 stead, however, of the reply which he expected, the queen 
 informed him that better subjects did not exist in all the 
 realm, and extolled their loyalty far above that of their ac- 
 cusers. To this opinion one of the marshals of France, 
 present at the conference, warmly assented, as did the 
 king also himself, who came in soon after and learned the 
 subject of their conversation : he added moreover his deter- 
 mination of securing to his protestant subjects all the li- 
 berty which they had obtained by the edicts of his prede- 
 cessors. Yet this was the bigoted tyrant who in a few 
 years afterwards revoked the Edict of Nantes, exposed 
 these best of subjects to the most horrible persecutions, 
 and by one execrable act of despotism forced thousands 
 to seek for liberty and life far from the limits of their na- 
 tive land. 
 
 Turning to the subject of literature and science, Barrow 
 laments the present deficiency of talent, and can find no 
 names worthy of being mentioned but those of Arnaud 
 and Robervalle. In perambulating the numerous colleges, 
 he sees nothing eminent except their roofs; nothing con- 
 spicuous but their walls ; declaring that the Sorbonne, 
 the College of Navarre, and that of the Jesuits, all put 
 together, would not equal Trinity either in splendor or in 
 size. This leads him to a pleasing display of affection 
 towards that beloved place of his education, in comparison
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. XXXIX 
 
 with which all the wonders that attract his notice in fo- 
 reign realms are considered as vile trash. Quam cegre 
 a vohis divellor! quam difficile jam alienas cogitationes 
 admitto ! Cras Italiam, postridie Germaniam cogitem, 
 hodie vestra soli recordationi dejixus hnmorahor ; a vohis 
 auspicatus sum, in vohis desinam. Suo prcesidio Coeleste 
 Numen vos protegat, inque sinus vestros coinam, concor- 
 diam, virtutem, sapientiam liberaliter infundat. Valete. 
 
 By another letter,* dispatched from Constantinople, we 
 learn that Barrow, after residing a few months in Paris, 
 proceeded through the south of France to Genoa, and from 
 thence to Florence, where he made good use of the liberty 
 granted him of reading in the Grand Duke's library, and 
 of inspecting 10,000 medals, which were under the care 
 of Mr. Fitton, a learned Englishman, who had been invited 
 by his Highness to take charge of the collection. 
 
 But whilst he was thus eagerly employed in the pursuit 
 of knowlege, he became so straitened in pecuniary re- 
 sources, that he must have returned instantly to England, 
 had he not been relieved from this embarrassment by Mr. 
 Stock,t a young merchant of London, who generously sup- 
 plied him with money to prosecute his travels. 
 
 From visiting Rome, the great object of his ardent cu- 
 riosity, he was deterred by news of the plague having 
 burst out at Naples, and which, as he had anticipated, 
 soon reached the Eternal City. In the perplexity caused 
 by this circumstance, he heard of an English vessel bound 
 
 * This epistle is not published in Barrow's Opuscula, but is in- 
 serted in the Appendix to Ward's Lives of tlje Gresham Pro- 
 fessors. 
 
 t To this gentleman be afterwards dedicated his edition of 
 Euclid's Da(a.
 
 xl BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 for Constantinople, in the port of Leghorn, whither he im- 
 mediately repaired, and set sail for the ancient capital of 
 the east. 
 
 The ship in which he now embarked, and which was very 
 superior to that in which he left the shores of England, soon 
 encountered a rough gale, the ludicrous effects of which 
 on the passengers at their dinner-table are well described in 
 a copy of elegiacs inserted among his Opuscula. 
 
 He next touches on the beautiful countries by which 
 they coasted : but an attack made on them in the Ionian 
 Sea, by an Algerine corsair, forms a long episode in this 
 poetic strain. The barbarian ran up boldly and grappled 
 with their vessel, but met with so stout a resistance, 
 that after a desperate and long struggle he was glad to 
 sheer off, and leave them to pursue their voyage as con- 
 querors. 
 
 Nee tamen erigimus ventis afflanda secundis 
 Carbasa suspeusa; pallida signa fugae. 
 
 Barrow exhibited great intrepidity in this engagement ; 
 proving that, although his quarrelsome propensities had 
 ceased, his courage did not fail him. Dreading, as he ob- 
 serves, nothing more than slavery, the most terrible pro- 
 spect for a noble mind, he stuck manfully to his gun, and 
 contributed, no less by his efforts than his example, to the 
 admirable resistance made by the brave captain and his 
 crew. Dr. Pope relates, that when he asked him the 
 question, why he did not go down into the hold, and leave 
 the defence of the ship to those whom it concerned, his 
 reply was ; "'it concerned no one more than myself. I 
 would rather have lost my life than have fallen into the 
 hands of those merciless infidels" Hence there can be no
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. xli 
 
 doubt but that his energetic lines to Liberty came warm 
 from the heart : 
 
 Nos nrit jusfnm decus, indignatio piingit 
 Nobilis, et patriae gloria sancta rapit ; 
 
 Almaqiie Lihertas vitaii charior aura : 
 
 Libertas! bullit cor, aniumsque tumet ; &c. 
 
 In prosecuting this strain, and enumerating all the evils 
 which he would rather undergo than fall into the hands of 
 the barbarians, he mentions poverty ; poverty worse even 
 than what he then bore — 
 
 paupertas durior ilia 
 
 Quam fero. 
 
 And it is no slight proof of the spirit, good conduct, and 
 resources of this extraordinary man, that he was able, with 
 such limited means, to visit so many distant countries, and 
 in such times. 
 
 After the interruption occasioned by this engagement, 
 they pursue their course near to the little island of Cerigo, 
 which gives the poet an opportunity of adverting to the 
 ancient opulence and glory of Peloponnesus : they refit 
 their shattered vessel at Milo, and thence sailing through 
 the Cyclades, of which the beautiful and now wretched 
 Isle of Scio is selected for a particular description, 
 
 Ubertate soli reliquas cuKuque sorores, 
 ^dibus, ingenio, moribus exsuperans ; 
 
 they arrive at Smyrna, where our traveller experiences a 
 very hospitable reception from Mr. Spencer Bretton, the 
 English consul, whose excellent endowments both of mind 
 and body he celebrates not only in the present elegy, but 
 in an epitaph composed at his death. It would seem from
 
 xlii BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 Barrow's account, that many relics of antiquity, which then 
 threw an interest over this great commercial city, have 
 since perished. 
 
 Nunc quoque magnificae jactas inonuraenta ruinae, 
 
 Splendoris testes relliquiasqiie tui ; 
 Saxorum cumulos, iiiscriptaque marmora claris 
 
 Priscoium titulis, uominibusque ducum; &c. 
 
 No Grecian city at present exhibits so few remains of 
 ancient art ! 
 
 On the eighth day they again set sail, when a poetical 
 contribution is levied on the islands in the northern part of 
 the JEgean, on the shores of Troy, the Hellespont, Pro- 
 pontis, and Bosporus, until at length the imperial seat of 
 the eastern Caesars, usurped by Ottoman barbarians, comes 
 full into view. 
 
 attollunt septem fastigia turres, 
 
 Et patet urbs longae meta statuta* viae. 
 
 At Constantinople Barrow met with a cordial reception 
 from the English ambassador. Sir Thomas Beudish, and 
 from one of the principal merchants. Sir Jonathan Dawes ; 
 with whom he afterwards kept up an intimate friendship 
 and correspondence. He did not however forget his col- 
 lege, to the members of which he sent a long letter, to- 
 gether with a copy of hexameters, consisting of near a 
 thousand verses, (though it is but a fragment,) on the reli- 
 gion of the Turks. 
 
 * It seems extraordinary that Barrow's own ear, certainly not an 
 unmusical one, did not lead him to select the word petila in this 
 passage; though the rule of prosody, forbidding a short vowel to re- 
 main so before s and another consonant, seems to have been totally 
 unknown to bini, as he violates it in a thousand instances.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. xliii 
 
 In this letter he expresses great fear lest his friends 
 should blame his long silence, declaring that, on his arrival 
 at the eastern capital, his principal consideration was to 
 determine what subject seemed most important, and how he 
 might best pay the debt which he owed to his college. Ac- 
 cordingly he had essayed to throw into elegiacs the adven- 
 tures of his voyage; and after a short breathing-time, had 
 attempted to versify the information which he had collected 
 concerning the manners and religion of the people among 
 whom he was sojourning. It appears, however, that this 
 was not his sole employment, since we find in his Opuscula 
 an epitome of the Mahometan tenets in Latin ; a treatise 
 on the superstition of the Turks, in English ; translated 
 lists of Turkish words, of Turkish proverbs, of the offi- 
 cers of the seraglio, and those of the empire ; together with 
 an English version of a curious history written by Albert 
 Bobovius, musician of the seraglio, relating to a conspi- 
 racy in the harem, and the death of the old sultana, grand- 
 mother of the reigning emperor. Nor did his labors end 
 here : being now in the ancient see of St. Chrysostom, and 
 animated by the religio loci, he diligently perused the whole 
 writings of that most eloquent of the Fathers ; whence pro- 
 bably he imbibed a portion of the noble eloquence which 
 pervades those discourses with which he has enriched our 
 literature, and advanced the interests of religion : so true 
 is the opinion of Longinus, that the sublime itself may be 
 propagated, and a kindred soul catch inspiration from the 
 genius of some mighty predecessor. 
 
 Barrow next describes to his correspondents the political 
 state of the Ottoman empire ; and as he had already drawn 
 a portrait of the French minister, he now with equal ability 
 delineates the character of the Vizir Azem, or prime
 
 xliv BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OP 
 
 minister of Turkey, then acting as viceroy under the 
 reigning Sultan Mahomet IV. who had ascended the 
 throne very young in 1649, after his father, the imbecile 
 Ibrahim, had been strangled by the rebellious Janizaries. 
 This vizir he describes as a man of uncommon energy, 
 though almost a septuagenarian : he had been raised, as is 
 not unusual in Turkey, from a very low station to the 
 second place in the empiie ; and in the space of two 
 years had, by his wise counsels and great achievements, 
 restored the Ottoman throne to its pristine strength and 
 glory. At this time he had persuaded the Sultan to move 
 his head-quarters to Adrianople, in order to carry on war 
 with greater vigor and alacrity against the kingdom of 
 Transylvania. Barrow, having previously enumerated his 
 conquests, deprecates the storm which seems to hang over 
 Christendom, and rejoices in the diversion which is likely 
 to be made by the great rebellion of Hassan Pasha of 
 Aleppo, who is up in arms with a vast army, demanding, 
 together with many other reforms, the heads of his ene- 
 mies the vizir and mufti, from whose machinations he had 
 himself narrowly escaped. 
 
 With regard to the Greek subjects of the Porte, it is 
 said that nothing new had happened since the execution of 
 their patriarch in the preceding year; an event which 
 bears a curious resemblance to that act of fierce fanaticism 
 which has occurred in our own days. 
 
 Parthenius, like his late unfortunate successor, was 
 considered one of the best men who for a long time had 
 occupied the patriarchal throne ; but he was accused of 
 holding correspondence with the Czar of Muscovy, of 
 whom the Turks were extremely jealous, whilst the Greeks 
 looked up to him as the supporter of their religion, and
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. xlv 
 
 the expected avenger of their bitter servitude. Very few 
 people considered the patriarch guilty of this crime, but 
 rather thought that it had been forged against him by 
 some persons anxious to supplant him in his high office ; 
 since the ambition of the Greek priesthood is excessive 
 even in their abject state. The vizir however, without 
 paying any attention to the circumstances of the case, but 
 rather wishing for an example to deter others from holding 
 communication with enemies of the Mahometan faith, 
 ordered the unfortunate prelate to be brought instantly 
 into a public part of the city, where he was hanged up in 
 his pontifical robes, and exposed for two days to public 
 view. 
 
 The absurdities of the Greek religion are intentionally 
 passed over by our traveller ; but he notices that gay and 
 festive disposition, which seems to have characterized the 
 nation in all ages. He remarks that their festivals are the 
 only religious ordinances which they observe with alacrity ; 
 and under the pressure of a most cruel slavery they retain 
 a cheerful disposition : they sing ; they dance ; in a word, 
 they play the Greek intirely. 
 
 At the conclusion of this interesting letter be pleads 
 several excuses for having absented himself more than 
 three years from his college ; but soon afterwards, when he 
 had disposed his affairs properly for his return, he pro- 
 ceeded by sea to Venice, where as soon as he had landed, 
 the ship took fire, and was consumed with all its cargo. 
 Whether Barrow kept any journal of his tour, besides 
 the letters written to his college, we have no means to de- 
 termine : if he did, we probably owe the loss of it to this 
 conflagration ; nor will that loss appear inconsiderable to 
 him who rightly estimates the man, his native talents, his
 
 xlvi BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 zeal for kuowlege, his keen perception of physical and mo- 
 ral beauty. He was no pedant, who pored into the dark 
 recesses of antiquity until his eyes became blinded with 
 its dust; but in him wisdom and learning were united, 
 and enthusiasm was tempered with judgment : with such 
 a guide therefore it would have been delightful to have 
 retraced at greater length scenes of departed grandeur or 
 of present prosperity, to have imbibed instruction from his 
 reflexions on ages past, or from his remarks on ihe arts, 
 literature, and manners of his own day. 
 
 Such loss however must after all be a source only of 
 imaginary regret : we may feel real disappointment that 
 the letters which he actually wrote were not composed in 
 his own language. Excellent as they are, it can scarcely 
 be doubted but that his narrative would have been at once 
 more animated and comprehensive, had he rejected the 
 Latin garb in which he has dressed it. It is impossible 
 for a dead language to give that nice shade and color and 
 effect to description, which genius loves to cast around it. 
 There are many things which it cannot express through a 
 defect of phraseology ; and it is always accompanied by a 
 certain labor of compilation which cramps the imagination, 
 and indisposes the mind to the exertion of its faculties. In 
 rejecting therefore his native tongue, Barrow acted like 
 an enchanter, who should cast away his magic wand, when 
 he would invest a scene with beauties not its own. Above 
 all we may lament the taste which led him to compose 
 elegiacs and hexameters, when he might, perhaps in higher 
 and in holier strains, have anticipated that genius who 
 in after ages departed from the same walls, traversed the 
 same realms, and described the same scenes in those splen- 
 did stanzas which are his best passport to immortality:.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. xlvii 
 
 The fault however was more that of the age than of the 
 man. Milton himself fell into it, though he soon saw the 
 propriety of stripping the stiff unpliant drapery of antiquity 
 from off his young and beauteous muse. Admirable as 
 his Latin poems are, who would save them all at the ex- 
 pense even of Lycidas, to say nothing of the inimitable 
 Comus ? Barrow however made ample amends for neg- 
 lecting such poetic strains by the noble prose with which 
 he has enriched our literature. 
 
 Having left Venice, he made the tour of Germany and 
 Holland ; returning to England, as he proposed, in 1659. 
 The period being now arrived when the fellows of Trinity 
 3re obliged by their statutes to take holy orders, or to quit 
 the college,* Barrow procured episcopal ordination from 
 Bishop Brownrigg, and soon after the Restoration, in 1660, 
 he was elected without competition to the Greek pro- 
 fessorship, on the resignation of Mr. Widdrington. This 
 appointment was earnestly recommended by Duport, who 
 had greater pleasure in promoting the fortunes of this 
 promising and favorite pupil, than in re-occupying a chair 
 of which he had been unjustly deprived. In the inaugural 
 oration made by the new professor on this occasion, he 
 takes occasion to celebrate the most illustrious among his 
 predecessors ; Erasmus, Sir Thomas Smith, Sir John 
 Cheke, Downes, and Creighton ; whilst he speaks of 
 Widdrington himself in a manner that may lead us to 
 suppose him not unqualified for the ofKces to which par- 
 liamentary interest alone seemed to have raised him. But 
 in describing his beloved tutor's character, disposition, and 
 accomplishments, Barrow's genius seems to revel with 
 
 • Seven years after tlie degree of A.IM.
 
 Xlviii BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 delight ; particularly when he contrasts that amiable per- 
 son's small stature with his gigantic acquirements, in so 
 playful and ingenious a manner, that I should deservedly 
 incur the learned reader's reproaches if I did not give him 
 an opportunity of perusing it in the margin.* 
 
 * Illustre vero agmen claudat baud postremus merito, quin ausim 
 dicere primus, ut qui nemo banc catliedram aut tenuit tamdiu, aat 
 tantopere decoravit, milii perpetuo obsequio colendus, nee vobis 
 minus omni bonore suspiciendus, vir optimus, el oculorum licet 
 judicio rcnuenti, etiam maximus Duportus. Exiguo quippe cortice 
 obvolntus omnigenae eruditionis nucleus, angusta capsula inclusus 
 ingens tbesaurus literarius ; volumine parvo comprebensum quof quot 
 sunt linguarum, artium et scienliarum compendium ; tot Erasmorum, 
 Budaeorum, Stepbanorum accurata epitome ; cujus in modico corpore 
 immensus animus habitat,giganteum versaturingenium,omDesAthe- 
 nae hospitanlur, tota quanta quanta est Graecia di versatur : qui a nostra 
 plerorumque ultima memoria Atlantem agens Graecarum literarum 
 Academia? decus bumeris non niagnis adeo quam validis sustentavit, 
 etvclut Stella mole arcta, virtute diffusissima lucidissimis radiis uni- 
 versum mundum circumfulsit; a quo babetAnglia nostra, ne aliisgen- 
 tibus literarum gloria cedat, nee suos Gallia; Scaligeros, Salmasios, 
 Patavios,suosveBelgioHeinsios, Grotios,Vossiosquodinvideat. Quis 
 enim Graecas literas perspexit intimius? quis Latinas extulit purius 
 vel copiosius? quis po'eticam facultatem felicius coluit, et coelestis 
 Musae diviniores raptus heroici carminis majestate propius adaequa- 
 vit? quis tot unquam orationes babuit concinnas, lepidas, eruditas? 
 aut dum tot annos, imo tot lustra, juventutem Academicam insti- 
 tuit, adeo grammaticam austeritatem critica varietate condivit, rbe- 
 torica venustate expolivit, amoena urbanitate temperavit ? Quis 
 denique tam fideli opera, tam indefesso labore, tarn assidua dili- 
 gentia, susceptam provinciam administravit, adeoquidem ut succes- 
 soribus suis tam insigne exemplar sequi difficile fecerit, assequendi 
 vero spem omnem pra3ciderit, et ademcrit potestatem? At quid e^o 
 loquacis linguae insulsa temeritate tantas dotes niinuo, tantis virta- 
 tibus detero, tanta merita obfusco, quae (nisi loci bujus et temporis 
 ratio silentium damnaret, nisi illius in vos magna merita, in literas
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. 
 
 xlix 
 
 As Barrow began by praising the modern professors of 
 Greek literature, he concludes with an eulogy on the 
 ancient authors of it ; commenting also on the obligations 
 due from the Latin writers to that ingenious people, " who 
 took captive the fierce conqueror, and introduced arts into 
 rustic Latium." The only part of his speech derogatory to 
 good taste, is that where he seeks unduly to depreciate his 
 own merits, when justly intitled to that honest pride 
 which is due to high deserts. Yet did we not know the 
 depth and extent of Barrow's acquirements, we might be 
 disposed ftven to credit his assertions on this head, when 
 we find him soon afterwards complaining in the very same 
 schools, that they had been utterly deserted, and his 
 lectures given to empty benches. " There I sat," says he, 
 " in the professorial chair, like Prometheus afiixed to his 
 solitary rock, or muttering Greek sentences to the naked 
 walls, like an A.ttic owl driven out from the society of all 
 the other birds in the air."* He next hints at the author 
 
 eximia, in meipsiim infinita, etiam invito milii verba exforsissent,) 
 satius erat tacita admiratione fuisse veneratum? Quin vos evolvite 
 scrip(a, recolite dicta, qufe autores interpretanti, elucidanti, confe- 
 renti, quae praelegenti, et peroranti exciderunt, in memoriam revo- 
 cate, ut ex profectu vestro magis discatis qnatn ab elogio meo tan- 
 tum virum aestimare, cui similem professorem multa vobis non 
 dabunt, parem paucissima invenient, majorem nulla uuquam saecula 
 parient, nulla pepererunt. 
 
 * Apassageinalelterof Archbishop Sancroft, when master of Ema- 
 nuel Coll., dated Jan. 17th, 1663, will give us some idea of the low 
 state of the lillerce humaniores about this time. " It would grieve you" 
 (says he) "to hear of our public examinations; the Hebrew and 
 Greek learning being out of fashion every where, and especially in 
 the other colleges, where we are forced to seek, our candidates for 
 fellowships."— D'Oyly's Life of Sancroft, vol. i. p. 128.
 
 i BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 whom he had selected for explanation by observing, " that 
 he and his Sophocles had acted with an empty orchestra : 
 that the poet could not procure a tritagonistes, nor a 
 chorus ; no, not even one of boys : that there was not a 
 single person to accompany the singers, to applaud the 
 dancers, or to interrupt the speakers ; that if by chance a 
 straggling freshman, or a shipwrecked soph was driven by 
 wind or tide on those desert shores, he peeped in per- 
 haps, but when he heard three words of tragic sound, he 
 took instantly to his heels and ran away as from the cave of 
 Polyphemus, even as if he were about to be devoured by a 
 barbarous Greek."* This may serve to give the reader 
 some idea of the state of learning at this time in the junior 
 part of the university, as well as of the sarcastic style of 
 this speech, which is called an oratio sarcasmica, and is 
 on many accounts worthy of attentive perusal. In a pas- 
 sage of great beauty, he states the reasons which prompted 
 him to select the tragedies of Sophocles for the subject of 
 his lectures, and dilates on the superior excellence of that 
 dramatic poet, whilst with great energy and severe sarcasm 
 he investigates the causes that could produce so much 
 apathy in a dissolute and degenerate age. The next 
 question is ; whom shall he substitute for the forsaken 
 Sophocles? This gives him an opportunity of briefly 
 characterising the most esteemed Greek authors, and of 
 fixing on the great Stagyrite, who then held the literary 
 world in chains, and who was probably at that time neces- 
 sary for obtaining a degree. Superest, ut in umim Ari- 
 stotelem spes nostrce, velut in sacram ancJioram, reclinent ; 
 ut ad Lycdum, ceu ad arceni Sophies munitissimam, port um 
 
 * Our laiigua^^fe here fails in expressing tlie worils, " barbaro 
 Graculo."
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. li 
 
 studii certisshnum, sanctissimam arani discipline, confu" 
 giamus. Accordingly he proposes to explain his exoteric 
 writings, and to begin with his rhetoric. Mr. A. Hill 
 informs us that some friend, that is to himself, borrowed 
 these Aristotelian lectures, and forgot to restore them. 
 
 Barrow's friends hoped that he would have been ad- 
 vanced to preferment by the government soon after the 
 Restoration. It seems also that he himself considered such 
 a distinction due to the sacrifices made by his family, and 
 to his own loyalty ; for the following distich, which he 
 made on his disappointed hopes, is recorded, though not 
 inserted in his Opuscula:* 
 
 Te tnagis optavit rediturum, Carole, nemo ; 
 Et sensit nemo te rediissc minus. 
 
 In 1661 he proceeded to the degree of Bachelor in 
 Divinity, with three others of his college ; and to this 
 period, in all probability, the excellent Oratio ad Clerum, 
 or Latin sermon, published in his Opuscula, must be re- 
 ferred. In July next year he was elected Gresham Pro- 
 sessor of geometry, principally at the recommendation of 
 Dr. Wilkins, who was then master of Trinity, and after- 
 wards Bishop of Chester. In a Latin oration, delivered 
 before his lectures, after passing a splendid but just enco- 
 mium on Sir Thomas Gresham, founder of the college, he 
 proceeds to eulogise in a very handsome manner several of 
 its professors, dwelling particularly on the great Sir Christo- 
 
 * He had written an Alcaic ode of 65 stanzas on the king's return, 
 which, besides exliibiting the general inaccuracies of that age in 
 metrical rhythm and nicety of construction, betrays bad taste in the 
 unconscionable length to which it is spun out.
 
 Hi BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 pher Wren* among the living, and his own amiable and 
 learned predecessor, Mr. Lav/reuce Bcoke, among the 
 departed. In this same year he wrote an epithalamium in 
 Greek verse on the marriage of King Charles and Queen 
 Catherine ; moreover, he refused a living of considerable 
 value, because the condition annexed to it, of teaching the 
 patron's son, had too much the appearance of a simoniacal 
 contract. Whilst he continued at Gresham College, he 
 not only discharged the duty of his own professorship with 
 great diligence and universal approbation, but supplied 
 the place of Dr. Pope in the astronomical chair during 
 that gentleman's absence abroad. Among his lectures, 
 were some on the projection of the sphere, and, as Mr. 
 Sherburne says,f prepared for the press ; but these also, 
 having been lent to a friend, could never afterwards be 
 recovered. 
 
 On the 20th of May, 1663, he was elected Fellow of the 
 Royal Society, in the first choice made by the Council after 
 the grant of their charter ; and on the 15th of July fol- 
 lowing, when his excellent uncle was appointed Bishop of 
 Sodor and Man, he preached the consecration sermon in 
 King Henry the Seventh's Chapel. In this same year also 
 the executors of Mr. Henry Lucas,t who had been M. P. 
 for the university, proceeded, according to the directions 
 of his will, to found a mathematical professorship at Cam- 
 bridge ; and Barrow obtained the first nomination to this 
 
 • He styles him *^ prvdigium olmi pueri, nunc miracnlum viri, imo 
 dcemonium hominis." He seems to have always entertained a respect 
 and friendship for this great man, to whom he addresses an epigram 
 preserved in his Opuscula, 
 
 t Appendix to Manilius, p. 112. 
 
 X Mr. Robert Raworth and Mr. 'liios. Buck.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. lui 
 
 chair at the instance of his staunch and zealous friend Dr. 
 Wilkins. On the 14th of March, 16G4, he made his in- 
 augural speech in the public schools, wherein, after due 
 tribute of praise paid to the founder of the professorship 
 and his executors, he turns to his own case, and apologizes 
 for having deserted the Greek and gone over to the Mathe- 
 matical schools. All who are acquainted with Barrow's 
 literary labors, must feel considerable surprise at the de- 
 claration, that although he never was altogether averse to 
 philological pursuits, yet the whole bent of his mind, and 
 his ardent affections, always lay towards philosophy :* th3 
 study of this he terms a sei'ious investigation of things, 
 whilst he considers literature, in comparison with it, merely 
 as a childish hunting after words. He expresses therefore 
 great delight in marching, as we might say, out of the tread- 
 mill of grammar {^ grammatico pistrino) into the open 
 palaestra of mathematical science ; yet though he has thus 
 emancipated himself from his literary fetters by this ex- 
 change of office, he professes a most ardent attachment to his 
 university, as a place on which kings might look with envy ; 
 as a place where he anxiously desires to spend his days, 
 and from which nothing but extreme necessity shall ever 
 separate him. Indeed about this time, having resigned his 
 charge of the Cottonian library, which he held on trial for 
 a few months, and having also given up his chair at Gresham 
 College, he retired to Cambridge, and there fixed his resi- 
 dence for the remainder of his life. 
 
 With regard to Barrow's sentiments on the subject of 
 
 • "Etenim sicuti nunquam a pliilologia piorsus abhorruerim, ita 
 (ne (lissimulem) philosophiam semper inipctisiiis adaiuavi ; ut vo- 
 cularum liidicrum aiicupium moruse non despiciam, ita seriatn 
 rerum indaginem magis cordicitiis complector;" &c.
 
 liv BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 classical and mathematical pursuits, though there can be 
 little doubt but that his predilections lay towards the latter, 
 yet we must allow some latitude to his expressions, when 
 we consider not only the apologetic nature of his speech, 
 and the mode of lecturing in those days, which must have 
 been much more irksome than at present from its neces- 
 sary adaptation to a very juvenile audience ; but the pro- 
 bable application of them to verbal criticism, a study pur- 
 sued with very little zeal or success at that time, though 
 carried to a high degree of perfection by succeeding scho- 
 lars, with the great Bentley at their head. This species 
 of knowlege, useful not only as the pioneer of literature, 
 but as a great strengthener of the reasoning powers, Bar- 
 row did not possess ; but he had a great, an almost unli- 
 mited acquaintance with the best classical authors, and the 
 most esteemed fathers of the church : nor could he ever 
 have meant to despise or undervalue those admirable 
 sources whence he drew such constant and pure streams of 
 eloquence and wisdom.* 
 
 In 1699 he composed his able expositions of the Creed, 
 the Lord's Prayer, the Decalogue, and the Sacraments, 
 probably as exercises for a college preachership ; and these, 
 he observes, f so took up his thoughts, that he could not 
 easily apply them to any other matter : yet in this same 
 year he published his Lectures on Optics, which he dedi- 
 cated to the executors of Mr. Lucas, as the first-fruits of 
 
 * This appears evident from one of his addresses to the academic 
 youth : " Neque demum linguas negligatis licet, scientianim claves 
 et eruditionis vestibula; sine qiiibus ipsi nee doctos intelligere, nee 
 indoctos potestis erudire, et sapientia vobis vel nulla vei infans sit 
 oportet." — Opusc. p. 349. 
 
 t See note in Ward's Lives, &c. p. 161.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. .Iv 
 
 their Institution. These lectures, says Dr. Ward,* being 
 sent to the learned Mr. James Gregorie, professor of ma- 
 thematics at St. Andrew's, and perused by him, he gives 
 the following character of the author in a letter to Mr. 
 John Collins. " Mr. Barrow in his Oj)tics showeth him- 
 self a most subtil geometer, so that I think him superior 
 to any that ever I looked on. I long exceedingly to see 
 his geometrical lectures, especially because I have some 
 notions on that same subject by mee. I entreat you to send 
 them to mee presently, as they come from the presse, for 
 I esteem the author more than yee can easilie imagine." 
 Nor were Barrow's mathematical abilities undervalued by 
 that rare genius who so soon eclipsed them : for in one 
 of his letters to Mr. John Collins, dated July 13, I672,f 
 Newton observes, in allusion probably to these geome- 
 trical lectures; " nor is your mathematical intelligence 
 less grateful ; for I am very glad that Dr. Barrow's 
 book is abroad." Yet when this learned work, which was 
 published in 1670, had been sometime before the world, 
 and Barrow heard only of two persons who had read it 
 through, viz. Mr. Slusius of Liege, and Mr. Gregory 
 of Scotland, (though these two, says Mr. Hill, might be 
 reckoned instead of thousands,) the little relish such things 
 then met with, helped to loose him altogether from those 
 speculations, and direct his attention more exclusively to 
 theological studies. To these indeed his genius evidently 
 tended, even perhaps when hehimself was least aware of it ;J 
 
 * Lives of Gresharn Professors, p. 161. 
 t See Nichols's Illustrations of Literature, vol, iv. p. 46. 
 I "The study of morality and divinity" (says Mr. A. Hill) "had 
 always been so predominant with him, that when he commented on
 
 hi BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 to these the whole texture of his mind was subservient ; 
 nnd in this point of view we may admire the disposal of 
 him by providence. 
 
 Never probably was religion at a lower ebb in the Bri- 
 tish dominions than when that profligate prince Charles II. 
 who sat unawed on a throne formed, as it were, out of his 
 father's scaffold, found the people so wearied of purita- 
 nical hypocrisy, presbyterian mortifications, and a thousand 
 forms of unintelligible mysticism, that they were ready to 
 plunge into the opposite vices of scepticism or infidelity, 
 and to regard with complacency the dissolute morals of 
 himself and his vile associates.* To denounce this wicked- 
 ness in the most awful terms ; to strike at guilt with fear- 
 less aim, whether exalted on high places, or lurking in 
 obscure retreats ; to delineate the native horrors and sad 
 effects of vice ; to develope the charms of virtue, and to 
 inspire a love of it in the human heart ; in short, to assist 
 in building up the fallen buttresses and broken pillars of 
 God's church on earth, was the high and holy task to 
 which Barrow was called. In order, however, that he 
 might collect his stupendous powers for the uninterrupted 
 prosecution of it, he resigned his mathematical chair to 
 that great luminary of science whose glory has never 
 been obscured : next indeed to the credit which Isaac 
 
 Archimedes, he could not forbear to prefer and admire much more 
 Suarez for his book de Legibm ; and before his ApoUonius I find 
 written this divine ejaculation, 'O 0ebs yewixerpel' Tu autem, Domine, 
 quantus es geometra!" &c. 
 
 * The picture is drawn very vividly in many of Barrow's sermons, 
 and in his Latin speeches delivered before the university. See in 
 particular his oration atapublic commencement : OpuscuIa,p. 343.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. IVii 
 
 Barrow derives from the exertion of his own vast powers 
 in the augmentation of scientific philosophy, is that which 
 is due to him for his early notice of Isaac Newton ;* to 
 whom he was the constant patron and the friend, as well 
 as the precursor. 
 
 Since Barrow may be looked on as the promoter of a great 
 alteration in the course of studies pursued at Cambridge, 
 a concise account of those studies previous to his time, will 
 perhaps not be thought out of place here. 
 
 This university, like its sister establishment, was at its 
 first institution little more than a large school of ecclesias- 
 tics, where the rudiments of grammar and of such science 
 as was then in vogue, were taught, long before the inven- 
 tion of printing, or the blessings of the Reformation had 
 supplied means of useful knowlege or general instruction. 
 Cambridge is indebted to a few monks, sent by the Abbot 
 of Crowland from his manor of Cottenham, in the be- 
 ginning of the twelfth century, for an advanced state of 
 
 * He was not only tlie first to remark the merit of our great phi- 
 losopher, hut he submitted to his inspection and revision many of 
 his own excellent mathematical works, wrote of him in the highest 
 terms to his learned correspondents, and resigned to him the Luca- 
 sian professorship in Nov. J 669. In a letter to Mr. John Collins, 
 of July 20th, 1669, he acquaints him that a friend of his had brought 
 him some papers, wherein he had set down ^'■methods of calculating 
 the dimensions of magnitudes like that of Mr. Mercator for the hyper- 
 bola, hut very general ; as also of resolving equations ;" which he pro- 
 mises to send him. And accordingly he did so, as appears from 
 another letter dated the .31st of that month. And in a third letter 
 of the 20th of August following he says, "/ am glad tny friend's 
 papers give you so much satisfaction ; his name is Mr. Newton, a fellow 
 of our college, and very young, being but the second year Master of Arts ; 
 but of an extraordinary genius and proficiency in these things.'' — See 
 Ward's Lives, p. 161, note. 
 
 BAR. VOL. I. d
 
 IvMi BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 learning, when the era of its introduction is considered. 
 These professors being " thoroughly furnished," according 
 to the quaint idiom of Fuller, "in philosophy and other pri- 
 mitive sciences," taught publicly in a spacious barn,* until 
 the number of students that came to their lectures ren- 
 dered separate places of tuition necessary. Their plan of 
 study was drawn from the university of Orleans, com- 
 prising grammar and rhetoric on the foundation of Pris- 
 cian, Aristotle, Tully, and Quintilian, with their commen- 
 tators : theology also was expounded both to scholars and 
 to the people on Sundays and festivals ; so that persons 
 flocked to these fountains of literature, thus thrown open, 
 with zeal and numbers proportionate to that abstinence 
 from instruction to which they had been long subjected. 
 
 Such was the primitive state of our academical insti- 
 tutions. Those statutable privileges and liberal endow- 
 ments which now distinguish us, were then unknown ; but 
 the use of an academical habit, as well as the power of con- 
 ferring degrees in the several faculties, may be traced back 
 to the earliest periods. Even after the foundation of col- 
 leges and halls, the strange intermixture of monastic orders 
 with literary bodies, and the early age at which students 
 were admitted at the university, contributed not only to 
 create strife and confusion, but to retard the advancement 
 of science, and to retain the errors of superstitious bigotry. 
 The time allotted to academical studies, before admission 
 to each degree, seems to have been always the same as it 
 is at the present day ; but the duties of university officers 
 
 • This barn is thought still to exist under the appellation of Py- 
 thagoras's school : it belongs to Merton College, Oxford, and has 
 lately been turned into a dwelling-house : the arches of its windows 
 are those of the early Norman style.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. lit 
 
 appear to have undergone considerable alterations. Ac- 
 cording to the old statutes, three public lecturers were ap- 
 pointed by the senate to impart that instruction which the 
 youth now receive from their college tutors. These lec- 
 turers were selected annually from the Regent Masters of 
 Arts, to read publicly in the schools, to the students of the 
 first and second years, humanity ; to those of the second 
 year, dialectics also, or logic ; to those of the third, con- 
 jointly with the incepting bachelors of arts, philosophy/ : 
 and for this office each reader received a stipend of £l.6s. Sd. 
 The times and manner of the disputations, &c. were regu- 
 lated by the proctors. 
 
 The university studies, however, did not then, as now, 
 cease with the degree of A.B. No person was admitted 
 to that of A.M. unless he had attended public lectures, for 
 three years after hisdetermination, in Aristotle's philosophy, 
 and had kept his regular acts and opponencies in the 
 schools. Lectures also in theology, together with disputa- 
 tions, and sermons both in English and Latin, were indis- 
 pensible for the superior degrees of B.D. and D.D. By one 
 of the old statutes, we learn that a bachelor of arts was per- 
 mitted to incept in grammar, if he had duly attended gram- 
 matical lectures in the works of Priscian, had performed 
 certain exercises, and been examined by three masters of 
 arts. After these ceremonies, and an affidavit made that 
 he would attend additional lectures in Priscian for the space 
 of one year, he was presented for admission to the proctors 
 by the Magister Grammaticae, or, in his absence, by the 
 Magister Glomerite, an official personage who is a crux to 
 antiquarians. 
 
 Some time before the Reformation, when the ordinary 
 studies of the place began to fall into neglect, a new ordi-
 
 Ix BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 nance was introduced into the statute book,*' for the 
 appointment of a course of lectures, to which all students 
 were admitted, but which all Bachelors of Arts were 
 obliged to attend : their subjects were, for the first year 
 arithmetic and music ; for the second, geometry and per- 
 spective ; and for the third, astronomy. A grace also was 
 passed in 1528 for substituting grammar in the place of 
 philosophy, at the public disputations held every Friday 
 during term. 
 
 Al this time also a barbarous Latin jargon was the ve- 
 hicle of written, and in great measure of oral instruction 
 also, being spoken in public assemblies, in the schools, in 
 the senate-house, and even in private colleges. The high- 
 est aim of mathematical knowlege was the investigation of 
 unprofitable secrets, and the cultivation of judicial astro- 
 logy: even Aristotle himself, that idol of scholastic dispu- 
 tants, was studied only through the mist of his translators 
 and commentators, the number of whom became multiplied 
 to such a degree, that Patricius reckons up near 12,000 
 about the end of the 16th century. 
 
 Such was the general state of learning in our univer- 
 sities, when the blessed light of the Reformation burst 
 through the gloom which hung over the avenues of real 
 knowlege. That great event was accompanied by the 
 revival of a purer literature, which was quickly established 
 by a phalanx of scholars at Cambridge ; and then the ab- 
 surdities of that scholastic theology, which had so long 
 enslaved the intellect of mankind, were successfully com- 
 bated ; the best authors of Greece and Rome were taught 
 and illustrated by critical and philological erudition ; whilst 
 
 * See Statuta Antiq. p. 65.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. Ixii 
 
 the archives of Christianity were purified under their 
 auspices, and truth was re-instated on the throne of her 
 supremacy. From the dawn of science in the reign of 
 Henry VIII., the day-spring of knowlege brightened 
 throughout that of his son and successor. At the acces- 
 sion of Queen Mary indeed, ignorance and superstition for 
 a time resumed their sway, and many of the great restorers 
 of learning felt the severity of that fate which threw them 
 on times, when literature rose or fell with court factions, 
 or changed according to the disposition of princes and the 
 alteration of religion. 
 
 True religion however, and knowlege, its best companion, 
 revived with fresh lustre under the auspices of Eliza- 
 beth and the direction of her sage counsellor Burleigh, a 
 statesman who had happily imbibed excellent principles 
 during his residence at St. John's College ; a seminary 
 which about this time acquired that distinguished reputa- 
 tion for theological attainments which it has so nobly sup- 
 ported through succeeding generations.^' 
 
 In that happy era, the statutes which prevail at this day 
 in the university, were, after diligent revisions and amend- 
 ments, finally established. We may pass over that part 
 of them which relates to its incorporation, as our business 
 is with those alone which relate to the advancement of a 
 learned and religious education. These weighty interests 
 indeed had been very successfully attended to in the sta- 
 tutes of Henry VIII. and of his amiable but short-lived 
 successor ; wherein we find that the theological professor 
 
 * Barrow alludes to this well-deserved fame of his rival college, 
 when speaking of Mr. II. Lucas, who had been a member of St. 
 John's. See Opnsc. p. 79.
 
 Ixii BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 was ordered to read publicly the scriptures only ; the phi- 
 losophical lecturer was confined to the prohlemata, mo- 
 ralia, or politica of Aristotle, to Pliny, and to Plato : the 
 arithmetic of Tunstall and Cardan, together with Euclid's 
 geometry, was selected for the professor of mathematics : 
 the elenchi of Aristotle, the topica of Cicero, and the works 
 of Quintilian, for the reader in rhetoric and logic ; whilst 
 the Greek professor was obliged to expound the writings 
 of Homer, Demosthenes, Isocrates, Euripides, or any other 
 of the purest classical authors. The order of study pre- 
 scribed to the students was as follows : 
 
 To the first year arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and 
 geography : to the second, logic ; and to the third and 
 fourth, philosophy. During this course, each candidate 
 for the degree of A.B. was obliged to keep two opponen- 
 cies and two acts in the public schools, as well as to under- 
 go the customary examination. 
 
 An extended progress in the above named sciences, to- 
 gether with public disputations, as well as an assiduous at- 
 tendance on those held by Masters of Arts during three 
 years, was exacted from all Bachelors of Arts before they 
 proceeded to their next degree ; neither was the Master 
 who aspired to a higher degree of academical dignity, per- 
 mitted to remain idle : he was remanded to the study of 
 theology for the next five years, with a daily attendance 
 on the Hebrew lecture, besides his acts, opponencies, ser- 
 mon, and clerum, which were all demanded before he 
 could take his degree of B.D. If he aimed at the highest 
 Step, that of Doctor in Divinity, (which at this time was 
 held in little less estimation than a patent of nobility,) he 
 was obliged to attend daily the divinity lectures, during 
 four years of probation, besides a variety of other exer-
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. Ixiu 
 
 cises : even after this last degree, post tot naufragia, peri- 
 cula, and examina, (as the old statute book expresses it,) 
 he was under the necessity of preaching a Latin sermon, 
 and of holding an annual disputation in the schools " on 
 some dubious and subtile question," if he resided in the 
 University. 
 
 In the last body of statutes given to the university by 
 Queen Elizabeth, A. D. 1570, the principal alterations 
 therein made relate only to discipline ; none are observ- 
 able in those connected with the studies of the youth, and 
 very few with those of superior standing. The disputa- 
 tions in the Sophs Schools were arranged almost after the 
 same manner in which they now exist, and a Moderator 
 Scholae, together with two Examiners of the Questionists, 
 was appointed ; but a more correct idea may be formed 
 of the method of study pursued at this period, from an 
 extract taken out of a scarce work published at Cambridge, 
 in the year 1769, from a vellum MS. intitled " a projecte 
 contayninge the state, order, and manner of government 
 of the University of Cambridge, as now it is to be seen 
 in the three and fortieth yeare of the Raigne of our Most 
 Gracious and Soveraigne Lady Queen Elizabeth." After 
 a full account of all the officers of the University, we come 
 to the article of " Lecturers for the instruction of the 
 younger sort of scholars, as namely, 
 
 r To read the precepts of Rethoricke 
 One Rethoricke lin one of the common scholes, in such 
 Lecturer. isorte as is fit for younge scholers at 
 V their first coming to the University. 
 
 f" To teach the use of Logicke by publique 
 ° / readeing in the scholes unto such as are of 
 
 /the 2nd and 3rd years continuance.
 
 iXlV BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 r To read a Philosophie Lecture, either 
 
 One Philosophie J of morale, politique, or natural philoso- 
 
 Reader. j phie, unto the Sophisters and Bacchelers 
 
 V of Arte, thereunto resorting by statute. 
 
 - To read the arte of Arithmeticke, 
 
 One Mathematical r^ ^^^"'^^"^' of Cosmograpie, or of 
 T> 1 < Astronomy, in such sort as is fit for 
 
 /his auditory, being also of Sophisters 
 ^ and Bacchelers of Arte." 
 These four lecturers still exist under the title of Bar- 
 naby Lecturers, whose office was no sinecure in the times 
 of which we are treating, although it has now lapsed into 
 the official duties of the college tutor. Similar instruc- 
 tions to those above quoted are given for the direction of 
 Readers in Divinity, Hebrew, Greek, Civil Law, and Me- 
 dicine, instituted by King Henry VIII., and who are 
 called " Lecturers for the increase of knowlege in the 
 more ancient students," as well as the Divinity Reader, and 
 an University Preacher, who is ordered *' to preache at 
 Paule's Cross, and at other places thereunto named and 
 appointed :" both of these offices were founded by Lady 
 Margaret, mother of King Henry VII. Although an evi- 
 dent improvement had now taken place in academical 
 studies and discipline, and although the pursuits of 
 science were, in a great measure, detached from that scho- 
 lastic method which had so long held reason in chains, 
 still there was too much time and labor expended in sub- 
 tile questions and vain disputations, held more for the sake 
 of confuting an antagonist and the gratification of literary 
 vanity, than for the promotion of real knowlege. The 
 greatest philosophers, and the highest characters of the 
 age, frequently indulged in the exercises of this palaestra
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. IxV 
 
 to a most preposterous extent ; instigated no doubt by the 
 applauses which were so lavishly poured on victorious com- 
 batants by admiring contemporaries. Haddon, in a letter 
 to Dr. Cox, speaking of a public disputation held by Sir 
 Thomas Smith at a Cambridge commencement, bursts out 
 into the following rapturous exclamations : " Had he 
 (Dr. Cox) been there, he would have heard another So- 
 crates ; that he caught the forward disputants, as it were, 
 in a net with his questions ; and that he concluded the 
 most profound cases of philosophy with great gravity and 
 deep knowlege." 
 
 At length a higher order of philosophy arose, and the 
 dogmas of the Divine Doctors, and of the Irrefragable 
 Doctors, soon vanished into air. The great Bacon com- 
 menced his academical career about the end of the six- 
 teenth century; his intellect instantly discovered all the 
 imperfections of the reigning Aristotelian system of phi- 
 losophy, together with their causes ; nor did his compre- 
 hensive mind rest till he had effected that change which 
 placed knowlege on the firmest foundations. At a very 
 early age, this extraordinary man was heard to say " that 
 his exceptions against that great philosopher (Aristotle) 
 were founded not on the worthlessness of the author, to 
 whom he would ever ascribe all high attributes, but on the 
 unfruitfulness of the ways, being a philosophy only for dis- 
 putations and contentions, but barren in the production of 
 works for the benefit of the life of man." It was, how- 
 ever, easier for the genius of a Bacon to discover the er- 
 rors of a system, than to remove the prejudices of its sup- 
 porters ; yet the power of truth, as must ever be the case, 
 gradually prevailed ; and about the middle of the seven-
 
 Ixvi BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 teenth century the dogmas of the Aristotelian school gave 
 way to the force of Inductive Philosophy. 
 
 The brightness, however, of this philosophy became 
 again obscured for a time by an undue partiality which the 
 system of Descartes, and his disciple Rohault, obtained ; 
 a system, which, although it corrected some errors, and 
 amended some imperfections, rather dazzled the imagina- 
 tion by subtle hypotheses, than convinced the judgment by 
 careful observation ; which, admitting nothing to be true 
 which was not evident, and referring that evidence to in- 
 ward sensation, established principles dangerous equally to 
 philosophy and religion. Its brilliant but fallacious doc- 
 trines held a most distinguished place in the schools of 
 Europe, until Newton took up, extended and confirmed 
 that more sober and sound method of philosophizing which 
 Bacon had introduced. This immortal man removed at 
 last the crazy superstructure of science from the weak 
 foundation of hypothesis, and raised a more substantial 
 edifice on the solid basis of experiment. Admitting nothing 
 as a principle which could not be established by observa- 
 tion and experience, he drew his propositions from phse- 
 nomena, and rendered them general by induction, enter- 
 taining no hypothesis at all except for the purpose of sub- 
 mitting it to experiment. 
 
 The way had been paved for this great change at Cam- 
 bridge by the establishment of the Lucasian Professorship, 
 A. D. 1GG3, the chair of which, as we have seen, was first 
 dignified by the occupation of Barrow. 
 
 This great man was on all points opposed to the dogmas 
 of the scholastics. Instead of considering, like them, that 
 the soul was the only ^j/ace of ideas, and that thouglit had
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. Ixvii 
 
 no communication with bodily organs, he entertained and 
 openly avowed that opinion which the illustrious Locke 
 expanded into his admirable essay, viz. that all our ideas 
 flow into the mind through the various inlets of the senses. 
 Eoruni enim, qui communiter apparent, effectuum notitia 
 atque historia ultro otiosis et quasi nolentihus se inge- 
 runt, per apertas sensuum fenestras ad animce sedem 
 penetrantes, &c.* And as he opposed the fallacious 
 subleties of logic, so did he endeavor to clear mathe- 
 matical knowlege from the rubbish with which it had been 
 long encumbered, and to form it into a system fit for the 
 instruction of youth : to this end he published very early 
 in his career improved editions of Euclid's Elements and 
 Data; then his own excellent Lectures on Optics and 
 Geometry ; next an edition of the works of Archimedes 
 and some other ancient mathematicians ; and in 1683 the 
 world at large was presented with those admirable Mathe- 
 matical Lectures which he had delivered in the schools as 
 Lucasian Professor,t and from which the era of mathe- 
 matical science in Cambridge may be said to commence.! 
 
 * Opuscula, p. 34. 
 
 t In the years 1664, 1665, 1667. 
 
 t The splendid discoveries indeed of Newton obscured the me- 
 rits of his predecessors, as the blaze of the rising sun extinguishes 
 the glimmering of the stars. From him therefore we are accus- 
 tomed to date the commencement of our mathematical system at 
 Cambridge. But as it has been erroneously supposed that the 
 Newtonian doctrines made their way more rapidly iu other places 
 than in that which gave them birth, it may be worth while to give a 
 little consideration to this point. It is not indeed to be supposed 
 that they could be immediately adopted by the great mass of stu- 
 dents ; yet they were most sedulously propagated by persons quali- 
 lied to judge of their merits ; being illustrated and explained in very
 
 Ixviii BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 The sentiments and instructions of this great philosopher 
 on the subject of philosophy in general, and of mathema- 
 tical science in particular, appear at large in an excellent 
 speech which seems to have been spoken by him at a corn- 
 learned publications, both by Whiston and by Sauuderson, his im- 
 mediate successor in the professorial chair. So early as 1694, the 
 celebrated Dr. Samuel Clarke, then an undergraduate, defended in 
 the schools a question taken from Newton's Philosophy, and iii 
 three years afterwards he published a translation of Rohault's Phy- 
 sics, in which work many errors of the Cartesian system are cor- 
 rected by annotational references to that of Newton. He also 
 translated the Optics of this great philosopher, at his particular re- 
 quest, in 1707, the same year in which the appointment of Cotes, the 
 friend and admirer of Newton, to the office of PInmian Professor, 
 contributed to extend the popularity of his discoveries, and to esta- 
 blish that predominating influence which Mathematics and Natural 
 Philosophy were now beginning to acquire in academical educa- 
 tion. 
 
 Soon after this lime public acts were commonly held in the Prin- 
 cipia, from which subjects were taken, not only for dlspatation by 
 the moderators, but for lectures by the college tutors. At length, 
 about the middle of the last century, mathematical science began 
 to occupy almost undivided attention at Cambridge, and to throw 
 every other subject into the back-ground. The celebrated Waring, 
 who filled the Lucasian chair in 1759, by his profound analytical re- 
 searches infused a larger portion of pure mathematics into the 
 public examinations, and of course into the preparatory studies of 
 the youth. Those examinations bad for some years taken a de- 
 cidedly mathematical turn, and peculiar honorary distinctions were 
 conferred on the questionists according to their proficiency in these 
 abstruse sciences ; and thus Cambridge became almost exclusively 
 a nursery for mathematicians, pushing philosophy itself to a vicious 
 excess, and bending the most opposite dispositi«^ns to the torture of 
 theorems and problems. It is not iudecd denied that the genius of 
 classical literature has, through ail periods, distinguished this illus- 
 trious seat of science, from the days of Cheke and Ascham, of Milton
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. Ixix 
 
 mencement of the Bachelors of Arts. It is evident also 
 that the studies of the university were at this time under- 
 going a change, from the following passage: Erga Jianc 
 Dei OjjL Max. pulcherrimam filiam qiidm sincere vos sitis 
 
 and Gray, of Barrow and Pearce, of Rentley and Person, to tbose 
 of a living host of scholars, who still adorn its annals and extend its 
 fame: but the cultivation of mathematical knowledge has been ex- 
 clusive, whilst that of classical literature has been straitened and 
 confined, nay, v^mosi j or luitous : for although the establishment of 
 scholarships, medals, and other rewards, for the encouragement of 
 the litterce hnmaniores, were instituted very soon after the cultiva- 
 tion of mathematical science became excessive, still these honorable 
 distinctions formed, as it were, objects of emulation to a few, rather 
 than stimulants of industry to the mass, and they have generally 
 been the rewards of previous merit rather than of succeeding appli- 
 cation. 
 
 At length, however, the force of prejudice, and the deep-rooted 
 laws of custom, have given way to the enlightened spirit of the age, 
 and Mathesis has admitted a partner to her tluone; one too, qualeni 
 decet esse sororem. The youth at Cambridge are now examined in 
 classical literature previousl3' to their degree; are examined in 
 it, conjointly with mathematics, for the degree of A. B. ; and are 
 allowed a competition for classical honors in a tripos, after that de- 
 gree is completed. 
 
 If a pertinacious adherence (o established system led the members 
 of our university to oppose the intrusion of visionary theories, 
 whose very projectors, were they established one day, would assail 
 them the next; nay, if they even made Truth herself wait at the 
 portal of their sanctuary until her claims for admission were inves- 
 tigated, they deserve the thanks of every one who wishes to keep 
 the bulwarks of sound learning and religion firm on their founda- 
 tions, admitting such alterations in the su)ierstructure as lime and 
 circumstances may require. 
 
 But the authors of the change need not fear the overthrow of 
 their venerable institutions : there is nothing to prevent the studies 
 of abstract science from flourishing vigorously in conjunction with
 
 Ixx BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 animati, vel propensus iste affectus indicare potest, quo 
 nuperrime matliematicas scientias veritati unict charas 
 dilectasque colere ccepistis. Macti estate, Academici, tam 
 insigni et laudabili studio.* 
 
 Wehave seen that Barrow, after having introduced, and 
 stimulated the academic world to pursue, an improved 
 system of philosophical study, yielded his professorial chair 
 to that friend whose occupation of it has rendered it one 
 
 those of classical and theological literature : by the list of Cambridge 
 honors we find that the best classical scliolars have invariably dis- 
 tinguished themselves in mathematical pursuits, and two of the 
 most eminent prelates who now adorn the English Bench, obtained 
 the highest honors in both departments. Besides, it is absurd 
 to suppose that a short time, taken from the study of abstract 
 science, and applied to other pursuits, can ever injure the talents, 
 or diminish the acquirements of a mathematical genius : so far, 
 otherwise, it will strengthen and increase them by operating as a 
 species of mental relaxation, and may even prevent the bodily 
 constitution from sinking, as it often does, under the pressure of 
 intense application to one difficult and fatiguing study. And if 
 it does diminish the quantity of science which has of late been ac- 
 quired by the candidates for high academical honors, it will act 
 equally and impartially, at the time, on all, nor will.it prohibit any 
 of them from ultimately arriving at the highest point of their ambi> 
 tion : it will never diminish the number of our Saundersons, our 
 Coteses, and our Newtons ; nay, even if it should have this effect, a 
 lesser good would still be sacrificed to a greater ; for an establish- 
 ment like our university must look, not so much to the exhibition 
 of a few splendid names on its annals, as to the general improvement 
 of all the youth committed to its management : these are to be ren- 
 dered, as far as possible, useful and respectable members of society ; 
 the natural bent of their studious inclinations is in a certain degree 
 to be accommodated; and all excuses for indolence and apathy are 
 to be removed. 
 ♦ Opusc. p. I2G.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. Ixxj 
 
 of the highest honors that Science can bestow on her most 
 favored sons. With respect to himself, he devoted his 
 powerful mind and vast acquirements to the service of 
 religion, whilst he adorned its doctrines by the purity and 
 holiness of his life. He soon acquired the reputation of 
 an admirable preacher; though Dr. Pope relates some 
 curious scenes which occurred, as well by reason of his 
 strange attire and attenuated aspect, (for he was not only 
 worn down by study, but slovenly in his dress,) as by the 
 detention of his congregation, and his discourses of an un- 
 conscionable length. In one instance, when he preached 
 for Dr. Wilkins at St. Lawrence-Jewry, so uncouth and 
 unpromising was his appearance, that the congregation 
 scampered out of church before he could begin his sermon : 
 the good doctor however, taking no notice of this distur- 
 bance, proceeded, named his text, and preached away to 
 the two or three that were gathered, or rather left together ; 
 of which number it happened that Mr. Baxter, the eminent 
 non-conformist, was one, who afterwards declared to Dr. 
 Wilkins that he never listened to a better discourse : 
 amongst those also that remained was a young man who 
 appeared like an apprentice, or the foreman of a shop, and 
 who pleased Barrow greatly by accosting him with these 
 words of encouragement, as he came down from the 
 pulpit : Sir, be not disinayed, for I assure you 'twas a good 
 sermon. When several parishioners came to expostu? 
 late with Dr. Wilkins on his suffering such an ignorant 
 scandalous person to have the use of his pulpit, he referred 
 them to Mr. Baxter, who candidly praised the sermon as it 
 deserved, declaring that he could willingly have been an 
 auditor all the day long. Confounded and put to shame 
 by this judgment from a person whom they acknowleged
 
 Ixxii BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 as their superior, they soon confessed that they had not 
 heard a word of the discourse which they thus abused, and 
 began earnestly to entreat their rector that he would pro- 
 cure Dr. Barrow's services again, promising to make him 
 amends by bringing their whole families to his sermon. 
 All persons, however, had not the patience of the worthy 
 non-conformist, as was evident when Barrow was preach- 
 ing on a certain holiday at Westminster Abbey ; for the 
 servants of that church, who were then accustomed to 
 show the waxen effigies of the kings and queens, between 
 services on holidays, to crowds of the lower orders, per- 
 ceiving the Doctor in the pulpit long after the hour was 
 past, and fearing to lose that time in hearing which they 
 thought could be so much more profitably employed in 
 receiving, became so impatient, that they caused the organ 
 to be struck up against him, and would not cease till they 
 had blown him down. Can Dr. Pope however be credited, 
 when he assures us that his spittle-sermon before the Lord 
 Mayor and Aldermen occupied three hours and a half? 
 One is almost tempted to suppose that the customary invi- 
 tation to dinner had been forgotten, and that the preacher 
 took this ingenious method of revenging himself for the 
 neglect. Being asked on that occasion, when he came 
 down from the pulpit, whether he was not tired, his reply 
 is said to have been— "Yes indeed, I began to be weary 
 with standing so long." He took infinite pains with his 
 compositions, transcribing them over and over again ; for 
 he well knew the force of that Horatian precept, which 
 says, ludentis sjieciem dahit et torquehitur ; and that he 
 generally pleases his readers most who has given himself 
 the most trouble to please them. Amongst other methods 
 which he took for infusing a spirit of eloquence into his
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. Ixxiii 
 
 discourses, was that of copying out the finest passages of 
 classical and ecclesiastical writers, particularly Demosthenes 
 and Chrysostom ; whence he formed a magazine of rich 
 materials, from which he might draw out stores for all 
 subjects. His manuscripts in Trinity College bear ample 
 testimony to this practice, a very considerable portion of 
 them being occupied by those excerj)ta. By such diligence 
 he acquired that copious and majestic style which induced 
 the illustrious Lord Chatham to recommend the study of 
 Barrow's sermons to his still more illustrious son ;* by this 
 he also has acquired those profound views on theological 
 subjects, which induced Warburton himself to declare 
 that in reading Barrow he was obliged to think. His 
 indefatigable habits of study, and his own appreciation of 
 the fruits of it, are thus pleasantly enough described by 
 Dr. Pope.t " All the while he continued with the Bishop 
 of Salisbury I was a witness of his indefatigable study. 
 At that time he applied himself wholly to divinity, having 
 given a divorce to mathematics, and poetry, and the rest 
 of the helles lettres, wherein he was profoundly versed, 
 making it his chief, if not his only business, to write in 
 defence of the church of England, and compose sermons, 
 whereof he had great store, and I need not say, very good. 
 " We were once going from Salisbury to London, he in 
 the coach with the Bishop, and I on horseback : as he was 
 entering the coach, I perceived his pockets strutting out 
 near half a foot, and said to him. What have you got in 
 your pockets? He replied, Sermons. Sermons, said I ; 
 
 * He read Harrow's Sermons at the desire of Lord Chatham, 
 who thought them admirably adapted to furnish the copia veibo- 
 rum. Tomline's Life of Pitt, Vol. i. p. 13. 8vo. 
 
 t Life of Bishop Ward, p. 143.
 
 Ixxiv BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 give them to me; my hoy shall carry them in his portmau' 
 teau, and ease you of that luggage. But, said he, suppose 
 your hoy should he rohhed? That's pleasant ; said I : do 
 you think there are persons padding on the road for ser- 
 mons? — Why, ivhat have you? said he. It may he five 
 or six guineas. I hold my sermons at a greater rate, for 
 they cost me much pains and time. — Well then, said T, if 
 you'll secure my five or six guineas against lay-padders. 
 Til secure your sermons against ecclesiastical highwaymen. 
 This was agreed ; he emptied his pockets, and filled my 
 portmanteau with his divinity, and we had the good fortune 
 to come safe to our journey's end, and to bring both our 
 treasures to London." Dr. Pope farther informs us, "that 
 he was unmercifully cruel to a lean carcass, not allowing it 
 suflScient meat or sleep :" that " during the winter months, 
 and some part of the rest, he rose before it was light, being 
 never without a tinder-box ;" and that he has known him 
 frequently to rise after his first sleep, light and burn out 
 his candle, and then return to bed before day.* 
 
 Soon after his resignation of the Lucasian professor- 
 ship, Barrow's uncle, who had been translated to the see 
 of St. Asaph, gave him a small sinecure in Wales, and Dr. 
 Seth Ward, bishop of Salisbury, who highly esteemed his 
 character, and delighted in his society, collated him to the 
 prebend of Yatminster in his cathedral. Just before he 
 received this piece of preferment. Dr. Pope heard him say, 
 I wish I had five hundred jwunds. He replied, Thai's a 
 great sum for a philosopher to desire; ichat would you do 
 with so much ? I would give it, said he, to my sister for a 
 
 * Mr. Hill declares that he saw written with Barrow's own hand 
 at the end of his Apolloniiis, April 14. Intra hac temporis inter, 
 valla peractum hoc opus. 31au W,
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. IxXV 
 
 portion, and that would procure her a good husband. 
 This sum, a few months afterwards, he actually received 
 for putting a new life into the corps of his prebend ;* after 
 which he resigned it to Mr. Corker, one of the fellows of 
 Trinity, who was succeeded in it by Dr. Colbatch. He 
 also resigned his sinecure, the profits of which, as well as 
 those of his stall, were always applied by him to charitable 
 purposes : so much did his mind soar above the sordid love 
 of gain. 
 
 In the year 1670 he had been created D.D. by royal 
 mandate, and on the promotion of Dr. John Pearson to 
 the see of Chester, Barrow attained the utmost height of 
 his wishes, in the mastership of his college, on which he 
 entered February 27, 1672, about four years after his old 
 friend Dr. Duport had been restored to the bosom of Alma 
 Mater as head of Magdalene. When the king advanced 
 Barrow to this dignity, for which he was indebted neither 
 to the cabals of party, nor to the caprice of fortune, his Ma- 
 jesty was pleased to observe, with great justness of remark, 
 that he had given it to the best scholar in his Jcingdom ; 
 an opinion not founded altogether on common report ; for 
 the Doctor had been some time one of the court chaplains, 
 and had on several occasions held conversations with the 
 king, who good-humoredly called him an unfair preacher; 
 since he so intirely exhausted his subject as to leave room 
 for no one to come after him. 
 
 The patent for his mastership having been drawn up for 
 
 • A copy of the indenture made for this purpose between Dr. 
 Barrow and Mr. Sergeant Strode, of Lewes(on, in the county of 
 Dorset, is preserved in Cole's Mss. Vol. xxix. p. 36. Barrow was 
 installed May 16, 1671., and was the thirty-eighth prebendary from 
 the foundation; the first was Wm. St. John, who died in 1297,
 
 Ixxvi BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 him, as it had been for some others, with a permission to 
 marry, he had that clause erased, considering it contrary to 
 the intent of the statutes, from which he desired no sort of 
 dispensation. In truth he had determined to dedicate him- 
 self intirely to the interests of his college, which was to him, 
 as Hector was to Helen, in place of all other relatives : so 
 completely did he justify the sentiment of his old shipmate, 
 the captain of the vessel in which he sailed from Leghorn ; 
 a jovial tar, with whom Barrow seems to have been a great 
 favorite, and who used sometimes, when the wine circu- 
 lated after dinner in the cabin, jocosely to pledge him in 
 the name of his mistress, the college. The verses in which 
 he alludes to this circumstance, when describing the honest 
 captain's convivial qualities, are not among the worst of the 
 composition. 
 
 Ah ! quoties festo cum slrideie mensa tumuKu 
 
 Couvivasque infer serpere multa salus 
 Coeperat, ille Ini, dixit milii, Cyntliia cordis 
 
 Nulla nee imperium Delia mollis iiabet. 
 Collegium tibi pro domina est : age, pocula plena, 
 
 Pocula diiectae sume dicata luae. 
 Sic pateram accipieiis ut nunquam la?<ius ullam, 
 
 Plurima pro vestra vota salute fero. 
 
 No sooner was Barrow settled in his lodge, to the great 
 joy not only of the fellows, but of the university and all 
 lovers of learning, than he declined some allowances usually 
 made to his predecessors ; and, as Dr. Pope observes, to 
 show his humility and care of the college revenue, " he 
 remitted to them the charge of keeping a coach for his 
 time, which they had done a long while before for other 
 masters." How different was his conduct in this respect 
 to that great scholar who afterwards occupied his place.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. Ixxvll 
 
 and whose avarice not less than his tyrannical disposition 
 kept the Society in a state of tumult and misery for nearly 
 half a century ! 
 
 As there is one act which has above all others signal- 
 ised Dr. Barrow's reign at Trinity, I shall offer no ex- 
 cuse for dwelling on it more at length. For some time 
 a scheme had been agitated at Cambridge to erect a theatre 
 like that with which Archbishop Sheldon had adorned the 
 sister university ; and which would have been better adapted 
 to the disputations which were held on all public oc- 
 casions within the walls of St. Mary's Church: also to 
 provide a better room for the public library, which had 
 considerably increased ; and public schools more suitable to 
 the convenience and dignity of the university. As similar 
 projects are at this very time in agitation, and plans 
 from some of the most eminent architects of the day 
 have been actually procured for the erection of a new 
 library, &,c. and as the reader may not dislike to compare 
 them with the ideas entertained by our ancestors on 
 such a subject, I have extracted the following passage from 
 an oration spoken by Dr. Barrow at a public commence- 
 ment, which from internal evidence seems to have taken 
 place in July 1675. Hisce nimirum prccludiis ad ilia viam 
 sternimus, spem erigimus, animosqne comparamus augus- 
 tiora nostr(E Reip : incrementa ; Theatrum utique quod 
 disputantium jurgiis hoc templum exo7ieret, et quo sannio- 
 num inepticB relegentur ; Bibliothecam, quce supellectilem 
 nostram lihrariam, haud sane curiam, apt^ capiat, et 
 quam tot opiimi auctores laxius atque liherius incolant, 
 tatn arcto limite minus cestuantes ; Scholas denique pub- 
 licas, illustris nostra; Reip : amplitudine dignas, quihnsque 
 pulcherrimam et suavissimam islam Germanam nostram,
 
 Ixxviii BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 ut mentis indole pluri7num referimus, ita vultus specie 
 propius attingamus.* In the preceding month of April a 
 grace had passed the Senate to appoint a syndicate, con- 
 sisting of the Vice-chancellor, himself, Dr. Dnport, and 
 fourteen other heads or Masters of Arts, to take this 
 plan into consideration conjointly with a legacy left by 
 Dr^ Laney, the deceased Bishop of Ely, in order to pro- 
 mote it, on condition that it was begun within one year 
 after his death.f Barrow, with his friend Duport, was 
 convinced that this great work might be effected by means 
 of a siibscription, if the university were not wanting to 
 itself ; but he was unable to infuse a proper portion of his 
 own spirit into others : the scheme failed ; and it was left 
 for a future age to show a better spirit, and perhaps a 
 better taste, in the erection of that elegant senate-house 
 which now adorns our university.^ 
 
 Dr. Barrow however, though baflfled in this laudable 
 enterprise, was resolved to show the practicability of his 
 scheme, by adding a building of equal beauty and extent 
 to his own college, among the members of which he found 
 greater liberality, and a more just appreciation of his 
 designs. " Indeed," (says Mr. A. Hill,) " it were a dis- 
 respect to his college to doubt that where he had spent so 
 much time, and obliged so many persons, he should not be 
 most welcome. They knew as his power increased, the 
 effects of his goodness would do so too ; and the senior 
 fellows so well understood and esteemed him, that with 
 
 * Opusc. p. 346. 
 
 t Univ. Reg. for 1675. 
 
 X This was built about fifty years afterwards, under the direction 
 of that eminent architect, Sir James Burrowes, Master of Caius 
 College.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. Ixxix 
 
 good will and joy they received a master younger than 
 any of themselves." Accordingly he projected a new and 
 spacious library, and wrote with his own hand an immense 
 number of letters to the most wealthy and influential per- 
 sons connected with the college ;* with whom he was so 
 successful, that he was enabled to lay the foundation, 
 though unhappily he did not live to see the completion, of 
 that splendid edifice which adorns the western side of 
 Neville's Court, and is one of the architectural glories of 
 his friend Sir Christopher Wren. Dr. Duport having 
 generously given 200/. towards this noble undertaking, 
 the good feelings of the master led him to consent that 
 the name of his old tutor should stand first on the list of 
 subscribers, even before his own.f The letters written on 
 this occasion by Dr. Barrow are said to have been models 
 of composition for their elegance of style and variety of 
 expression. He also took the trouble of sending answers 
 to those who had thus seconded his views ; and it is a pity 
 that the hint given by Mr. A. Hill was not taken, and 
 those autographs returned by their possessors, to be kept 
 in the college archives. 
 
 On the 9th of November 1765, Dr. Barrow entered on 
 the office of vice-chancellor. The Latin oration which he 
 delivered, according to custom, on that occasion, contains 
 
 * What a contrast is here between Barrow and that great but 
 tyrannical character, the glory and disgrace of literature, alluded to 
 above, who almost robbed his fellows when he, as it were, forced 
 them to contribute their whole year's income towards the fitting up 
 of the chapel. See Dr. Monk's interesting Memoir, p. 162. 
 
 f Duport left his books at his decease to this library. See the 
 interesting Memoir of him by Dr. Monk, in the Mus. Crit. Vol. ii. 
 p. 697.
 
 IXXX BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 nothing of particular moment or interest, except that in 
 the exordium he seems to give a just and true account of 
 his own inoffensive, amiable, retiring disposition, when he 
 urges it as a reason why he is unversed in public business, 
 and unfit to handle the reins of authority. He adverts 
 also to the peculiar difficulties attending every kind of 
 government in those times of lax discipline, rebellious 
 spirit, dissolute habits, and extreme licentiousness ; draw- 
 ing a vivid picture of the state of things, and earnestly re- 
 questing the assistance of his brother heads in repressing 
 any examples of vicious conduct that might have crept 
 into the university. 
 
 We find however, from a very beautiful speech made 
 when he laid down his office, that he passed through it 
 without encountering any of those unpleasant circum- 
 stances which he had anticipated ; but he expresses no 
 small delight in casting aside the trappings of authority, 
 and regaining his beloved tranquillity in a more private 
 station. Hujus ingruentis I/ztitice caiisas nihil opus est 
 expunere : qiiis enim porlum non hilaris ingreditur ? quis 
 sihi se restitutum non Icetabundus excipit ? quern non de- 
 lectet eximi jugo, vel emancipari servitute, tot dominis 
 addicta, quorum tarn difficile sit exequi placita, quam sen- 
 tentias conciliare ? quis invifd Minerva susceptum onus 
 non animo adluhescente deponat ? . . . . quis demum a 
 fervido rerum oestu in amoenam iimhram, ah obstreperis 
 litibus in tranquillam pacem, ah alienis importunis ne- 
 gotiis ad sua jucunda studia regresso sibi non impense 
 gratuletur ? Hence the source of his joy : but he adds, 
 that there is a grief also, which he experiences, and which 
 arises from unpropitious fate not having allowed him to 
 perform any act worthy of himself or of the university ;
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. Ixxxi 
 
 from the necessity of his going off the stage more like to the 
 miserable Galba, than to the admirable Vespasian ; wherein 
 he probably alludes, in as gentle a manner as possible, to 
 the failure of his scheme in the affair of the theatre. 
 
 Though liberated from the fatigues of public business, 
 Barrow did not spare his mental labor ; but set himself 
 assiduously to work on that admirable treatise respecting 
 Papal Supremacy, which alone would have established his 
 reputation, and set him at the head of controversial writers. 
 The pains which he took with this noble tract were im- 
 mense ; and the state of his manuscripts in Trinity Col- 
 lege Library shows that probably no piece was ever com- 
 posed more studiously, digested more carefully, or sup- 
 ported by more numerous and powerful authorities. *' He 
 understood Popery," as Mr. Hill his biographer rightly 
 observes, " both at home and abroad : he had narrowly 
 observed it militant in England, triumphant in Italy, dis- 
 guised in France : he had earlier apprehensions, than most 
 others, of the approaching danger, and would have ap- 
 peared with the forwardest in a needful time." 
 
 Barrow's opinion of Popery, of its degrading ordinances, 
 and of the evils to which they lead, is expressed with un- 
 common force and severity in the copy of hexameters 
 which he sent to his college from Paris : nor can there be 
 any doubt that a man like him, who never eagerly coveted 
 the splendors of rank, or the advantages of wealth, would 
 willingly have risked, or cheerfully resigned, all earthly 
 possessions when his conscience demanded the sacrifice. 
 Unfortunately for the University and mankind at large, 
 his life was not protracted long enough to afford him this 
 trial of his faith and constancy. Being invited to preach 
 the Passion Sermon on the 33th of April, 1677, at Guild- 
 BAR. VOL. I. e
 
 Ixxxii BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 hall, he never preached but once more ; for he fell sick of 
 a fever, which carried him off on the 4th of May following : 
 thus the last public act of a life spent in constant prepara- 
 tion for eternity, was one of the highest duties in his sa- 
 cred profession : death approached him when he was in the 
 maturity of his manhood, and at the height of his worldly 
 ambition ; but approached without bis terrors ; for he found 
 him like a vigilant sentinel ready at his post, and only 
 took away from him what is frail and transient, to esta- 
 blish what is permanent and real. His latter end is thus 
 feelingly described by Dr. Pope : " The last time he was 
 in London, whither he came, as it is customary, to the 
 election of Westminster scholars, he went to Knights- 
 bridge to give the Bishop of Salisbury a visit, and then 
 made me engage my word to come to him at Trinity Col- 
 lege immediately after the Michaelmas ensuing. I cannot 
 express the rapture of joy I was in, having, as I thought, 
 so near a pi'ospect of his charming and instructive conver- 
 sation : I fancied it would be a heaven on earth ; for he 
 was immensely rich in learning, and very liberal and com- 
 municative of it, delighting in nothing more than to im- 
 part to others, if they desired it, whatever he had attained 
 by much time and study : but of a sudden all my hopes 
 vanished, and were melted like snow before the sun. Some 
 few days after he came again to Knightsbridge, and 
 sate down to dinner ; but I observed he did not eat : where- 
 upon I asked him, how it was with him. He answered 
 that he had a slight indisposition hanging about him, with 
 which he had struggled two or three days, and that he 
 hoped hy fasting and opium to get it off", as he had re- 
 moved another and more dangerous sickness at Constanti- 
 nople some years before. But these remedies availed him 
 not : his malady proved, in the event, an inward, malig-
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. Ixxxiii 
 
 nant, and insuperable fever, of which he died May 4, 
 1677, in the 47th year of his age, in mean lodgings, at a 
 Sadler's, near Charing Cross, which he had used for seve 
 ral years : for though his condition was much bettered by 
 his obtaining the mastership of Trinity College, yet that 
 had no bad influence on his morals ; he still continued the 
 same humble person, and could not be prevailed upon to 
 take more reputable lodgings. I may truly say, Multis 
 ills bonis Jlebilis occidit ; Nidlijlehilior quam mihi." 
 
 The mortal remains of this illustrious man were depo- 
 sited in the south wing of Westminster Abbey near the 
 western wall, where his friends erected a marble monu- 
 ment to his memory, with a bust on the top, and the fol- 
 lowing inscription in front, written by his excellent friend 
 Dr. John Mapletoft, one of the Professors of Gresham 
 College. 
 
 ISAACUS BARROW, 
 
 S. T. P. REGI CAROLO II. A SACRIS. 
 
 Vir prope divinus, et vere inagnus, si quid magni habent 
 
 Pietas, probitas, fides, summa eruditio, par modestia, 
 
 Mores sanctissimi undequaqtie et suavissimi. 
 
 Geometriae Professor Loudini Gresbamensis, 
 
 Graecae Lingua;, et Matbeseos apud Cantabrigienses suos. 
 
 Cathedras omiies, ecclesiam, gentem ornavit. 
 
 Collegium S. S. Trinitatis Prieses illustravit, 
 
 Jactis bibiiothecae vera regia' riindamentis auxit. 
 
 Opes, bonores, et universum vilae ambitum, 
 
 Ad majora natus, non contempsit, sed reliquit seculo. 
 
 Deum, quern a teneris coluit, cum primis imitalus est 
 
 Paucissimis egendo, benefaciendo quam plurimis, 
 
 Etiam posteris, quibus vel mortuus concioiiari non desinit. 
 
 Caetera, et pene majora ex scriptis peti possunt. 
 
 Abi, Lector, et aemulare. 
 
 Obiit IV. die Maii, ann. Dom. mdclxxvh 
 
 /Elat. sua; XLVii. 
 
 Monumentum h,oc Amici posuere.
 
 Ixxxiv BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 " In this epitaph," as Mr. A. Hill observes, " his much 
 esteemed friend Dr. Mapletoft doth truly describe him : 
 his picture was never made from the life, and the eflBgy on 
 his tomb doth little resemble him." Dr. Ward however 
 contradicts this account so far as to say, that although 
 Barrow never could be prevailed on to sit for his picture, 
 some friends found means to get it taken without his 
 knowlege, whilst they engaged his attention in discourse. 
 " He was in person," says Mr. Hill, "of the lesser size, 
 and lean ; of extraordinary strength ; of a fair and calm 
 complexion, very sensible of the cold ; his eyes grey, clear, 
 and somewhat short-sighted ; his hair of a light auburn, 
 very fine and curling. He is well represented by the 
 figure of Marcus Brutus on his denarii." If the likeness 
 prefixed to the fii-st edition of Barrow's works by his friend 
 Archbishop Tillotson, be correct, we see that penetrating 
 sagacity of intellect and that amiable spirit of goodness 
 combined, which so eminently distinguished the original. 
 If it be not so, what cause has posterity for regret, whilst 
 the mind of the man may be so accurately traced in the 
 indelible record of his glorious writings I 
 
 I can in truth delare, that in no human character which 
 I ever investigated, have I discovered such minute, I 
 may say imperceptible traces of vice, or such a pervading 
 love of virtue, as in that of Isaac Barrow. Those who 
 knew him best, bear the most ample testimony to his 
 almost faultless disposition ; and Dr. Pope, who had 
 a long and very intimate acquaintance with him, need not 
 be discredited, when he affirms that he can find no fault 
 to allege against him, but that he was a little too long 
 in his sermons. Yet in those sermons what a rich legacy 
 has he left to his countrymen! What an unbounded com- 
 mand over our language is there displayed ! what a va-
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. IxXXV 
 
 rious and vigorous style ! what felicities of expression, 
 what beauties of imagery, and what an affluence of noble 
 sentiments ! Again, what tender and persuasive earnest- 
 ness do we discover ! what soul-stirring exhortation ! what 
 powerful denunciation ! what bright views of religion, and 
 what passages of intense sublimity !* So that he who has 
 not perused these writings may be said not to know the 
 power of his mother-tongue ; or to be like the possessor of 
 a field, who is unacquainted with a mine of richest ore 
 that lies beneath its surface. Barrow's discourses are 
 very different from those of Sherlock, but equally good in 
 their kind : they are not so critically correct — so logical 
 in argument — so accurate in arrangement — so definite in 
 terms — so free from repetitions, or even from imperfec- 
 tions : for the very sublimity of Barrow's mind, the vast 
 extent of his knowlege, and the abundant power of his ima- 
 gination, sometimes hurry him on towards a faulty excess. 
 He does not always stay to analyse his thoughts, to weigh 
 scrupulously his modes of expression, or to distinguish, ac- 
 curately between the heads and propositions of his dis- 
 courses ; but if those discourses be not always well ar- 
 ranged, they are the product of an extraordinary mind ; 
 they are the out-pourings of a strong and capacious intel- 
 lect; exuberant streams, or rather torrents, of eloquence and 
 sound theology sent forth, tanquam ex cathedra, until the 
 very powers of thought and the varieties of language seem 
 to be exhausted. It may also be observed that the faults 
 of Barrow's composition are much more apparent to a per- 
 son who reads his sermons consecutively, than to him who 
 takes up a single one for casual perusal. When a man 
 
 * I will only refer the reader to the close of the first sermon, for 
 proof of his Miltonic sublimity.
 
 IxxXVi BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 writes as he did, not for publication, but for preaching', 
 and for the inculcation of sound principles into an audience, 
 repetitions may be necessary, tautology allowed. But if to 
 Barrow's eloquence we add the splendor of his moral cha- 
 racter, a studious and blameless youth, a diligent and use- 
 ful manhood, principles which no power or flattery could 
 shake, freedom from the love of lucre, gratitude to friends, 
 charity and condescension to all below him, and humility, 
 which was doubly meritorious in so highly gifted a mind ; 
 finally, if to such graces and endowments we subjoin his 
 sound sense, his wisdom, his foresight, and knowlege of 
 mankind, where shall we look for his superior I* 
 
 And even in this world he gathered the blessed fruits of 
 all these natural and acquired virtues. No one seems to 
 have really enjoyed life more than Barrow. He was the 
 delight of society, and men took a pleasure in returning 
 to his bosom a portion of that happiness which they de- 
 rived from his company. He seems actually to have had 
 no enemies, no vexations. Though he continued steady 
 in his principles through the worst of times, yet so upright 
 was his conduct, so prudent were his measures, so peace- 
 able was his disposition, and so commanding were his ta- 
 lents, that faction herself smoothed her ruflfled brow when 
 he appeared ; and calumny never once assailed the purity 
 of his fame t Yet though he was too humble to grasp at 
 
 * He came, says Archbishop Tillotson (in the preface to his 
 works), as near as is possible for humane frailty to doe, to the perfect 
 idea of St. James his perfect man. 
 
 t If 1 could hear (says Mr. A. Hill) of an accusation, that I might 
 vindicate our friend's fame, it would take off from the flatness of my 
 expression ; or a well-managed faction, under the name of zeal, for 
 or against the church, would show well in story : but I have no shsk- 
 dows to set off my piece.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. Ixxxvii 
 
 an inordluate share of human goods, too wise to aspire 
 after a splendid dependence, too gentle to struggle with a 
 jostling crowd, all things were his : and when we contrast 
 the overflowing joy of Barrow's life with the feverish 
 state of him who is an ambitious candidate for this world's 
 glories, how strongly do we perceive the fulfilment of that 
 promise in which it is declared, the meek shall inherit 
 the earth. 
 
 To collect farther testimonies to the excellence of his 
 talents, his writings, and his character, would be a super- 
 fluous labor :* if his works be perused, they will speak for 
 themselves and for their author. A few of his opinions 
 however may be recorded, whether it be to aff'ord instruc- 
 tion, or to gratify curiosity. 
 
 He is said to have been a great enemy to those pieces 
 that were written for theatrical representation in his days; 
 thinking, and not without reason, that they were a princi- 
 pal cause of the licentiousness then so prevalent : his own 
 wit was pure and peaceable ; and as for satires, he wrote 
 hone. 
 
 Notwithstanding his extensive range in the field of li- 
 terature, science, and philosophy, he gave it as his opinion, 
 (and a very sound one it is,) that general scholars please 
 themselves most, but those who prosecute particular sub- 
 jects do more service to the community. 
 
 His favorite authors appear to have been Sophocles, De- 
 mosthenes, and Aristotle, among the Greek classics ; Chry- 
 sostom among the Fathers ; and Ovid among the Latin 
 poets. " The greater part of his poems," says Dr. Pope, 
 
 * The reader may find some in the Bibliotheque Universelle, 
 T. iii. p. 325 : in the preface to Pemberton's View of Sir Isaac New- 
 ton's Philosophy : in Archbishop Tillotsou's preface to bis works; &c.
 
 Ixxxviii BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF 
 
 " were written in hexameter and pentameter verses, after 
 the manner of Ovid, whom he had in great esteem, pre- 
 ferring him even before the divine Virgil. I have heard 
 him say that he believed Virgil could not have made the 
 Metamorphosis so well as Ovid has : concerning which 
 there have been betwixt us several sharp, but not bitter 
 disputes ; for herein I confess I differed from him, though 
 we were, as to all other things, generally speaking, of the 
 same mind, as Horace says of his friend Fuscus Aristius 
 and himself: 
 
 hac in re scilicet una 
 
 Multum dissimiles ; ad csetera pene gemelll 
 Fraternis animis." 
 
 In a very excellent speech which Barrow made to the 
 students of Trinity College on his appointment to the Hu- 
 manity Lecture,* he fully confirms this statement of Dr. 
 Pope, when he gives the reasons for selecting Ovid as the 
 subject of his lectures: — 
 
 "Ex omni choro Authorum, quern unalegeremus, segre- 
 gavi Ovidium. Torvum enim illud etmorosum Virgilianse 
 majestatis reveriti, incertum et intricatum Papiniani tu- 
 moris abominati sumus. Et Horatium, saepe suaviter ne- 
 quam, dictisque elegantibus et praeceptis non raro lasciviae 
 ac intemperantiae virus admiscentem, respuimus. Quin et 
 ipsum praeterire ausi sumus Ciceronem, subinde dum largo 
 flumine verborum exundat, rebus et sensibus parcum . Quidni 
 igitur Ovidium in manus sumerem 1 Ovidium dixi, imo 
 potius Genium quendam ingenii ac eloquentias in humana 
 
 * It is intitled Pro Lectore Human, oratio. The office, I believe, 
 answers to that of the present Latin Lecturer ; though the duties 
 have necessarily altered with the times.
 
 DR. ISAAC BARROW. Ixxxix 
 
 Specie ludentera : cujus versiculos nee mortalis aliqua cura 
 finxisse, nee studium expressisse, neque ars eoncinnassey 
 sed vel natura ipsa sponte effudisse, aut divinior quasdam 
 Musa dietasse videatur. Ovidium, laetea ubertate eloquii, 
 facili proprietate verborum, sineera puritate sermonis, sen- 
 tentiarum apposite lepore, utilique acumine, sequali calore, 
 et continue styli spiritu cuivis conferendum," &c. 
 
 After this he concludes with some admirable instruc- 
 tions for themes, and several other species of compo- 
 sition. 
 
 Almost all the worldly goods which Barrow left behind 
 him consisted in his books; but these were so well chosen, 
 that they sold for more than they cost. He published 
 only two sermons in his life-time ; the rest, with the greater 
 part of his works, were given to the world by his survi- 
 ving and sorrowing father, who thus endeavored to per- 
 petuate the benefits conferred on society by his illustrious 
 son. The task of editing these precious remains was com- 
 mitted to Dr. Tillotson, who appears to have exercised his 
 discretion in dividing some of the sermons, and correcting 
 various inaccuracies in others : he has given a concise 
 account of his editorial labors, and of the works them- 
 selves, in the preface.*' Abraham Hill, Esq. was his co- 
 executor, and these two friends were empowered to deter- 
 mine on such works as should be published. Having now 
 gone through the principal events recorded in the life of 
 this great man, who died at the early age of 47, and 
 yet left behind him such a reputation as few persons 
 have been able to acquire in the longest and most active 
 career, I cannot find a more appropriate conclusion to my 
 
 * 'J'hree volumes in folio were publislied in 1683 ; and a 4th volume, 
 containing the Opuscula, came out in 1 087.
 
 XC LIST OF DR. BARROWS WORKS. 
 
 history than that beautiful and expressive sentence of his 
 own, in which he says, "power may be dreaded; riches 
 may be courted ; wit and knowlege may be admired ; but 
 only goodness is truly esteemed and honored."* 
 
 LIST OF DR. BARROW'S WORKS. 
 
 1. Euclidis Elementa: Cantabrigiae, 1655, et saepius, 8vo. After- 
 wards translated into English, and published, London, 1660. &c. 
 
 2. Euclidis Data: Cantabrigice, 1657. This was subjoined to the 
 Elements in some subsequent Editions. 
 
 3. Lectiones Opticae xviii; Cantabrigiae, in scholis publicis, habi- 
 tat, &c. Londini, 1669. 4to. 
 
 4. Lectiones Geometricae xin. Londini, 1670. 4to. 
 
 .5. Archimedis Opera, Apollonii Conicorum libri iv. Theodosii 
 Sphserica,&c. Londini, 1675. 4to. 
 
 The following were published after his decease. 
 
 1. Lectio, in qua Theoremata Archimedis de sphaera et cylindro 
 &c., exhibentur : Londini, 1678. 12mo. 
 
 2. Mathematicae Lectiones, habilae in Scholis publicis Academue 
 Cantabrigiensis, &c. Londini, 1683. Svo. 
 
 3. The English Works of Dr. Barrow, edited by Dr. John Tillot- 
 son, with a Preface by A. Hill, Esq., in three vols. London, 1683. 
 &c. folio. 
 
 The First Volume contains, 
 Thirty-two Sermons on several occasions. 
 
 A brief exposition of the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, the Decalogue, 
 and the doctrine of the Sacraments. 
 A treatise of the Pope's Supremacy. 
 A discourse concerning the Unity of the Church. 
 
 The Second Volume contains, 
 Sermons and Expositions on all the articles of the Apostles' 
 Creed. 
 
 The Third Volume contains, 
 Forty-five Sermons on .several occasions. 
 
 4. Isaaci Barrow, S.S.T. professoris Opuscula,&c. Londini, 1687. 
 
 * Serm. iv. p. 98.
 
 LIST OF DR. barrow's WORKS. Xci 
 
 folio. This is called Volumen quartum, though printed after the 
 three preceding Volumes. 
 
 5. There are two letters written by him to Mr. Willughby, and 
 printed in the Philosophical Letters between Mr. Ray and his cor- 
 respondents, pp. 360. 362. 
 
 Dr. Ward also informs us* that W. Jones, Esq. communicated to 
 him several curious papers of Dr. Barrow, written in his own hand, 
 of which he gives the following account, 
 
 1. A Latin Volume in 4to. wherein are contained, 
 
 Compendium pro tangentibus determinandis. 
 ^quationum constructio per conicas sectiones. 
 ^quatiouum constructio geometrica. 
 Additamenta de curvis. 
 Which tracts seem to have been written before the publication of 
 his Lectiones Geometricae. 
 
 2. Theorema generale ad lineis curvis tangentes, et curvarum 
 figurarum areas, per motum determinandas: folio : half a sheet. 
 
 3. Letters to Mr. John Collins on various mathematical sub- 
 jects. 
 
 Concerning parabolical conoids, without a date. 
 
 Rectifying a mistake of Mr. Collins, concerning the parallel sec- 
 tions of the cubical parabolical conoid. Without a date. 
 
 Rules to compute the portions of a sphere or spheroid. Sept. 5. 
 1664. 
 
 A character of Mengolus's Elementa Geonietriae Speciosje, with 
 whom he is displeased for his affectation of new definitions and un- 
 couth terms. Nov. 12. 1664. 
 
 He thanks him for a catalogue of mathematical books, which he 
 sent him: gives a character of Aisted's Admiranda Mathematica, 
 which he thinks a work of no great importance. Nov. 29. 1664. 
 
 Concerning a parabolical conoid, cut parallel to the axis. Jan. 9, 
 1664. 
 
 About printing his Archimedes, Apollonius, and Theodosius, as 
 also a new edition of his Euclid. March 3. 1665. 
 
 Concerning the area of the common hyperbola, found by loga- 
 rithms. Feb. 1. 1666. 
 
 Containing a variety of rules relating to the circle and hyperbola, 
 with theorems concerning the curve surfaces of conoids and sphe- 
 roids. March 6. 1667. 
 
 A continuation of the same subject. March 26. 1668. 
 
 A further continuation of it. May 14. 1668. 
 
 * Lives of Greshaai Professors, p. 166.
 
 XCll LIST OF DR. BARROWS WORKS. 
 
 Concerninff the linea secantium. AVith two papers ; one of the 
 figure of secants and tangents, applied to the arch, or radius; the 
 other concerning the cissoidai space. March 1.3. 1668. 
 
 Concerning the publication of his Lectiones Opticae. Dat. Easter 
 Eve, 1669. 
 
 Sends him some few things to be inserted in his Lecliones Geo- 
 nietricne, which were then printing. March 29. 1670. 
 
 Concerning the publication of those Lectures. ApriFSS. 1670. 
 
 Sends him his Apollonius and Perspective Lectures. Oct. 11. 
 1670. 
 
 In addition to the above there is in the Public Library at Cam- 
 bridge, a volume in 8vo. marked Dd. xiv. 9. containing Sermons 
 and Fragments. This Ms. came into its present place with the 
 other Mss. and books of Bishop Moore presented by George I. to 
 the University. The following note appears written at the begin- 
 ning: " Hie Liber, ut ex raanu videtur, fuit viri doctissimi Isaaci 
 Barrow." When I compared its writing with undoubted autographs 
 of Barrow, in company with Mr. Lee, Fellow of Trinity College, 
 who has devoted much time and labor to the completion of a cata- 
 logue of Barrow's works, in the library of his own college, neither 
 that gentleman nor myself had any doubt but that the writing in 
 question was Barrow's. 
 
 The library of Trinity College contains thirteen Ms. Vols, of 
 Barrow's works, published and unpublished, most of the former 
 being in their primitive state, varying from the j)rinted editions, or 
 rough draughts of what afterwards were expanded into Sermons, &;c. 
 Among the latter is an extraordinary number of extracts from De- 
 mosthenes, ^schines, Plutarch, Cicero, &c., as well as from the 
 Christian fathers; pages of detached sentences for the treatise on 
 the Pope's sujiremacy, Sec; arguments on several questions in the 
 Divinity Schools; miscellaneous notes, and references to the Nevr 
 Testament, &c. But the most valuable of these volumes is that 
 containing four sermons, in tiie first page of which is the following 
 note : '• Dr. Isaac Barrow's sermons preached in 1676. Preached 
 by him." The hand-writing is very large, and decidedly not that 
 of Barrow.
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 SUMMARY OF SERMON I. 
 
 PROVERBS, CHAP. III. — VERSE 17. 
 
 Meaning of the words of the text : by wisdom is understood 
 an habitual skill or faculty of judging aright about matters of 
 practice, choosing according to that right judgment, and con- 
 forming the actions to such good choice. Ways and paths in 
 Scripture dialect are the courses and manners of action : by 
 pleasantness may be meant the joy and delight accompanying a 
 course of such actions, and by peace the content and satisfaction 
 which ensue from it. So that the text may be taken simply to 
 represent unto us, that a course of life directed by wisdom and 
 good judgment is delightful in the practice, and brings content 
 after it. This proposition is confirmed by divers reasons, and 
 illustrated by several instances. 
 
 I. It is shown that wisdom is of itself delectable and satisfac- 
 tory, as it implies a revelation of truth, and a detection of error 
 to us ; as it satisfies our best desires, not by entertaining us 
 with dry, empty, and fruitless theories on mean and vulgar sub- 
 jects, but by enriching our minds with excellent and useful 
 knowlege, directed to the noblest objects, and serviceable to the 
 highest ends. 
 
 II. Much more in its consequences is wisdom exceedingly 
 
 BAR. VOL. I. A
 
 2 SUMMARY OF 
 
 pleasant and peaceable : in general, by disposing us to acquire 
 and to enjoy all the good and happiness we are capable of; and 
 by freeing us from the inconveniences and mischiefs to which 
 our condition is subject, &c. : more particularly, 
 
 III. Wisdom assures us that we take the best course, 
 and proceed as we ought: for by the same means we judge 
 aright, and reflecting on that judgment, are assured we do so. 
 Wisdom therefore frees us from the company of anxious doubt 
 in our actions, and the consequence of bitter repentance. 
 
 IV. Wisdom begets in us a hope of success in our actions, 
 and is usually attended therewith : but what is more delicious 
 than hope ? what more satisfactory than success ? 
 
 V. Wisdom prevents discouragement from the possibility of 
 ill success ; yea, and makes disappointment itself tolerable. 
 However the irresistible power of divine Providence, guided by 
 the unsearchable counsel of his will, may interpose to thwart our 
 endeavors ; yet when we act prudently, we have no reason to be 
 disheartened, because, having had good intentions, having used 
 fit means, and having done our best, as no deserved blame, so 
 no considerable damage can arrive to us : and though we find 
 that Almighty God has crossed us, yet we are sure he is not 
 displeased with us. The best and wisest attempts have often- 
 times miscarried : instances given from Moses, and the holy 
 prophets, and our Saviour. But farther, 
 
 VI. Wisdom makes all the troubles, griefs, and pains inci- 
 dent to life, whether casual adversities or natural afflictions, 
 easy and supportable, by rightly valuing the importance and 
 moderating the influence of them, &c. 
 
 VII. Wisdom has always a good conscience attending it, 
 that purest delight and richest cordial of the soul ; that im- 
 pregnable fortress against external assaults and inward commo- 
 tions ; that certain friend, which, as Solomon observes, renders 
 a man's sleep sweet ; &c. 
 
 VIII. Wisdom confers on its possessor a facility, expert
 
 SERMON I. 3 
 
 readiness, and dexterity in action, which is a very pleasant and 
 commodious quality ; removing obstructions, directing the in- 
 tention to ends possible and attainable ; suggesting fit means 
 to work by ; and contriving right methods of process, &c. 
 
 IX. Wisdom begets a sound, healthful, and harmonious com- 
 plexion of the soul, disposing us with judgment to distinguish, 
 and with pleasure to relish, wholesome things ; but to nauseate 
 and reject such as are noxious. 
 
 X. Wisdom acquaints us with ourselves, our own temper 
 and constitution, our propensities and passions, our habitudes 
 and capacities ; a thing not only very advantageous to us, but 
 also very satisfactory and delightful. Errors of conduct, into 
 which a fool is apt to fall, described. The contrary course of 
 him, who, by impartial reflexion on his own mind, grows fami- 
 liar with himself. 
 
 XI. Wisdom procures and preserves a constant favor and 
 fair respect of men, purchases a good name, and upholds repu- 
 tation, which things are naturally desirable, &c. This point 
 enlarged on. 
 
 XII. Wisdom instructs us to examine, compare, and rightly 
 to value the objects that court our affections and challenge our 
 care, merely regulating our passions and moderating our en- 
 deavors ; whence ensue a pleasant serenity and peaceable 
 tranquillity of mind. Instances given of corporeal pleasures, 
 honor, power, wit, and beauty, in which wisdom exercising 
 severe and impartial judgment, and perceiving that they have 
 in them no intrinsic excellence, produce no solid content or 
 perfection to the mind, no security to the future condition, or 
 any other durable advantages, concludes that they deserve not 
 any high opinion of the mind regarding them, nor any labo- 
 rious care in the pursuit of them. 
 
 XIII. Wisdom distinguishing the circumstances, limiting 
 the measures, determining the modes, appointing the fit seasons 
 of action ; preserves order, the parent of peace, and prevents
 
 4 SUMMARY OF SERMON I. 
 
 confusion, the mother of iniquity, strife, and disquiet. Busi- 
 ness of human life compared to a building, &c. 
 
 XIV, Wisdom discovers our relations, duties, and concern- 
 ments with respect to men, as well as the natural grounds of 
 them ; thereby both qualifying and inclining us to the dis- 
 charge of them ; whence exceeding convenience, pleasure, and 
 content ensue : the topic enlarged on : so that wisdom in this 
 point of view is the genuine parent of all moral and political 
 virtue; as Solomon says in her person, / lead in a way of 
 righteousness and in the midst of the paths of judgment. 
 
 XV. The principal advantage of wisdom is, that it ac- 
 quaints us with the nature and reason of true religion, affording 
 the most convincing arguments to persuade us to the practice 
 of it ; which is accompanied by the purest of all delights. 
 The manner in which wisdom acquaints us with the nature of 
 religion, that is, wherein it consists, and what it requires, ex- 
 plained. The incentives by which it allures and persuades us 
 noticed. 
 
 Lastly, wisdom attracts the favor of God, purchases for us 
 a glorious reward, and secures to us a perpetual felicity. For 
 God loveth none but him that dwelleth with wisdom: Wisd. 
 vii. 28. God loveth wisdom as most agreeable to his own 
 nature, &c. And the paths she leads in are such as directly 
 tend to the promised inheritance of joy and bliss. 
 
 Passage of great eloquence, showing how we ought to en- 
 deavor to obtain this excellent endowment of soul ; with a con- 
 cluding fervent aspiration after it.
 
 THE PLEASANTNESS OF RELIGION. 
 
 SERMON I. 
 THE PLEASANTNESS OF RELIGION. 
 
 PROVERBS, CHAP. III. — VERSE 17. 
 Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. 
 
 The meaning of these words seems plain and obvious, 
 and to need little explication. ' Her ways,' that is, the 
 ways of Wisdom. What this wisdom is, I shall not under- 
 take accurately to describe. Briefly, I understand by it, an 
 habitual skill or faculty of judging aright about matters of 
 practice, and choosing according to that right judgment, and 
 conforming the actions to such good choice. 'Ways' and 
 'paths' in Scripture dialect are the courses and manners of 
 action. For ' doing ' there is commonly called 'walking ;' and 
 the methods of doing are the 'ways' in which we walk. By 
 pleasantness may be meant the joy and delight accompanying, 
 and by peace the content and satisfaction ensuing such a course of 
 actions. So that, in short, the sense of these words seems simply 
 to be this ; that a course of life directed by wisdom and good 
 judgment is delightful in the practice, and brings content after 
 it. The truth of which proposition it shall be my endeavor at 
 this time to confirm by divers reasons, and illustrate by several 
 instances. 
 
 I. Then, wisdom of itself is delectable and satisfactory,* as it 
 implies a revelation of truth, and a detection of error to us. It 
 is like light, pleasant to behold, casting a sprightly lustre, and 
 
 * Veritatis luce menti hominis nihil dulcius. Cic. Acad. 2.
 
 6 BARROW. — SERMON I. 
 
 diffusing a benign influence all about; presenting a goodly 
 prospect of things to the eyes of our mind ; displaying objects 
 in their due shapes, postures, magnitudes, and colors; quicken- 
 ing our spirits with a comfortable warmth, and disposing our 
 minds to a cheerful activity ; dispelling the darkness of igno- 
 rance, scattering the mists of doubt, driving away the spectres 
 of delusive fancy ; mitigating the cold of sullen melancholy ; 
 discovering obstacles, securing progress, and making the pas- 
 sages of life clear, open, and pleasant. We are all naturally 
 endowed with a strong appetite to know, to see, to pursue 
 truth ; and with a bashful abhorrency from being deceived and 
 entangled in mistake. And as success in inquiry after truth 
 affords matter of joy and triumph ; so being conscious of error 
 and miscarriage therein, is attended with shame and sorrow. 
 These desires wisdom in the most perfect manner satisfies, not 
 by entertaining us with dry, empty, fruitless theories, on mean 
 and vulgar subjects; but by enriching our minds with excel- 
 lent and useful knowlege, directed to the noblest objects, and 
 serviceable to the highest ends. Nor in its own nature only, 
 but, 
 
 II. Much more in its worthy consequences is wisdom ex- 
 ceedingly pleasant and peaceable : in general, by disposing us 
 to acquire and to enjoy all the good, delight, and happiness we 
 are capable of ; and by freeing us from all the inconveniences, 
 mischiefs, and infelicities our condition is subject to. For 
 whatever good from clear understanding, deliberate advice, sa- 
 gacious foresight, stable resolution, dexterous address, right 
 intention, and orderly proceeding doth naturally result, wisdom 
 confers: whatever evil blind ignorance, false presumption, un- 
 wary credulity, precipitate rashness, unsteady purpose, ill con- 
 trivance, backwardness, inability, unwieldiness and confusion 
 of thought, beget, wisdom prevents. From a thousand snares 
 and treacherous allurements, from innumerable rocks and dan- 
 gerous surprises, from exceedingly many needless incumbrances 
 and vexatious toils of fruitless endeavor, she redeems and se- 
 cures us. More particularly, 
 
 III. Wisdom assures us we take the best course, and pro- 
 ceed as we ought. For by the same means we judge aright, 
 and reflecting on that judgment are assured we do so : as the
 
 THE PLEASANTNESS OF RELIGION. 7 
 
 same arguments by which we demonstrate a theorem convince 
 us we have demonstrated it, and the same light by which we 
 see an object makes us know we see it. And this assurance in 
 the progress of the action exceedingly pleases, and in the sequel 
 of it infinitely contents us. He that judges amiss, not per- 
 ceiving clearly the rectitude of his process, proceeds usually 
 with a dubious solicitude ; and at length, discovering his error, 
 condemns his own choice, and receives no other satisfaction but 
 of repentance. Like a traveller, who, being uncertain whether 
 he goes in the right way, wanders in continual perplexity, till 
 he be informed, and then too late, understanding his mistake, 
 with regret seeks to recover himself into it. But he that 
 knows his way, and is satisfied that it is the true one, makes on 
 merrily and carelessly, not doubting he shall in good time 
 arrive to his designed journey's end. Two troublesome mis- 
 chiefs therefore wisdom frees us from, the company of anxious 
 doubt in our actions, and the consequence of bitter repentance : 
 for no man can doubt of what he is sure, nor repent of what he 
 knows good. 
 
 IV. Wisdom begets in us a hope of success in our actions, 
 and is usually attended therewith. Now what is more delicious 
 than hope ? what more satisfactory than success ? That is like 
 the pursuit of a flying enemy, this like gathering the spoil ; 
 that like viewing the ripe corn, this like the joy of harvest 
 itself. And he that aims at a good end, and knows he uses 
 proper means to attain it, why should he despair of success, 
 since effects naturally follow their causes, and the Divine 
 Providence is wont to afibrd its concourse to such proceedings? 
 Beside that such well-grounded hope confirms resolution, and 
 quickens activity, which mainly conduce to the prosperous 
 issue of designs. Farther, 
 
 V. Wisdom prevents discouragement from the possibility of 
 ill success, yea and makes disappointment itself tolerable. 
 For if either the foresight of a possible miscarriage should is- 
 courage us from adventuring on action, or inculpable frustration 
 were intolerable, we should with no heart apply ourselves to 
 any thing ; there being no designs in this world, though founded 
 on the most sound advice, and prosecuted by the most diligent 
 endeavor, which may not be defeated, as depending on divers
 
 8 BARROW. — SERMON I. 
 
 causes above our power, and circumstances beyond our pros- 
 pect. The inconstant opinions, uncertain resolutions, mutable 
 affections, and fallacious pretences of men, on which the 
 accomplishment of most projects rely, may easily deceive and 
 disappoint us. The imperceptible course of nature exerting 
 itself in sudden tempests, diseases, and unlucky casualties, may 
 surprise us, and give an end to our businesses and lives toge- 
 ther. However, the irresistible power of the Divine Provi- 
 dence, guided by the unsearchable counsel of his will, we can 
 never be assured that it will not interpose, and hinder the effects 
 of our endeavors. Yet notwithstanding, when we act pru- 
 dently, we have no reason to be disheartened ; because having 
 good intentions, and using fit means, and having done our best, 
 as no deserved blame, so no considerable damage can arrive to 
 us : and though we find Almighty God hath crossed us, yet we 
 are sure he is not displeased with us. Which consideration, 
 wherewith wisdom furnishes us, will make the worst success 
 not only tolerable, but comfortable to us. For hence we have 
 reason to hope that the All-wise Goodness reserves a better 
 reward for us, and will sometime recompense not only the good 
 purposes we unhappily pursued, but also the unexpected dis- 
 appointment we patiently endured ; and that however we shall 
 be no losers in the end. Which discourse is mainly fortified 
 by considering how the best and wisest attempts have oft 
 miscarried. We see Moses, authorised by God's command, 
 directed by his counsel, and conducted by his hand, intended 
 to bring the Israelites into the land of Canaan ; yet by the 
 unreasonable incredulity and stubborn perverseness of that 
 people, he had his purpose frustrated. The holy prophets 
 afterward earnestly endeavored to contain the same people 
 within compass of obedience to the divine commands, and to 
 reduce them from their idolatrous and wicked courses ; yet 
 without correspondent effect. Our Saviour, by the example of 
 his holy life, continual instruction, and vehement exhortations, 
 assayed to procure a belief of, and submission to, his most 
 excellent doctrine ; yet how few ' believed his report,' and com- 
 plied with his discipline ! Yea, Almighty God himself often 
 complains how in a manner his designs were defeated, his 
 desires thwarted, his offers refused, his counsels rejected, his
 
 THE PLEASANTNESS OF RELIGION. D 
 
 expectations deceived. * Wherefore,' (saith he concerning his 
 vineyard,) ' when I looked it should bring forth grapes, brought 
 it forth wild grapes?' Isa. v. 4. And again, 'I have spread 
 out my hands all the day to a rebellious people :' Isa. Ixv. 2. 
 And again, ' I have even sent unto you all my prophets, daily 
 rising up early, and sending them : yet they hearkened not 
 unto me :' Jer. vii. 25. 26. Wherefore there is no good cause 
 we should be disheartened, or vexed, when success is wanting 
 to well-advised purposes. It is foolish and ill-grounded inten- 
 tions, and practices unwarrantable by good reason, that make 
 the undertakers solicitous of success, and being defeated leave 
 them disconsolate. Yea farther, 
 
 VI. Wisdom makes all the troubles, griefs, and pains inci- 
 dent to life, whether casual adversities, or natural afflictions, 
 easy and supportable ; by rightly valuing the importance, and 
 moderating the influence of them. It suffers not busy fancy to 
 alter the nature, amplify the degree, or extend the duration of 
 them, by representing them more sad, heavy, and remediless 
 than they truly are. It allows them no force beyond what 
 naturally and necessarily they have, nor contributes nourish- 
 ment to their increase. It keeps them at a due distance, not 
 permitting them to encroach on the soul, or to propagate their 
 influence beyond their proper sphere. It will not let external 
 mischances, as poverty and disgrace, to produce an inward 
 sense which is beyond their natural efficacy ; nor corporeal 
 affections of sickness and pain to disturb the mind, with which 
 they have nothing to do. The region of these malignant dis- 
 tempers being at most but the habit of the body, wisdom by 
 effectual antidotes repels them from the heart and inward parts 
 of the soul. If any thing, sin, and our unworthy miscarriages 
 toward God, should vex and discompose us ; yet this trouble 
 wisdom, by representing the divine goodness, and his tender 
 mercies in our ever blessed Redeemer, doth perfectly allay. And 
 as for all other adversities, it abates their noxious power by 
 showing us they are either merely imaginary, or very short and 
 temporary ; that they admit of remedy, or at most do not ex- 
 clude comfort, not wholly hindering the operations of the mind, 
 nor extinguishing its joys ; that they may have a profitable
 
 10 BARROW. — SERMON I. 
 
 use and pleasant end ; and, however, neither imply bad con- 
 science, nor induce obligation to punishment. For, 
 
 VII. Wisdom hath always a good conscience attending it, 
 that purest delight and richest cordial of the soul ; that brazen 
 wall, and impregnable fortress against both external assaults 
 and internal commotions ; that ' continual feast,' whereon the 
 mind, destitute of all other repast, with a never languishing 
 appetite may entertain itself ; that faithful witness and impar- 
 tial judge, whoever accuses, always acquitting the innocent 
 soul ; that certain friend, in no strait failing, in no adversity 
 deserting ; that sure refuge in all storms of fortune and perse- 
 cutions of disgrace ; which, as Solomon here notes, renders a 
 man's ' sleep sweet,' and undisturbed with fearful phantasms, his 
 heart light, and his steps secure ; and, if any thing, can make 
 the Stoical paradox good, and cause the wise man to smile in 
 extremity of torment ; arming his mind with an invincible cou- 
 rage, and infusing a due confidence into it, whereby he bears 
 up cheerfully against malicious reproach, undauntedly sustains 
 adversity, and triumphs over bad fortune. And this invalu- 
 able treasure the wise man is only capable of possessing ; who 
 certainly knows, and heartily approves the grounds on which 
 he proceeds ; whereas the fool, building his choice on blind 
 chance, or violent passion, or giddy fancy, or uncertain ex- 
 ample, not on the steady warrant of good reason, cannot avoid 
 being perplexed with suspicion of mistake, and so necessarily 
 is deprived of the comfort of a good conscience. 
 
 VIII. Wisdom confers a facility, expert readiness, and dex- 
 terity in action ; which is a very pleasant and commodious qua- 
 lity, and exceedingly sweetens activity. To do things with 
 difficulty, struggling, and immoderate contention, disheartens a 
 man, quells his courage, blunts the edge of his resolution, ren- 
 ders him sluggish and averse from business, though apprehended 
 never so necessary, and of great moment. These obstructions 
 wisdom removes, facilitating operations by directing the inten- 
 tion to ends possible and attainable, by suggesting fit means and 
 instruments to work by, by contriving right methods and courses 
 ■of process ; the mind by it being stored with variety of good 
 principles, sure rules, and happy expedients, reposed in the
 
 THE PLEASANTNESS OF RELIGION. 11 
 
 memory, and ready on all occasions to be produced and em- 
 ployed in practice. 
 
 IX. Wisdom begets a sound, healthful, and harmonious com- 
 plexion of the soul, disposing us with judgment to distinguish, 
 and with pleasure to relish savory and wholesome things, but 
 to nauseate and reject such as are ingrateful and noxious to us ; 
 thereby capacifying us to enjoy pleasantly and innocently all 
 those good things the divine goodness hath provided for and 
 consigned to us; whence to the soul proceeds all that comfort, 
 joy, and vigor, which results to the body from a good constitu- 
 tion and perfect health. 
 
 X. Wisdom acquaints us with ourselves, our own temper 
 and constitution, our propensions and passions, our habitudes 
 and capacities ; a thing not only of mighty advantage, but of 
 infinite pleasure and content to us. No man in the world less 
 knows a fool than himself; nay, he is more than ignorant, for 
 he constantly errs in the point, taking himself for, and demean- 
 ing himself as toward another, a better, a wiser, and abler man 
 than he is. He hath wonderful conceits of his own qualities 
 and faculties ; he affects commendations incompetent to him ; 
 he soars at employment surpassing his ability to manage. No 
 comedy can represent a mistake more odd and ridiculous than 
 his ; for he wanders, and stares, and hunts after, but never can 
 find nor discern himself; but always encounters with a false 
 shadow instead thereof, which he passionately hugs and ad- 
 mires. But a wise man, by constant observation and impartial 
 reflexion on himself, grows very familiar with himself: he per- 
 ceives his own inclinations, which, if bad, he strives to alter and 
 correct; if good, he cherishes and corroborates them : he ap- 
 prehends the matters he is fitting for and capable to manage, 
 neither too mean and unworthy of him, nor too high and diffi- 
 cult for him ; and those applying his care to, he transacts easily, 
 cheerfully, and successfully. 80 being neither puff"ed up with 
 vain and overweening opinion, nor dejected with heartless diffi- 
 dence of himself; neither admiring, nor despising ; neither irk- 
 somely hating, nor fondly loving himself; he continues in good 
 humor, maintains a sure friendship and fair correspondence with 
 himself, and rejoices in the retirement and private conversation
 
 12 BARROW, — SERMON I. 
 
 with his own thoughts : whence flows a pleasure and satisfaction 
 unexpressible. 
 
 XI. Wisdom procures and preserves a constant favor and fair 
 respect of men, purchases a good name, and upholds reputation 
 in the world : which things are naturally desirable, commodious 
 for life, encouragements to good, and preventive of many incon- 
 veniences. The composed frame of mind, uniform and comely 
 demeanor, compliant and inoffensive conversation, fair and 
 punctual dealing, considerate motions, and dexterous addresses 
 of wise men naturally beget esteem and affection in those that 
 observe them. Neither than these things is there any thing 
 more commendable to human regard. As symmetry and har- 
 mony to the animal senses, so delectable is an even temper of 
 soul and orderly tenor of actions to rational apprehensions. 
 Folly is freakish and humorous, impertinent and obstreperous, 
 inconstant and inconsistent, peevish and exceptions; and con- 
 sequently fastidious to society, and productive of aversation 
 and disrespect. But the wise man is stable in his ways, conso- 
 nant to himself, suiting his actions to his words, and those to 
 his principles, and all to the rule of right reason ; so that you 
 may know where to find him, and how to deal with him, and 
 may easily please him, which makes his acquaintance accept- 
 able, and his person valuable : beside that real worth of itself 
 commands respect, and extorts veneration from me», and usually 
 prosperity waits on his well-advised attempts, which exceed- 
 ingly adorn and advance the credit of the undertaker : however, 
 if he fail sometime, his usual deportment salves his repute, and 
 easily makes it credible it was no fault of his, but of his for- 
 tune. If a fool prosper, the honor is attributed to propitious 
 chance; if he miscarry, to his own ill management : but the 
 intire glory of happy undertakings crowns the head of wisdom ; 
 while the disgrace of unlucky events falls otherwhere. His 
 light, like that of the sun, cannot totally be eclipsed; it may 
 be dimmed, but never extinguished, and always maintains a day, 
 though overclouded with misfortune. Who less esteems the 
 famous African captain for being overthrown in that last fatal 
 battle, wherein he is said to have shown the best skill, and yet 
 endured the worst of success ? Who contemns Cato and other
 
 THE PLEASANTNESS OF RELIGION. 13 
 
 the grave citizens of Rome for embracing the just but impros* 
 perous cause of the commonwealth ? A wise man's circum- 
 stances may vary and fluctuate like the floods about a rock ; 
 but he persists unmoveably the same, and his reputation un- 
 shaken ; for he can always render a good account of his actions, 
 and by reasonable apology elude the assaults of reproach. 
 
 XII. Wisdom instructs us to examine, compare, and rightly 
 to value the objects that court our aftections, and challenge our 
 care ; and thereby regulates our passions, and moderates our 
 endeavors, which begets a pleasant serenity and peaceable tran- 
 quillity of mind. For when, being deluded with false shows, 
 and relying on ill-grounded presumptions, we highly esteem, 
 passionately aff"ect, and eagerly pursue things of little worth in 
 themselves, or concernment to us, as we unhandsomely prostitute 
 our affections, and prodigally misspend our time, and vainly 
 lose our labor ; so the event not answering our expectation, 
 our minds thereby are confounded, disturbed, and distempered. 
 But when, guided by right reason, we conceive great esteem 
 of, and zealously are enamored with, and vigorously strive to 
 attain things of excellent worth and weighty consequence; the 
 conscience of having well placed our aflfections, and well em- 
 ployed our pains, and the experience of fruits corresponding to 
 our hopes, ravishes our mind with unexpressible content. And 
 so it is : present appearance and vulgar conceit ordinarily im- 
 pose on our fancies, disguising things with a deceitful varnish, 
 and representing those that are vainest with the greatest ad- 
 vantage ; whilst the noblest objects, being of a more subtile 
 and spiritual nature, like fairest jewels inclosed in a homely 
 box, avoid thenoticeof gross sense, and pass undiscerned by us. 
 But the light of wisdom, as it unmasks specious imposture, and 
 bereaves it of its false colors ; so it penetrates into the retire- 
 ments of true excellency, and reveals its genuine lustre. For 
 example, corporeal pleasure, which so powerfully allures and 
 enchants us, wisdom declares that it is but a present, momen- 
 tary, and transient satisfaction of brutish sense, dimming the 
 light, sullying the beauty, impairing the vigor, and restraining 
 the activity of the mind ; diverting from better operations, and 
 indisposing it to enjoy purer delights ; leaving no comfortable 
 relish or gladsome memory behind it, but often followed with
 
 14 BARROW. — SERMON I. 
 
 bitterness, regret, and disgrace. That the profit the world so 
 greedily gapes after is but a possession of trifles, not valuable 
 in themselves, nor rendering the masters of them so ; accidentally 
 obtained, and promiscuously enjoyed by all sorts, but com- 
 monly by the worst of men ; difficultly acquired, and easily 
 lost ; however, to be used but for a very short time, and then 
 to be resigned into uncertain hands. That the honor men so dote 
 on is ordinarily but the difference of a few petty circumstances, 
 a peculiar name or title, a determinate place, a distinguishing 
 ensign ; things of only imaginary excellence, derived from 
 chance, and conferring no advantage, except from some little 
 influence they have on the arbitrary opinion and fickle humor 
 of the people ; complacence in which is vain, and reliance on 
 it dangerous. That power and dominion, which men so im- 
 patiently struggle for, are but necessary evils introduced to re- 
 strain the bad tempers of men ; most evil to them that enjoy 
 them ; requiring tedious attendance, distracting care, and vexa- 
 tious toil ; attended with frequent disappointment, opprobrious 
 censure, and dangerous envy ; having such real burdens, and 
 slavish incumbrances, sweetened only by superficial pomps, 
 strained obsequiousness, some petty privileges and exemptions 
 scarce worth the mentioning. That wit and parts, of which 
 men make such ostentation, are but natural endowments, 
 commendable only in order to use, apt to engender pride and 
 vanity, and hugely dangerous, if abused or misemployed. What 
 should I mention beauty, that fading toy ; or bodily strength 
 and activity, qualities so palpably inconsiderable? On these 
 and such like flattering objects, so adored by vulgar opinion, 
 wisdom exercising severe and impartial judgment, and perceiv- 
 ing in them no intrinsic excellence, no solid content springing 
 from them, no perfection thence accruing to the mind, no high 
 reward allotted to them, no security to the future condition, or 
 other durable advantages proceeding from them ; it concludes 
 they deserve not any high opinion of the mind, nor any vehe- 
 ment passion of the soul, nor any laborious care to be employed 
 on them, and moderates our aft'ections toward them : it frees 
 us from anxious desire of them ; from being transported with 
 excessive joy in the acquisition of them ; from being over- 
 whelmed with disconsolate sorrow at the missing of them, or
 
 THE PLEASANTNESS OF RELIGION. 15 
 
 parting with them ; from repining and envying at those who 
 have better success than ourselves in the procuring them ; from 
 immoderate toil in getting, and care in preserving them : and 
 so delivering us from all these unquiet anxieties of thought, 
 tumultuous perturbations of passion, and tedious vexations of 
 body, it maintains our minds in a cheerful calm, quiet indiffe- 
 rency, and comfortable liberty. On the other side, things of 
 real worth and high concernment, that produce great satisfac- 
 tion to the mind, and are mainly conducible to our happiness, 
 such as are a right understanding and strong sense of our obli- 
 gations to Almighty God, and relations to men, a sound tem- 
 per and complexion of mind, a virtuous disposition, a capacity 
 to discharge the duties of our places, a due qualification to 
 enjoy the happiness of the other world ; these and such like 
 things, by discovering their nature and the effects resulting from 
 them, it engages us highly to esteem, ardently to affect, and 
 industriously to pursue ; so preventing the inconveniences that 
 follow the want of them, and conveying the benefits arising 
 from the possession of them. 
 
 XIII. Wisdom distinguishes the circumstances, limits the 
 measures, determines the modes, appoints the fit seasons of 
 action ; so preserving decorum and order, the parent of peace, 
 and preventing confusion, the mother of iniquity, strife, and 
 disquiet. It is in the business of human life as in a building; 
 a due proportion of bigness, a fit situation of place, a cor- 
 respondency of shape, and suitableness of color, is to be ob- 
 served between the parts thereof : a defect in any of which re- 
 quisites, though the materials hap to be choice and excellent, 
 makes the whole fabric deformed and ugly to judicious appre- 
 hension. The best actions, if they swell, and exceed their due 
 measure, if they be unskilfully misplaced, if in uncouth manner 
 performed, they lose their quality, and turn both to the dis- 
 grace and disadvantage of life. It is commendable to pray ; 
 but they that would always be performing that duty, by their 
 absurd devotion procured to themselves the title of heretics ; 
 and they that will stand praying in places of public concourse, 
 deserved our Saviour's reprehensions ; and those men who, 
 against the custom and ordinary use, would needs pray with 
 their faces covered, you know St. Paul insinuates of them, that
 
 16 BARROW. — SERMON I. 
 
 they were fond and contentious persons. Friendly admonition 
 is very laudable, and of rare use ; but being on all occasions 
 immoderately used, or in public society so as to encroach on 
 modesty, or endamage reputation ; or when the person admo- 
 nished is otherwise employed, and attent on his business ; or 
 being delivered in an imperiously insulting way, or in harsh and 
 opprobrious language ; it becomes unsavory and odious, and 
 both in show and effect resembles a froward, malicious excep- 
 tiousness. It were infinite to compute in how many instances 
 want of due order, measure, and manner, do spoil and incom- 
 modate action. It is wisdom that applies remedy to these 
 mischiefs. Things must be compared to and arbitrated by her 
 standard, or else they will contain something of monstrous 
 enormity ; either strutting in unwieldy bulk, or sinking in de- 
 fective scantness. If she do not fashion and model circum- 
 stances, they will sit ugly on the things that wear them ; if she 
 do not temper the colors, and describe the lineaments, the 
 draught of practice will be but rude and imperfect, and little 
 resemble the true patterns of duty : but if she interpose and 
 perform her part, all things will appear conformable, neat, and 
 delicate. 
 
 XIV. Wisdom discovers our relations, duties, and concern- 
 ments, in respect of men, with the natural grounds of them; 
 thereby both qualifying and inclining us to the discharge of 
 them : whence exceeding convenience, pleasure, and content 
 ensues. By it we understand we are parts and members of the 
 great body, the universe ; and are therefore concerned in the 
 good management of it, and are thereby obliged to procure its 
 order and peace, and by no irregular undertaking to disturb or 
 discompose it ; which makes us honest and peaceable men : 
 that we proceed from the same primitive stock, are children of 
 the same father, and partake of the same blood with all men ; 
 are endowed with like faculties of mind, passions of soul, 
 shape of body, and sense of things : that we have equally 
 implanted in our original constitution inclinations to love, 
 pi*'y> gratitude, sociableness, quiet, joy, reputation : that we 
 have an indispensable need and impatient desire of company, 
 assistance, comfort, and relief; that therefore it is accord- 
 ing to the design of nature, and agreeable to re;ison, that
 
 THE PLEASANTNESS OF RELIGION. 17 
 
 to those, to whom our natural condition by so many bands of 
 cognation, similitude, and mutual necessitude, hath knit and 
 conjoined us, we should bear a kind respect and tender affec- 
 tion ; should cheerfully concur in undergoing the common bur- 
 dens ; should heartily wish and industriously promote their 
 good, assist them in accomplishing their reasonable desires, 
 thankfully requite the courtesies received from them, congra- 
 tulate and rejoice with them in their prosperity, comfort them 
 in their distresses, and, as we are able, relieve them ; however, 
 tenderly compassionate their disappointments, miseries, and 
 sorrows. This renders us kind and courteous neighbors, sweet 
 and grateful companions. It represents unto us the dreadful 
 effects and insupportable mischiefs arising from breach of faith, 
 contravening the obligations of solemn pacts, infringing public 
 laws, deviating from the received rules of equity, violating 
 promises, and interrupting good correspondence among men ; 
 by which considerations it engages us to be good citizens, obe- 
 dient subjects, just dealers, and faithful friends. It minds us 
 of the blindness, impotence, and levity, the proneness to mis- 
 take and misbehavior that human nature necessarily is subject 
 to ; deserving rather our commiseration than anger or hatred, 
 which prompts us to bear the infirmities of our brethren, to be 
 gentle in censure, to be insensible of petty affronts, to pardon 
 injuries, to be patient, exorable, and reconcilable to those 
 that give us greatest cause of offence. It teaches us the good 
 may, but the evil of our neighbor can in no wise advantage us ; 
 that from the suffering of any man, simply considered, no 
 benefit can accrue, nor natural satisfaction arise to us ; and 
 that therefore it is a vain, base, brutish, and unreasonable thing, 
 for any cause whatsoever, to desire or delight in the grief, pain, 
 or misery of our neighbor, to hate or envy him, or insult over 
 him, or devise mischief to him, or prosecute revenge on him ; 
 which makes us civil, noble, and placable enemies, or rather 
 no enemies at all. So that wisdom is in effect the genuine 
 parent of all moral and political virtue, justice, and honesty; 
 as Solomon says in her person, * I lead in the way of righ- 
 teousness,' and ' in the midst of the paths of judgment:' Prov. 
 viii. 20. And how sweet these are in the practice, how com- 
 fortable in the consequences, the testimony of continual expe-
 
 18 BARROW. — SERMON I. 
 
 rience, and the unanimous consent of all wise men sufficiently 
 declare. But farther, 
 
 XV. The principal advantage of wisdom is, its acquainting 
 us with the nature and reason of true religion, and affording 
 convictive arguments to persuade to the practice of it ; which 
 is accompanied with the purest delight, and attended with the 
 most solid content imaginable. I say, the nature of religion, 
 wherein it consists, and what it requires; the mistake of which 
 produceth daily so many mischiefs and inconveniences in the 
 world, and exposes so good a name to so much reproach. It 
 showeth it consisteth not in fair professions and glorious pre- 
 tences, but in real practice ; not in a pertinacious adherence to 
 any sect or party, but in a sincere love of goodness, and dislike 
 of naughtiness, wherever discovering itself; not in vain osten- 
 tations and florishes of outward performance, but in an inward 
 good complexion of mind, exerting itself in works of true 
 devotion and charity; not in a nice orthodoxy, or politic sub- 
 jection of our judgments to the peremptory dictates of men, but 
 in a sincere love of truth, in a hearty approbation of, and com- 
 pliance with, the doctrines fundamentally good, and necessary 
 to be believed ; not in harsh censuring and virulently inveighing 
 against others, but in careful amending our own ways ; not in 
 a peevish crossness and obstinate repugnancy to received laws 
 and customs, but in a quiet and peaceable submission to the 
 express laws of God, and lawful commands of man ; not in a 
 furious zeal for or against trivial circumstances, but in a con- 
 scionable practising the substantial parts of religion ; not in a 
 frequent talking or contentious disputing about it, but in a 
 ready observance of the unquestionable rules and prescripts of 
 it : in a word, that religion consists in nothing else but doing 
 what becomes our relation to God, in a conformity or similitude 
 to his nature, and in a willing obedience to his holy will : to 
 which by potent incentives it allures and persuades us ; by 
 representing to us his transcendently glorious attributes, con- 
 spicuoulsy displayed in the frame, order, and government of the 
 world : that wonderful Power, which erected this great and 
 goodly fabric; that incomprehensible Wisdom, which preserves 
 it in a constant harmony ; that immense Goodness, which hath 
 so carefully provided for the various necessities, delights, and
 
 THE PLEASANTNESS OF RELIGION. 19 
 
 comforts of its innumerable inhabitants. I say, by representing 
 those infinitely glorious perfections, it engages us with highest 
 respect to esteem, reverence, and honor him. Also, by minding 
 us of our manifold obligations to him, our receiving being, life, 
 reason, sense, all the faculties, powers, excellencies, privileges, 
 and commodities of our natures from him ; of his tender care 
 and loving providence continually supporting and protecting 
 us; of his liberal beneficence, patient indulgence, and earnest 
 desire of our good and happiness, by manifold expressions 
 evidently manifested towards us ; it inflames us with ardent 
 love, and obliges us to officious gratitude toward him. Also, 
 by declaring the necessary and irreconcilable contrariety of his 
 nature to all impurity and perverseness, his peerless majesty, 
 his irresistible power, and his all-seeing knowlege, it begets an 
 awful dread and a devout fear of him. By discovering him 
 from his infinite benignity willing, and from his unlimited 
 power only able to supply our needs, relieve us in distresses, 
 protect us from dangers, and confer any valuable benefit on us, 
 it engenders faith, and encourages us to rely on him. By 
 revealing to us his supererainent sovereignty, uncontrollable 
 dominion, and unquestionable authority over us ; together with 
 the admirable excellency, wisdom, and equity of his laws, so 
 just and reasonable in themselves, so suitable to our nature, so 
 conducible to our good, so easy and practicable, so sweet and 
 comfortable : it powerfully inclines, and by a gentle force as it 
 were constrains us to obedience. By such efficacious induce- 
 ments wisdom urges us to all duties of religion, and withal 
 surely directs us (as I before said) wherein it consists ; teach- 
 ing us to have right and worthy apprehensions of the divine 
 nature, to which our devotion, if true and good, must be suited 
 and conformed : and so it frees us, as from irreligion and pro- 
 fane neglect of God, so from fond superstitions, the sources of 
 so much evil to mankind. For he that wisely hath considered 
 the wisdom, goodness, and power of God, cannot imagine God 
 can with a regardless eye overlook his presumptuous contempts 
 of his laws, or endure him to proceed in an outrageous defiance 
 of heaven, to continue hurting himself, or injuring hisneighbor ; 
 nor can admit unreasonable terrors, or entertain suspicious 
 conceits of God, as of an imperious master, or implacable
 
 20 BARROW, — SERMON I. 
 
 tyrant over him, exacting impossible performances from, or 
 delighting in the fatal miseries of his creatures ; nor can sup- 
 pose him pleased with hypocritical shows, and greatly taken 
 with superficial courtships of ceremonious address ; or that he 
 can in any wise favor our fiery zeals, fierce passions, or unjust 
 partialities about matter of opinion and ceremony ; or can do 
 otherwise than detest all factious, harsh, uncharitable, and 
 revengeful proceedings, of what nature, or on what ground 
 soever ; or that he can be so inconsistent with himself as to 
 approve any thing but what is like himself, that is, righteous- 
 ness, sincerity, and beneficence. 
 
 Lastly, wisdom attracts the favor of God, purchaseth a glorious 
 reward, and secureth perpetual felicity to us. ' For God loveth 
 none but him that dwelleth with wisdom :' Wisd. vii. 28. And, 
 ' glorious is the fruit of good labors, and the root of wisdom shall 
 never fall away :' Id. iii. 15. And, ' happy is the man that 
 findeth wisdom :' and ' whoso findeth her, findeth life, and 
 shall obtain favor of the Lord :' Prov. iii. 13. viii. 35. These 
 are the words of wise Solomon in the book of Wisdom and in 
 the Proverbs. God loveth her as most agreeable to his nature ; 
 as resembling him; as an offspring, beam, and efflux of that 
 wisdom which founded the earth, and established the heavens ; 
 as that which begetteth honor, love, and obedience to his com- 
 mands, and truly glorifies him ; and as that which promotes the 
 good of his creatures, which he earnestly desires. And the 
 paths she leads in are such as directly tend to the promised in- 
 heritance of joy and bliss. 
 
 Thus have I simply and plainly presented you with part of 
 what my meditation suggested on this subject : it remains that 
 we endeavor to obtain this excellent endowment of soul, by the 
 faithful exercise of our reason, careful observation of things, 
 diligent study of the divine law, watchful reflexion on ourselves, 
 virtuous and religious practice ; but especially by imploring the 
 divine influence, the original spring of light and fountain of all 
 true knowlege, following St. James's advice ; ' If any man lack 
 wisdom, let him ask it of God, who giveth freely.' Therefore, 
 O everlasting Wisdom, the Maker, Redeemer, and Governor 
 of all things, let some comfortable beams from thy great body 
 of heavenly light descend on us, to illuminate our dark minds.
 
 THE PLEASANTNESS OF RELIGION. 21 
 
 and quicken our dead hearts ; to inflame us with ardent love 
 unto thee, and to direct our steps in obedience to thy laws, 
 through the gloomy shades of this world, into that region of 
 eternal light and bliss where thou reignest in perfect glory and 
 majesty, one God ever blessed, world without end. Amen.
 
 22 • SUMMARY OF 
 
 SUMMARY OF SERMON II. 
 
 1 TIMOTHY, CHAP. IV. — VERSE 8. 
 
 General observations on the devotedness to profit exhi- 
 bited by men, in the immediate scope of their designs and aim 
 of their actions. The practice being so universal, and men 
 being reasonable creatures, it cannot proceed from mere brutal 
 dotage ; but there must be some fair color or semblance of 
 reason which carries them on this way. The reason is obvious 
 enough ; the very name of profit implies it, signifying that 
 which is useful, or conducive to purposes really or seemingly 
 good. The gain of money, or of something equivalent to it, why 
 this is specially termed profit explained. 
 
 If therefore a project should be proposed to us very feasible 
 and probable to succeed, in the pursuit of which we might 
 assuredly obtain great profit, we should only act consistently 
 w ith ourselves and our usual manner of acting, if we readily 
 embraced it. Such a project is proposed by a very skilful 
 judge of such things in the text; one which will bring to us 
 gains unspeakably great, in comparison of which all other 
 designs of men are unprofitable, or even detrimental. 
 
 This project briefly stated is to be religious or pious ; that is, 
 in our minds stedfastly to believe on God, in our hearts 
 earnestly to love and reverence him, and throughout our prac- 
 tice diligently to observe his laws : this is recommended by 
 St. Paul, as 'profitable for all things ; and this itwillbe shown 
 is really so. 
 
 A main obstruction to the practice of piety is, that it has 
 been taken not for a friend, but rather for an enemy to profit ;
 
 SERMON II. 23 
 
 and there are many semblances which countenance such an 
 opinion : this instanced in religion seeming to smother or to 
 slacken the industry and alacrity of men with regard to 
 worldly profit, by charging them to be content with a little, 
 and careful for nothing, by diverting their affections from 
 worldly affairs, &c. 
 
 Also in our observing that bad men often thrive by impious 
 courses, while good men seem to suffer for their very goodness. 
 This also furthers the prejudice, that some persons, void of 
 true piety, mere dabblers in religion, do not from their slight 
 and superficial performances feel such returns as they expected. 
 
 To these considerations, thus disadvantageous to piety, may 
 be added, that the constant certain profits which proceed from 
 it, are not so gross and palpable that men, vitiated in their 
 tastes, and blinded by error, can discern their worth, or relish 
 their sweetness. 
 
 For destroying which prejudices, and recommending St. 
 Paul's project, some of the innumerable advantages are con- 
 sidered, by which the great profitableness of piety will appear : 
 and first those which are more universal in their nature ; next 
 those which seem to be more particular, though their influence 
 is very extensive. 
 
 I. First then, piety is exceedingly useful for all sorts of men, 
 in all capacities, states, and relations, fitting them to discharge 
 all their duties in a proper, just, and decent manner. This 
 shown in the peculiar duties of superiors, inferiors, princes, 
 subjects, parents, children, husbands, wives, and friends. It 
 renders all men faithful to their trusts, just and punctual in 
 their dealings, orderly and courteous in their behavior. It 
 ties all relations more fastly, augments all endearments, and 
 enforces all obligations by the firm bonds of conscience, &c. 
 
 In consequence of those practices which spring from it, 
 piety removes oppression, violence, faction, murmurings, out of 
 the state; schisms and scandal out of the church; pride.
 
 24 SUMMARY OF 
 
 luxury, and sycophancy out of the court ; corruption out of 
 judicatures ; tumults out of the street; brawlings and jealousies 
 out of families ; extortion out of trade ; strife, emulation, and 
 foul language out of conversation, &e. It is the best prop and 
 guard of government ; for it settles the body politic in a sound 
 constitution of health, and firmly cements all the parts 
 thereof: it is therefore the interest of all men, who desire 
 to live well, and would fain see good days, especially of the 
 great and those in authority, to promote piety as the best 
 instrument of their security : this topic enlarged on. 
 
 II. Secondly, piety fits a man for all conditions, qualifying 
 him to pass through them with the best advantage, wisely, 
 cheerfully, and safely. Is a man prosperous, high, or wealthy ? 
 Piety guards him from all the mischiefs incident to that con- 
 dition, and disposes him to enjoy its best advantages : this 
 point enlarged on. Is he poor and low in the world ? Piety 
 improves and sweetens even that state, keeping his spirits 
 above dejection, and freeing him from all grievous anxiety ; 
 showing him that although he may seem to have but little, yet 
 he has a certain succor and never-failing supply in God's good 
 providence, &c. 
 
 Difference between a pious and an impious man, under simi- 
 lar circumstances of adversity, pointed out. Example of our 
 Lord's Apostles under their ministry proposed to us. 
 
 III. Thirdly, piety virtually comprises within itself all 
 other profits, serving the designs of tliem all : whatever kind of 
 desirable good we can hope to find from any other profit, we 
 may be assured to find from it. He that hath it, shown to be 
 ipso /flcfo rich, inti tied to immense treasures of the most pre- 
 cious wealth; also to be in truth most honorable. The pious 
 man shown to be most powerful. Shown also to enjoy the only 
 true pleasures, hearty, pure, solid, and durable. As for 
 safety, the pious man hath it most absolute and sure, resting 
 under the shadow of God's wings. As for liberty, he most
 
 SERMON IT. 25 
 
 intirely and truly enjoys it, for he alone is free from captivity 
 to sin and Satan : with respect to ease, he alone knows it, 
 having his mind exempt from the distraction of care, the 
 disorder of passion, the anguish of conscience, &c. As for 
 knowlege, he alone attains it to any purpose. Evil men, says 
 the wise man himself, understand not judgment : but they that 
 seek the Lord understand all things. Farther, the pious man 
 is enabled and disposed most to benefit and oblige others : this 
 point enlarged on. Thus all the fruits and consequences of 
 profit, which engage men so eagerly to pursue it, do in the best 
 kind and highest degree result from piety. 
 
 As for all other profits unconnected with it, they are but 
 imaginary and counterfeit, yielding only painted shows instead 
 of substantial fruit. This instanced in the seeking of profit 
 from bare worldly wealth — from worldly power — from the 
 enjoyment of pleasure. If the mere worldly man fancies 
 safety, he deludes himself; if he thirst for liberty, he will be 
 frustrated ; ease he cannot obtain under the burthen of sin, of 
 care and trouble : if he means to acquire wisdom, he will find 
 that wisdom and impiety are incompatible things : in fine, he 
 will be mistaken and disappointed in all his projects, whosoever 
 fancies any true profit without piety : this point enlarged on. 
 
 IV. Four^;hly, that commendation is not to be omitted 
 which is nearest at hand, and suggested by St. Paul himself, 
 to back his assertion concerning the universal profitableness 
 of piety ; for, says he, it hath the promise of the life that now 
 is, and of that which is to come. 
 
 As for the blessings of this life, though God has not promised 
 to load the godly man Vvith affluence of worldly things, to 
 pamper the flesh and gratify the wanton fancy, &c. ; yet there 
 is no good thing which a man naturally desires, or reasonably 
 can wish for, which is not in express terms proposed as a 
 reward, or as a result of piety. Extracts from holy writ. This 
 stated to be a liberal dispensation even of temporal good 
 
 BAR. VOL. I. B
 
 26 SUMMARY OF SERMON II. 
 
 things : it is indeed more frequently, abundantly, and explictly 
 promised to God's ancient people, as an ingredient in the cove- 
 nant made with him, and a recompense for an external perform- 
 ance of their law. The gospel does not so clearly propound it, 
 nor so much insist on it, as it does not principally belong to 
 the evangelical covenant ; yet as the celestial blessings, though 
 not openly tendered in the Jewish law, were mystically 
 couched therein, and cloSely designed for the spiritual and 
 hearty practisers of religion ; so is the collation of temporal 
 accommodations to be understood as belonging to all pious 
 Christians. There is a codicil, as it were, annexed to the New 
 Testament, in which God signifies his intention to furnish his 
 children with all that is needful and convenient for them : his 
 bounty does not fail us even here. This shown from various 
 texts of Scripture. Thus is piety profitable as having the 
 promises of this life ; but infinitely more so is it as having the 
 promises of the life to come, or as procuring a title to those 
 incomparably more excellent blessings of the other world, that 
 incorruptible, undejiled, and never fading inheritance, re- 
 served for us in heaven: this topic enlarged on. Infinitely 
 profitable then must that be which procureth those things for 
 us ; and in these respects great reason had St. Paul to say, 
 that godliness is profitable for all things.
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 27 
 
 SERMON II. 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 
 
 I TIMOTHY, CHAP. IV. — VERSE 8. 
 
 : But godliness is profitable for all things. 
 
 How generally men, with most unanimous consent, are 
 devoted to profit, as to the immediate scope of their designs 
 and aim of their doings, if with the slightest attention we view 
 what is acted on this theatre of human affairs, we cannot but 
 discern. All that we see men so very serious and industrious 
 about, which we call business ; that which they trudge for in 
 the streets, which they work or wait for in the shops, which 
 they meet and crowd for at the exchange, which they sue for 
 in the hall, and solicit for at the court, which they plough and 
 dig for, which they march and fight for in the field, which 
 they travel for at land, and sail for (among rocks and storms) 
 on the sea, which they plod for in the closet, and dispute for in 
 the schools, (yea, may we not add, which they frequently pray 
 for and preach for in the church ?) what is it but profit ?* Is 
 it not this apparently, for which men so eagerly contest and 
 quarrel, so bitterly envy and emulate, so fiercely clamor and 
 inveigh, so cunningly supplant and undermine one another; 
 which stuffeth their hearts with mutual hatred and spite, which 
 tippeth their tongues with slander and reproach, which often 
 embrueth their hands with blood and slaughter; for which 
 they expose their lives and limbs to danger, for which they 
 undergo grievous toils and drudgeries, for which they distract 
 
 * 
 
 ^•eD, Su ojSoAo) ais ^670 Swacrdov Travraxov. Aristoph. Plut.
 
 28 BARROW. — SERMON II. 
 
 their mind with cares, and pierce their heart with sorrows ; to 
 which they sacrifice their present ease and content, yea, to 
 which commonly they prostitute their honor and conscience ? 
 This, if you mark it, is the great mistress, which is with so 
 passionate rivality every where wooed and courted ; this is the 
 common mark which all eyes aim and all endeavors strike at ; 
 this the hire which men demand for all their pains, the prize 
 they hope for all their combats, the harvest they seek from all 
 the year's assiduous labor. This is the bait by which you may 
 inveigle most men any whither ; and the most certain sign by 
 which you may prognosticate what any man will do : for mark 
 where his profit is, there will he be. This some professedly and 
 with open face, others slily and under thin veils of pretence, 
 (under guise of friendship, of love to public good, of loyalty, 
 of religious zeal ;) some directly and in a plain track, others 
 obliquely and by subtile trains ; some by sordid and base 
 means, others in ways more cleanly and plausible ; some 
 gravely and modestly, others wildly and furiously ; all (very 
 few excepted) in one manner or another, do clearly in most of 
 their proceedings level and drive at.* 
 
 This practice then being so general, and seeing that men are 
 reasonable creatures, that it is so cannot surely proceed from 
 mere brutishness or dotage ; there must be some fair color or 
 semblance of reason, which draweth men into, and carrieth 
 them forward in this way. The reason indeed is obvious and 
 evident enough ; the very name of profit implieth it, signifying 
 that which is useful or conducible to purposes really or seem- 
 ingly good. The gain of money, or of somewhat equivalent 
 thereto, is therefore specially termed profit, because it readily 
 supplieth necessity, furnisheth convenience, feedeth pleasure, 
 satisfieth fancy and curiosity, promoteth ease and liberty, sup- 
 porteth honor and dignity, procureth power, dependencies, and 
 friendships, rendereth a man somebody considerable in the 
 world; in fine, enableth to do good, or to perform works of 
 beneficence and charity. Profit is therefore so much affected 
 
 * Prima fere vota, et cunctis nofissima templis, 
 Divitiap ut crescant, &c. — Juv. Sat. x. 
 Omnes ad afrectuni atqne appctitum utilitatis suae nafurae ipsius 
 mugisterio atque impulsione ducuntur. — Salv. ad Eccl. Cath. 2.
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 29 
 
 and pursued, because it is, or doth seem, apt to procure or 
 promote some good desirable to us. 
 
 If therefore a project should be proposed to us very feasible 
 and probable to succeed, in pursuance whereof assuredly we 
 might obtain great profit ; niethinks in consistence with our- 
 selves, and conformably to our usual manner of acting, we 
 should be very ready to embrace and execute it. Such a project 
 it is which in my text, by a very trusty voucher and skilful 
 judge of such things, and one who had himself fully experimented 
 it, is proposed : which in itself is very practicable, so that any 
 of us may, if we have a mind to it and will be at the pains, 
 throughly compass and carry it on ; which will exceedingly 
 turn to account, and bring in gains unto us unspeakably vast ; in 
 comparison whereto all other designs which men with so much 
 care and toil do pursue, are very unprofitable or detrimental, 
 yielding but shadows of profit, or bringing real damage to us. 
 
 It is briefly this, to be religious or pious ; that is, in our minds 
 stedfastly to believe on God (such as nature in some measure, 
 and revelation more clearly, declareth him,) in our hearts ear- 
 nestly to love and reverence him, through all our practice sin- 
 cerely and diligently to observe his laws. This is it which St. 
 Paul affirmeth to be ' profitable for all things,' and which it is 
 my intent, by God's help, to recommend unto you as such ; 
 demonstrating it really to be so, by representing some of those 
 numberless benefits and advantages which accrue from it, ex- 
 tending to all conditions and capacities of men, to all states, all 
 seasons, and in effect to all affairs of life. 
 
 It hath been ever a main obstruction to the practice of piety, 
 that it hath been taken for no friend, or rather for an enemy to 
 profit; as both unprofitable and prejudicial to its followers ; 
 and many semblances there are countenancing that opinion. 
 For religion seemeth to smother or to slacken the industry and 
 alacrity of men in following profit many ways : by charging 
 them to be content with a little, and careful for nothing ; by 
 diverting their affections and cares from worldly aft'airs to mat- 
 ters of another nature, place, and time, prescribing in the first 
 place to seek things spiritual, heavenly, and future ; by dispa- 
 raging all secular wealth, as a thing, in comparison to virtue 
 and spiritual goods, very mean and inconsiderable ; by check-
 
 30 BARROW. — SERMON II. 
 
 ing greedy desires and aspiring thoughts after it ; by debarring 
 the most ready ways of getting it, (violence, exaction, fraud, 
 and flattery,) yea, straitening tlie best ways, eager care and 
 diligence; by commending strict justice in all cases, and always 
 taking part with conscience when it clasheth with interest ; by 
 paring away the largest uses of wealth, in the prohibition of its 
 free enjoyment to pride or pleasure ; by injoining liberal com- 
 munication thereof in ways of charity and mercy ; by engaging 
 men to expose their goods sometimes to imminent hazard, some- 
 times to certain loss ; obliging them to forsake all things, and 
 to embrace poverty for its sake. 
 
 It favoreth this conceit to observe that often bad men by 
 impious courses do appear to thrive and prosper ; while good 
 men seem for their goodness to suflfer, or to be nowise visibly 
 better for it, enduring much hardship and distress. 
 
 It furthereth the prejudice that some persons void of true piety 
 or imperfectly good, (some dabblers in religion,) do not from 
 their lame, slight, and superficial performances, feel satisfactory 
 returns, such as they did presume to find ; and thence, to the 
 defamation of piety, are apt to say with those men in the pro- 
 phet, ' It is vain to serve God; and what profit is it that we 
 have kept his ordinance, and that we" have walked mournfully 
 before the Lord of hosts ?' Yea, that sometimes very pious 
 men, being out of humor and somewhat discomposed by the 
 urgent pressures of afiliction, the disappointments and crosses 
 incident to all men here in this region of trouble, are apt to 
 complain and express themselves dissatisfied, saying ^Aith Job, 
 ' It profiteth a man nothing that he should delight himself 
 with God. What advantage will it be unto me, and what profit 
 shall I have if I be cleansed from my sin V or with David. 
 * Verily I have cleansed my heart in vain, and washed my 
 hands in innocency : for all the day long I have been plagued, 
 and chastened every morning.' 
 
 To these considerations, disadvantageous in this respect to 
 piety, may be added, that the constant and certain profits 
 emergent from it (although incomparably more substantial, and 
 to the mind more sensible than any other) are not yet so gross 
 and palpable, that men, who from being immersed in earth and 
 flesh are blind in error, dull of apprehension, vain and inconsi-
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 31 
 
 derate in their judgments, tainted and vitiated in their palates, 
 can discern their worth, or relish their sweetness. Hence it is 
 that so many follow the judgment and practice of those in Job, 
 * who say unto God, depart from us; for we desire not the 
 knowlege of thy ways. What is the Almighty that we should 
 serve him ? and what profit should we have if we pray unto 
 him V 
 
 For voiding which prejudices, and the recommendation of 
 St. Paul's project, I shall, as 1 said, propose some of those in- 
 numerable advantages, by considering which the immense pro- 
 fitableness of piety will appear. And first I shall mention 
 those considerations, which more plainly do import univer- 
 sality; then shall touch some benefits thereof, seeming more 
 particular, yet in effect vastly large, and of a very diffusive in- 
 fluence. 
 
 I. First then, we may consider that piety is exceeding useful 
 for all sorts of men, in all capacities, all states, all relations ; 
 fitting and disposing them to manage all their respective con- 
 cernments, to discharge all their peculiar duties, in a proper, 
 just, and decent manner. 
 
 It rendereth all superiors equal and moderate in their admi- 
 nistrations ; mild, courteous, and affable in their converse ; be- 
 nign and condescensive in all their demeanor toward their 
 inferiors. 
 
 Correspondently it disposeth inferiors to be sincere and faith- 
 ful, modest, loving, respectful, diligent, apt willingly to yield 
 due subjection and service. 
 
 It inclineth princes to be just, gentle, benign, careful for 
 their subjects' good, apt to administer justice uprightly, to pro- 
 tect right, to encourage virtue, to check wickedness. 
 
 Answerably it rendereth subjects loyal, submissive, obedient, 
 quiet, and peaceable, ready to yield due honor, to pay the tri- 
 butes and bear the burdens imposed, to discharge all duties, 
 and observe all laws prescribed by their governors, conscion- 
 ably, patiently, cheerfully, without reluctancy, grudging, or 
 murmuring. 
 
 It maketh parents loving, gentle, provident for their chil- 
 dren's good education and comfortable subsistence ; children 
 again, dutiful, respectful, grateful, apt to requite their parents.
 
 32 BARROW. — SERMON IT. 
 
 Husbands from it become affectionate and compliant to their 
 wives ; wives submissive and obedient to their husbands. 
 
 It disposeth friends to be friends indeed, full of cordial affec- 
 tion and good-will, intirely faithful, firmly constant, industri- 
 ously careful and active in performing; all good offices mu- 
 tually. 
 
 It engageth men to be diligent in their calling, faithful to 
 their trusts, contented and peaceable in their station, and there- 
 by serviceable to the public good. 
 
 It rendereth all men just and punctual in their dealing, or- 
 derly and quiet in their behavior, courteous and complaisant in 
 their conversation, friendly and charitable on all occasions, apt 
 to assist, to relieve, to comfort one another. 
 
 It tieth all relations more fastly and strongly, assureth and 
 augmenteth all endearments, enforceth and establisheth all obli- 
 gations by the firm bands of conscience ; set aside which no 
 engagement can hold sure against temptations of interest or 
 pleasure. Much difference there is between performing these 
 duties out of natural temper, fear of punishment, hope of tem- 
 poral reward, selfish design, regard to credit, or other the like 
 principles, and the discharging them out of religious conscience : 
 this alone will keep men tight, uniform, resolute, and stable; 
 whereas all other principles are loose and slippery, will soon 
 be shaken and falter. 
 
 In consequence to those practices springing from it, piety re- 
 mo veth oppression, violence, faction, disorders, and murmur- 
 ings, out of the state ; schisms and scandals out of the church ; 
 pride and haughtiness, sloth and luxury, detraction and syco- 
 phantry, out of the court; corruption and partiality out of judi- 
 catures ; clamors and tumults out of the street ; brawlings, 
 grudges, and jealousies out of families ; extortion and cozenage 
 out of trade ; strifes, emulations, slanderous backbitings, bitter 
 and foul language out of conversation ; in all places, in all 
 societies it produceth, it advanceth, it establisheth, order, peace, 
 safety, prosperity, all that is good, all that is lovely or hand- 
 some, all that is convenient or pleasant for human society and 
 common life. It is that which, as the wise man saith, 'exalteth 
 a nation ;' it is that which ' establisheth a throne.' 
 
 It is indeed the best prop and guard that can be of govern-
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 33 
 
 nient and of the commonweal: for it settleth the body politic 
 in a sound constitution of health ; it firmly cementeth the parts 
 thereof; it putteth all things into a right order and steady 
 course, it procureth mutual respect and affection between 
 governors and subjects, whence ariseth safety, ease, and plea- 
 sure to both. It rendereth men truly good, (that is, just and 
 honest, sober and considerate, modest and peaceable,) and 
 thence apt, without any constraint or stir, to yield every one 
 their due ; not affected to needless change, not disposed to raise 
 any disturbance. It putteth men in good humor, and keepeth 
 them in it ; whence things pass smoothly and pleasantly. It 
 cherisheth worth, and encourageth industry ; whence virtue flo- 
 risheth, and wealth is increased; whence the occasions and 
 means of disorder are stopped, the pretences for sedition and 
 faction are cut off. In fine, it certainly procureth the bene- 
 diction of God, the source of all welfare and prosperity : 
 whence, * when it goeth well with the righteous, the city re- 
 joiceth ;' and, 'when the righteous are in authority, the peo- 
 ple rejoice,' saith the great politician Solomon. 
 
 It is therefore the concernment of all men, who, as the 
 psalmist speaketh, ' desire to live well, and would fain see 
 good days :' it is the special interest of great persons, (of 
 the magistracy, the nobility, the gentry, of all persons that 
 have any considerable interest in the world,) who would 
 safely and sweetly enjoy their dignity, power, or wealth, 
 by all means to protect and promote piety, as the best instru- 
 ment of their security, and undisturbedly enjoying the accom- 
 modations of their state. Lt is in all respects their best wisdom 
 and policy ; that which will as well preserve their outward 
 state here, as satisfy their consciences within, and save their 
 souls hereafter. All the Machiavelian arts and tricks, all the 
 sleights and fetches of worldly craft, do signify nothing in 
 comparison to this one plain and easy way of securing and fur- 
 thering their interests. 
 
 If then it be a gross absurdity to desire the fruits, and not 
 to take care of the root, not to cultivate the stock, whence they 
 sprout; if every prince gladly would have his subjects loyal 
 and obedient, every master would have his servants honest, di- 
 ligent, and observant, every parent would have his children
 
 34 BARROW.— SERMON II. 
 
 oflScious and grateful, every man would have his friend faithful 
 and kind, every one would have those just and sincere, with 
 whom he doth negociate or converse ; if any one would 
 choose to be related to such, and would esteem their relation 
 a happiness ; then consequently should every man in reason 
 strive to further piety, from whence alone those good disposi- 
 tions and practices do proceed. 
 
 II. Piety doth fit a man for all conditions, qualifying him 
 to pass through them all with the best advantage, wisely, 
 cheerfully, and safely ; so as to incur no considerable harm or 
 detriment by them. 
 
 Is a man prosperous, high, or wealthy in condition? Piety 
 guardeth him from all the mischiefs incident to that state, and 
 disposeth him to enjoy the best advantages thereof. It keepeth 
 him from being swelled and puffed up with vain conceit, from 
 being transported with fond complacenceor confidence therein; 
 minding him that it is purely the gift of God, that it absolutely 
 dependeth on his disposal, so that it may soon be taken from 
 him; and that he cannot otherwise than by humility, by gra- 
 titude, by the good use of it, be secure to retain it ; minding 
 him also that he shall assuredlj^ be forced to render a strict 
 account concerning the good management thereof. It preserveth 
 him from being perverted or corrupted with the temptations 
 to which that condition is most liable ; from luxury, from 
 sloth, from stupidity, from forgetfulness of God, and of him- 
 self ; maintaining among the floods of plenty a sober and steady 
 mind. It fenceth him from insolence, and fastuous contempt 
 of others ; rendereth him civil, condescensive, kind and help- 
 ful to those who are in a meaner state. It instructeth and in- 
 citeth him to apply his wealth and power to the best uses, to 
 the service of God, to the benefit of his neighbor, for his own 
 best reputation, and most solid comfort. It is the right ballast 
 of prosperity, the only antidote for all the inconveniences of 
 wealth; that which secureth, sweeteneth, and sanctifieth all 
 other goods : without it all apparent goods are very noxious, 
 or extremely dangerous; riches, power, honor, ease, pleasure, 
 are so many poisons, or so many snares, without it. Again, 
 is a man poor and low in the world ? Piety doth improve and 
 sweeten even that state : it keepeth his spirits up above dejec-
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. Jii* 
 
 lion, desperation, and disconsolateness; it freeth him from all 
 grievous solicitude and anxiety ; showing him, that although 
 he seemeth to have little, yet he may be assured to want no- 
 thing, he having a certain succor and never-failing supply from 
 God's good providence ; that, notwithstanding the present 
 straitness of his condition or scantness of outward things, he 
 hath a title to goods infinitely more precious and more conside- 
 rable. A pious man cannot but apprehend himself like the 
 child of a most wealthy, kind, and careful father, who, al- 
 though he hath yet nothing in his own possession, or passing 
 under his name, yet is assured that he can never come into 
 any want of what is needful to him : the Lord of all things 
 (who hath all things in heaven and earth at his disposal, who 
 is infinitely tender of his children's good, who doth incessantly 
 watch over them) being his gracious Father, how can he fear 
 to be left destitute, or not to be competently provided for, as is 
 truly best for him ? 
 
 This is the difference between a pious and an impious man. 
 Is the pious man in need ? he hath then an invisible refuge to 
 fly to, an invisible store to furnish him ; he hath somewhat be- 
 yond all present things to hope in, to comfort himself with ; 
 whereas the impious person hath nothing beside present ap- 
 pearances to support or solace himself by ; the which fail- 
 ing, down he sinketh into dejection and despair. Is the good 
 man in affliction ? he knoweth that it cometh not on him with- 
 out God^s wise appointment, nor without good intention to- 
 ward him, for probation, exercise, and improvement of his vir- 
 tues, or for wholesome correction of his bad dispositions ; that 
 it is only physic and discipline to him, which shall have a 
 comfortable issue ; that it shall last no longer than it is expe- 
 dient for him that it should : wherefore he patiently submitteth 
 to it, and undergoeth it cheerfully, with the same mind where- 
 with a patient swalloweth down an unsavory potion, which lie 
 presumeth will conduce to his health.* Never, indeed, hath 
 any man enjoyed more real content, or hath been more truly 
 satisfied, than good men have been in a seeming depth of ad- 
 
 * Scimus amicos Dei ab amanlissimo, niisericordissimo Palre 
 Deo mala isla poenalia recipere, non ut pcenani seu vindiclam ira-
 
 36 BARROW. — SERMON II. 
 
 versity. What men ever on earth have been more sorely 
 afflicted, have underwent gieater losses, disgraces, labors, trou- 
 bles, distresses in any kind, than did the holy Apostles? Yet 
 did they most heartily rejoice, exult, and triumph in them all,* 
 Such a wondrous virtue hath piety to change all things into 
 matter of consolation and joy. No condition in effect can be 
 evil or sad to a pious man : his very sorrows are pleasant, his 
 infirmities are wholesome, his wants enrich him, his disgraces 
 adorn him, his burdens ease him ; his duties are privileges, 
 his falls are the grounds of advancement, his very sins (as 
 breeding contrition, humility, circumspection, and vigilance,) 
 do better and profit him : whereas impiety doth spoil every 
 condition, doth corrupt and embase all good things, doth em- 
 bitter all the conveniences and comforts of life. 
 
 III. Piety doth virtually comprise within it all other pro- 
 fits, serving all the designs of them all : whatever kind or desi- 
 rable good we can hope to find from any other profit, we may 
 be assured to enjoy from it. 
 
 He that hath it is ipso facto vastly rich, is intitled to im- 
 mense treasures of most precious wealth ; in comparison 
 whereto all the gold and all the jewels in the world are mere 
 baubles. He hath interest in God, and can call him his, who 
 is the alf, and in regard to whom all things existent are * less 
 than nothing.' The infinite power and wisdom of God belong 
 to him, to be ever, on all fit occasions, employed for his benefit. 
 AH the inestimable treasures of heaven (a place infinitely more 
 rich than the Indies) are his, after this moment of life, to have 
 and to hold for ever : so that great reason had the wise man 
 to say, that ' in the house of the righteous is much treasure.' 
 Piety therefore is profitable, as immediately instating in 
 wealth : and whereas the desired fruits of profit are chiefly 
 these, honor, power, pleasure, safety, liberty, ease, opportunity 
 of getting knowlege, means of benefiting others ; all these we 
 
 ciniflia-, sed niagis ut correctiones ct medicamenta stuUiliae, et ad- 
 jumenta viitutis, ut malleationes sive fabricatioucs, et tuusiones, 
 sive abliitiones, et canilidatioues. — Guil. Par. de Sacram. 
 
 EKeivovs fifV yap fireKoiKpL^ev rj X^P" ''"^^ fxaprvplas, Koi t) 4\irts ruv iirrjy- 
 ytXfievoov, kou t] irphs rbv Xpicrrhi/ aydirr}, Kal Th iTvevfj.a rh varpiK6v' — ILuscb. 
 \. 1. Mart. Luffd.
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 37 
 
 shall see do abundantly accrue from piety, and in truth only 
 from it. 
 
 The pious man is in truth most honorable. Inter homines 
 pro summo est optimus, saith Seneca, Ep. xc. whom Solo- 
 mon translateth thus ; ' the righteous is more excellent than 
 his neighbor.' He is dignified by the most illustrious titles, 
 a son of God, a friend and favorite to the Sovereign King 
 of the world, an heir of heaven, a denizen of the Jerusalem 
 above :* titles far surpassing all those which worldly state doth 
 assume. He is approved by the best and most infallible judg- 
 ments, wherein true honor resideth. He is respected by God 
 himself, by the holy angels, by the blessed saints, by all good 
 and all wise persons : yea, commonly, by all men : for the 
 effects of genuine piety are so venerable and amiable, that 
 scarce any man can do otherwise than in his heart much esteem 
 him that worketh them. 
 
 The pious man is also the most potent man ; he hath a kind 
 of omnipotency, because he can do whatever he will, that is, 
 what he ought to do ;t and because the Divine Power is ever 
 ready to assist him in his pious enterprises, so that * he can do 
 all things by Christ that strengtheneth him.' He is able to 
 combat and vanish him that is 6 la^ypos, ' the stout and mighty 
 one;' to wage war with happy success ' against principalities 
 and powers.' He conquereth and commandeth himself, which 
 is the bravest victory and noblest empire : he quelleth fleshly 
 lusts, subdueth inordinate passions, and repelleth strong temp- 
 tations. He * by his faith overcometh the world' with a con- 
 quest far more glorious than ever any Alexander or Cvesar 
 could. He, in fine, doth perform the most worthy exploits, 
 and deserveth the most honorable triumphs that man can do. 
 
 The pious man also doth enjoy the only true pleasures ; 
 hearty, pure, solid, durable pleasures; such pleasures as those, 
 of which the divine psalmist singeth : ' In thy presence is ful- 
 ness ot" joy ; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore : 
 that ' all joy in believing,' that ' gaiety of hope,' that incessant 
 
 • Kot' a\iideiav & ayaOhs fi6uo^ rifxriTSs. — Aristot. Etll. iii. 3. 
 t Tantum (juantum vull potest, qm se nisi quod dcljct non putat 
 posse. — Scnec. Ep. xc.
 
 38 BARROW. — SERMON II. 
 
 ' rejoicing in the Lord/ and ' greatly delighting in his law,' that 
 continual feast of a good conscience, that ' serving the Lord with 
 gladness,' that 'exceeding gladness with God's countenance," that 
 'comfort of the Holy Spirit,' that 'joy unspeakable and full of 
 glory ;' the satisfaction resulting from the contemplation of 
 heavenly truth, from the sense of God's favor, and the pardon 
 of his sins, from the influence of God's grace, from the hopes 
 and anticipation of everlasting bliss; these are pleasures indeed, 
 in comparison whereto all other pleasures are no more than 
 brutish sensualities, sordid impurities, superficial touches, 
 transient flashes of delight; such as should be insipid and un- 
 savory to a rational appetite ; such as are tinctured with sour- 
 ness and bitterness, have painful remorses or qualms conse- 
 quent.* All the pious man's performances of duty and of 
 devotion are full of pure satisfaction and delight here, they 
 shall be rewarded with perfect and endless joy hereafter. 
 
 As for safety, the pious man hath it most absolute and sure ; 
 he being guarded by Almighty power and wisdom; 'resting 
 under the shadow of God's wings ;' God ' upholdinghira with his 
 hand, ordering his steps, so that none of them shall slide, hold- 
 ing his soul in life, and sufl'ering not his feet to be moved ;' he 
 being, by the grace and mercy of God, secured from the 
 assaults and impressions of all enemies, from sin and guilt, 
 from the devil, world, and flesh, from death and hell, which 
 are our most formidable, and in efl^ect only dangerous enemies. 
 
 As for liberty, the pious man most intirely and truly doth 
 enjoy that ; he alone is free from captivity to that cruel tyrant 
 8atan, from the miserable slavery to sin, from the grievous 
 dominion of lust and passion. He can do what he pleaseth, 
 having a mind to do only what is good and fit. The law he 
 observeth is worthily called the ' perfect law of liberty:' the 
 Lord he serveth pretendeth only to command freemen and friends : 
 
 * Quid enim jucundius, quam Dei Patris et Domini reconciliatio, 
 (juani vcritatis revelatio, quam errorum rccognitio, qiiani tot rolro 
 ciiminum venia ? qua? major voluptas, quam fastidium ipsius %ohip- 
 latis, quam saeculi totius contemi)tus, quam vera liltertas, quam con- 
 scientia integra, quam vita sufficiens, quam mortis linior nullus. &c. ? 
 — Tort, de Spoctac. '29.
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 39 
 
 * Ye are my friends,' said he, ' if ye do whatever I command 
 you :' and * if the Son set you free, then are ye free indeed,'* 
 
 And for ease, it is he only that knoweth it ; having his mind 
 exempted from the distraction of care, from disorder of passion, 
 from anguish of conscience, from the drudgeries and troubles of 
 the world, from the vexations and disquiets which sin pro- 
 duceth. He findeth it made good to him, which our Lord 
 inviting him did promise, * Come unto me all ye that labor and 
 are heavy laden, and I will give you rest:' he feeleth the 
 truth of those divine assertions, ' Thou wilt keep him in perfect 
 peace, whose mind is stayed on thee :' and ' great peace have 
 they which love thy law, and nothing shall oft'end them.' 
 
 As for knowlege, the pious man alone doth attain jt consi- 
 derably, so as to become truly wise and learned to purpose. 
 ' Evil men,' said the wise man himself, who knew well, ' un- 
 derstand not judgment; but they that seek the Lord under- 
 stand all things.' It is the pious man that employeth his 
 mind on the most proper and worthy objects, that knoweth 
 things which certainly best deserve to be known, that hath 
 his soul enriched with the choicest notions; he skilleth to 
 aim at the best ends, and to compass them by the fittest 
 means ; he can assign to each thing its due worth and value ; 
 he can prosecute things by the best methods, and order his 
 affairs in the best manner ; so that he is sure not to be defeated 
 or disappointed in his endeavors, nor to misspend his care and 
 jmins without answerable fruit. He hath the best master to 
 instruct him in his studies, and the best rules to direct him in 
 his proceedings : he cannot be mistaken, seeing in his judgment 
 and choice of things he conspireth with infallible wisdom. 
 Therefore o cvae^iiv uKfms (pt\o(Tu<pe7, ' the pious man is the 
 exquisite philosopher.' ' The fear of the Lord, that is wisdom ; 
 and to depart from evil is understanding.' 'The fear of the 
 Lord' (as is said again and again in Scripture) ' is the head (or 
 top) of wisdom.' ' A good understanding have all they that keep 
 his commandments.' 
 
 Farther : the pious man is enabled and disposed (hath the 
 
 * Ou yap iariv, ovk ecmv (\ivd(pos, aW' ti ix6vos & Xpiajif ^S/v. — 
 Cljrysost. ad '1 licod.
 
 40 BARROW. — SERMON II. 
 
 power and the heart) most to benefit and oblige others. He 
 doth it by his succor and assistance, by his instruction and 
 advice, which he is ever ready to yield to any man on fit 
 occasion : he doth it by the direction and encouragement of 
 his good example : he doth it by his constant and earnest 
 prayers for all men : he doth it by drawing down blessings 
 from heaven on the place where he resideth. He is on all 
 accounts the most true, the most common benefactor to man- 
 kind ; all his neighbors, his country, the world, are in some 
 way or other obliged to him : at least he doth all the good he 
 can, and in wish doth benefit all men. 
 
 Thus all the fruits and consequences of profit, the which 
 engage men so eagerly to pursue it, do in the best kind and 
 highest degree result from piety, and indeed only from it. All 
 the philosophical bravados concerning a wise man being only 
 rich, only honorable, only happy, only above fortune, are ve- 
 rified in the pious man : to him alone, as such, with a sure 
 foundation, without vanity with evident reason, those aphorisms 
 may be applied. They are paradoxes and fictions abstracting 
 from religion, or considering men only under the light and 
 power of nature : but supposing our religion true, a good Chris- 
 tian soberly, without arrogance, in proportion and according to 
 the measure of his piety, may assume them to himself as the 
 holy Apostles did : ' I possess all things, I can do all things,' 
 he may in a sort say after St. Paul. 
 
 As for all other profits, secluding it, they are but imaginary 
 and counterfeit, mere shadows and illusions, yielding only 
 painted shows instead of substantial fruit. 
 
 If from bare worldly wealth (that which usurpeth the name 
 of profit here) a man seeketh honor, he is deluded, for he is 
 not thereby truly honorable ; he is but a shining earth-worm, 
 a well-trapped ass, a gaudy statue, a theatrical grandee : with 
 God, who judgeth most rightly, he is mean and despicable : 
 no intelligent person can inwardly respect him. Even here, 
 in this world of fallacy and dotage, the wisest and soberest 
 men, whose judgment usually doth sway that of others, cannot 
 but contemn him, as master of no real good, nor fit for any 
 good purpose ; as seeing that in the end he will prove most 
 beggarly and wretched.
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 41 
 
 If a man aft'ectetli power thence, he is grievously mistaken : 
 for, instead thereof, he proveth exceedingly feeble and impo- 
 tent, able to perform nothing worthy a man, subject to fond 
 humors and passions, servant to divers lusts and pleasures, 
 captivated by the Devil at his pleasure, overborne by tempta- 
 tion, hurried by the stream of the world, and liable to the 
 strokes of fortune. 
 
 If he propoundeth to himself thence the enjoyment of plea- 
 sure, he will also much fail therein : for in lieu thereof he shall 
 find care and trouble, surfeiting and disease, wearisome satiety 
 and bitter regret ; being void of all true delight in his mind, 
 satisfaction in his conscience ; nothing here being able to fur- 
 nish solid and stable pleasure. 
 
 If he fancieth safety, he deludeth himself: for how can he 
 be safe, who is destitute of God's protection and succor ; who 
 is the object of divine wrath and vengeance ; who is assailed 
 by many fierce and powerful enemies ; whom the roaring lion 
 is ready to devour ; whom death and sudden destruction are 
 coming to seize on ; whom guilt threateneth, and hell gapeth 
 for ; who without any guard or fence standeth exposed to such 
 imminent, such horrid and ghastly dangers ? 
 
 If he thirst for liberty, he will be frustrated ; for he can be 
 no otherwise than a slave, while he continueth impious; servus 
 tot dominorum, quot vltiorum, a slave to so many masters as 
 he keepeth vices : a slave to himself and his own lusts : car- 
 rying about with him the fetters of unsatiable desire, being 
 hampered with inconsistent and irregular affections. 
 
 Ease he cannot obtain, being oppressed with unwieldy bur- 
 dens of sin, of care, of trouble ; being tossed with restless agi- 
 tations of lust and passion ; being ' like the troubled sea, 
 w^hich cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt.' 
 
 If he meaneth to get wisdom, he is out; for wisdom and 
 impiety are incompatible things. All his knowlege is vain, 
 all his speculations are no better than dreams, seeing he erreth 
 in the main point, and is * not wise to salvation.' 
 
 He is, in fine, extremely mistaken, and in all his projects 
 will be lamentably disappointed, whoever fancieth any true 
 profit without piety : he never can attain to be so much as 
 wealthy ; but drudge and plod what he can, must be a beggar
 
 42 BARROW. — SERMON II. 
 
 and a forlorn wretch. For how can he be any wise rich, who 
 doth want all the best things, the only valuable things in the 
 world, which any man may have, which any good man doth 
 possess? How can he be rich, who is destitute of the most 
 needful accommodations of life ; who constantly feedeth on the 
 coarsest and most sordid fare, (the dust of pelf, the dung of 
 sensuality;) who hath no faithful or constant friends, (nothing 
 earthly can be such ;) who is master of nothing but dirt, or 
 chaff, or smoke ? Whereas also riches do consist, not in what 
 one enjoyeth at present, (for that can be little,) but in a pre- 
 sumed ability to enjoy afterward what he may come to need 
 or desire; or in well-grounded hopes that he shall never fall 
 into want or distress. How can that man be rich, who hath 
 not any confidence in God, any interest in him, any reason to 
 expect his blessing ? yea, who hath much ground to fear the 
 displeasure of him, in whose hand all things are, and who arbi- 
 trarily disposeth of all ? Piety therefore is the only profitable 
 thing according to just esteem. * She is more precious than 
 rubies, and all the things we can desire are not to be compared 
 to her.' On this account it is most true, what the Psalmist 
 affirmeth, ' a little that the righteous hath is better than great 
 riches of the ungodly.' 
 
 IV. That commendation is not to be omitted which is nearest 
 at hand, and suggested by St. Paul himself to back this asser- 
 tion concerning the universal profitableness of piety ; 'For,' 
 saith he, ' it hath the promise of the life that now is, and of that 
 which is to come :' that is, God hath promised to reward it 
 with blessings appertaining to this mortal life, and with those 
 which concern the future eternal state. 
 
 As for the blessings of this life, although God hath not pro- 
 mised to load the godly man with affluence of woi-ldly things, 
 not to put him into a splendid and pompous garb, not to dispense 
 to him that which may serve for pampering the flesh, or grati- 
 fying wanton fancy, not to exempt him from all the incon- 
 veniences to which human nature and this worldly state are 
 subject ; yet hath he promised to furnish him with whatever is 
 needful or convenient for him, in due measure and season, the 
 which he doth best understand. There is no good thing which 
 a man naturally desireth or reasonably can wish for, which
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 43 
 
 is not in express terms proposed as a reward, or a result of 
 piety. 
 
 In general it is declared that ' blessings are on the head of 
 the just;' that ' no good thing God will withhold from them 
 that walk uprightly ;' that whatever otherwise doth fall out, it 
 ' assuredly shall be well with them that fear God ;' that ' blessed 
 is every one that feareth the Lord, thatwalketh in his ways:' — 
 ' happy shalt thou be, and it shall be well with thee;' that 
 ' there shall no evil happen to the just;' that ' all things work 
 together for good to them that love God.' 
 
 Particularly there are promised to the pious man, 
 
 A supply of all wants. — ' The Lord will not suffer the soul 
 of the righteous to famish,' ' The righteous eateth to the satis- 
 fying of his soul.' ' There is no want to them that fear God.' 
 'The young lions do lack, and suffer hunger ; but they that 
 seek the Lord shall not want any good thing.' 
 
 A protection in all dangers. — ' The eye of the Lord is on them 
 that fear him, on them that hope in his mercy ; to deliver their 
 soul from death, and to keep them alive in famine.' 'There 
 shall no evil befal thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy 
 dwelling : he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep 
 thee in all thy ways.' 
 
 Guidance in all his undertakings and proceedings. — ' The 
 steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord.' ' None of his 
 steps shall slide.' ' In all thy ways acknowlege him, and he 
 shall direct thy paths.' 
 
 Success and prosperity in his designs. — ' Commit thy way 
 unto the Lord ; trust also in him, and he shall bring it to pass.' 
 •Whatsoever he doeth, it shall prosper.' ' Thou shalt decree a 
 thing, and it shall be established ; and the light shall shine on 
 thy ways.' ' The Lord shall command a blessing on thee in thy 
 storehouses, and in all that thou settest thy hand unto.' ' Thine 
 expectation shall not be cut off.' 
 
 Comfortable enjoying the fruits of his industry. — 'Thou shalt 
 eat the labor of thine hands.' 
 
 Satisfaction of all reasonable desires. — 'The desire of the right- 
 eous shall be granted.' ' Delight thyself in the Lord, and he shall 
 give thee the desires of thine heart.' ' He will fulfil the desire of 
 them that fear him : he will hear their cry, and will save them.'
 
 44 BARROW. — SERMON II. 
 
 Firm peace and quiet. — ' The work of righteousness shall be 
 peace ; and the effect of righteousness, quietness, and assurance 
 for ever.' ' Great peace have they which love thy law.' ' The 
 fruit of righteousness is sowed in peace.' 
 
 Joy and alacrity. — ' Light is sown for the righteous, and 
 gladness for the upright in heart.' * In the transgression of 
 an evil man there is a snare : but the righteous doth sing and 
 rejoice.' 
 
 Support and comfort in afflictions. — ' He healeth the 
 broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.' ' Be of good 
 courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in 
 the Lord.' 
 
 Deliverance from trouble. — ' Many are the afflictions of the 
 righteous, but the Lord delivereth him out of them all.' ' He 
 keepeth all his bones, not one of them is broken.' 
 
 Preservation and recovery from mishaps, or miscarriages. — 
 ' Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down : for the 
 Lord upholdeth him with his hand.' 
 
 Preferment of all sorts, to honor and dignity, to wealth and 
 prosperity. — ' Wait on the Lord, and keep his way ; and he 
 shall exalt thee to inherit the land.' ' By humility and fear 
 of the Lord, are riches and honor.' ' Blessed is the man that 
 feareth the Lord — wealth and riches are in his house.' 
 ' The upright shall have good things in possession.' ' If they 
 obey and serve him, they shall spend their days in prosperity, 
 and their years in pleasure.' ' The tabernacle of the righteous 
 shall florish.' 
 
 Long life. — 'The fear of the Lord prolongeth days.' ' By 
 me thy days shall be multiplied, and the years of thy life shall 
 be increased.' * Let thine heart keep my commandments : for 
 length of days, and long life, and peace, shall they add unto 
 thee.' 
 
 A good name enduring after death. — ' The memory of the 
 just is blessed.' 
 
 Blessings entailed on posterity. — * His seed shall be mighty 
 on earth : the generation of the upright shall be blessed.' ' The 
 I'oot of the righteous shall not be moved.' 
 
 Thus is a liberal dispensation even of temporal goods annexed 
 by God's infallible word unto the practice of piety. It is in-
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 45 
 
 deed more frequently, abundantly, and explicitly promised 
 unto God's ancient people, as being a conditional ingredient of 
 the covenant made with them, exhibited in that as a recompense 
 of their external performance of religious works prescribed in 
 their law. The gospel doth not so clearly propound it, or so much 
 insist on it as not principally belonging to the evangelical cove- 
 nant, the which, in reward to the performance of its conditions 
 by us, peculiarly doth offer blessings spiritual, and relating to 
 the future state ; as also scarce deserving to be mentioned in 
 comparison to those superior blessings. Yet as the celestial 
 benefits, although not openly tendered in the Jewish law, were 
 yet mystically couched therein, and closely designed for the 
 spiritual and hearty practisers of religion ; so is the collation of 
 temporal accommodations to be understood to belong to all 
 pious Christians : there is a codicil, as it were, annexed to the 
 New Testament, in which God signifieth his intention to fur- 
 nish his children with all that is needful or convenient for them. 
 His providence hath not ceased to watch over us, his bounty 
 doth not fail toward us even in this respect ; his care will not 
 be wanting to feed us and clotha us comfortably, to protect us 
 from evil, to prosper our good undertakings. Hence doth he 
 command us to care for nothing, but ' to cast our care on him, 
 to recommend our business to him, because he careth for us;' 
 • he will never forsake us;' he will hear our prayers, and help 
 us. Hence we are injoined ' not to trust in uncertain riches, 
 but in the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy.' 
 Hence it is said that ' the divine power hath given us all things 
 pertaining unto life and godliness, through the knowlege of him 
 that hath called us to glory and virtue.' Hence it is promised 
 by our Lord, that, ' if we seek first the kingdom of God, all 
 things shall be added to us.' Hence it is inferred, as conse- 
 quential to the nature of the evangelical dispensation, that we 
 cannot want any good thing; 'He,' saith St. Paul, 'that 
 spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, 
 how shall he not with him also freely give us all things ?' In 
 fine, hence it is proposed as notorious, that nothing is permitted 
 to fall out otherwise than as conduceth to our good. ' We 
 know,' saith St. Paul, ' that all things work together for good 
 unto those that love God :' nor ' will God,' in any case, ' suffer
 
 46 BARROW. — SERMON II. 
 
 US to be tempted,' by any want or pressure, ' beyond what 
 we are able to bear.' Thus is piety evidently profitable, as 
 ' having the promises of this life,' or exhibiting all temporal 
 blessings desirable to the practisers thereof. 
 
 But infinitely more profitable it is, as ' having the promises 
 of the future life,' or as procuring a title to those incomparably 
 more excellent blessings of the other world ; those ' indefectible 
 treasures,' that 'incorruptible, undefiled, and never-fading in- 
 heritance, reserved in heaven for us ;' that ' exceeding weight 
 of glory;' those 'ineffable joys of paradise;' that lightsome 
 countenance and beatifying presence of God ; that unconceiva- 
 bly and unexpressibly joyful, glorious, perfect, and endless 
 bliss; briefly, all that is comprised and intimated in those 
 words of the Apostle, ' eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nei- 
 ther have entered into the heart of man the things which God 
 hath prepared for them that love him.' Infinitely profitable 
 surely must that be, which procureth those things for us : and 
 in these respects great reason had St. Paul to say that ' godli- 
 ness is profitable for all things.' 
 
 But farther, to evidence and recommend this point, I might 
 propound certain peculiar advantages arising from piety, which 
 have a very general influence on our lives, and do afford unto 
 them exceeding benefit : but this I must, in regard to the time 
 and your patience, at present forbear.
 
 SERMON III. 47 
 
 SUMMARY OF SERMON III. 
 
 I TIMOTHY, CHAP. IV. — VERSE 8. 
 
 Some other considerations proposed, which serve to recom- 
 mend more particularly the assertion of St. Paul, declaring the 
 great profitableness of religion. 
 
 I. TVe may consider that religion prescribes the truest and 
 best rules of action, enlightening our minds and rectifying our 
 practice on all occasions, &c. Of all things in the world there 
 is nothing more generally profitable than light : its benefits 
 described. The like benefits does religion, which is the light 
 of the soul, yield to it : this point enlarged on. 
 
 Propriety of acting regularly, uniformly, and consistently, 
 displayed. Evils which beset an untractable profane man who 
 has no bridle of conscience to guide or check him, described : 
 advantages which attend the pious man, who is steadily go- 
 verned by conscience, and has a regard to certain principles. 
 
 What law and government are to the public, that is piety to 
 each man's private state, and to ordinary conversation : it frees 
 a man's own life from disorder, and prompts men to behave 
 themselves towards each other with security and confidence. 
 
 And the advantage appears greater, if we consider that the 
 rules which it prescribes for this purpose are the best that can 
 be ; inasmuch as they proceed from infallible wisdom and 
 immense goodness : the beauty and utility of these rules en- 
 larged on. The advantages accruing to a person who adheres 
 to these rules described : the evils which beset him who neg- 
 lects them. In short, the precepts of religion are no other 
 than such as physicians would prescribe for the health of the
 
 48 SUMMARY OF 
 
 body, politicians for the peace of the state, philosophers for the 
 tranquillity of the mind, &c. 
 
 II. We may consider more particularly, that piety yields to 
 him who practises it, internal content, peace, and joy in the 
 highest degree ; that it frees him from all kinds of dissatisfac- 
 tion, regret, and disquiet ; which is an inestimable advantage, 
 since the happiness and misery of men are chiefly seated in the 
 mind : this topic enlarged on. 
 
 It is shown that from the practice of religion alone, such 
 inward content and pleasure can arise. For all present enjoy- 
 ments of this world are transient, and of any that are to come 
 there is no assurance. There is nothing here below large 
 enough to fill our vast capacities, to satiate our boundless 
 desires, or to appease our squeamish delicacy : this topic 
 enlarged on. 
 
 Boast of the Epicureans, that by discarding the belief and 
 dread of religion, they laid a foundation for tranquillity of 
 mind, shown to be vain. 
 
 But the Epicurean's success in subduing religion being 
 granted, it is shown that he will fail in obtaining his desired 
 tranquillity, unless he can also trample down reason, new mould 
 human nature, and subjugate all natural appetites and pas- 
 sions, &c. 
 
 It is farther shown, by a distinct survey of all the grounds 
 and sources of content, that religion only can afford it : this is 
 the case, whether content be expected to result from the well 
 governing and ordering of our passions ; from a hearty appro- 
 bation of our own conduct, when we recollect that we have 
 acted according to wisdom, justice, and duty ; from a sound 
 and healthy constitution of soul ; from good success in our 
 attempts, and from prosperous events befalling us ; from secu- 
 rity against danger, trouble, want, and all such evils; from 
 sufficiency, real or apprehended. 
 
 III. Since happiness, or the summum bonum, the utmost
 
 SERMON III. 49 
 
 scope of human desire has been mentioned, it may be added, 
 that piety surely confers it, or that happiness, whatever it be, 
 has an essential coherence with piety. These are reciprocal 
 propositions, both of them infallibly true. He that is pious is 
 happy, and he that is happy is pious : this subject enlarged on, 
 
 IV. It is a peculiar advantage of piety, that it furnishes 
 employment fit and worthy of us, grateful and beneficial to us. 
 Man being a busy active creature, whose thoughts are in 
 restless motion, and whose desires are ever stretching at some- 
 what, will always be working good or evil to himself : very 
 profitable therefore to him must that thing be, which determines 
 him to act well, to spend his care and pains on that which is 
 truly advantageous to him, &c. Religion farther considered 
 as an employment most proper for us as reasonable creatures ; 
 as an employment most beneficial to us ; as an employment 
 most constant, occupying all our faculties ; as a sweet and 
 grateful business. In fine, the light of nature has discerned 
 that, were it not for such an employment, this would be a 
 lamentable world to live in. Speech of the Emperor M. An- 
 toninus on this point recorded. 
 
 V. A considerable benefit of piety is, that it affords the 
 best friendships and sweetest society, for which man is 
 framed, and without which he cannot well live. It makes 
 God our friend, who is infinitely better than all others ; 
 and consequently it engages all creatures in the world to be 
 our friends, or instruments of good to us, according to their 
 several capacities, by the direction and disposal of God : it 
 procures for us the friendship of the good angels, that puissant 
 host of happy spirits : it engages also the blessed saints in 
 glory, the spirits of men perfected, the church of the first-born ; 
 and it renders all sorts of people our friends : to good men it 
 unites us in holy communion ; it reconciles enemies ; and by it 
 all conversation becomes tolerable, grateful, or useful. In 
 fine, piety renders a man a true friend and a good companion 
 
 BAR. VOL. I. c
 
 50 SUMMARY OF SERMON III. 
 
 to himself, satisfied in himself, able to converse freely and plea- 
 santly with his own thoughts : indeed it is only from want of 
 true piety that solitude is to most men irksome and tedious. 
 
 So many, and even more great and precious advantages 
 accrue from piety; whence we may well conclude with St. 
 Paul, that godliness is profitable for all things. Final ex- 
 hortation.
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 51 
 
 SERMON III. 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 
 
 1 TIMOTHY, CHAP. IV. — VERSE 8. 
 But godliness is profitable for all things. 
 
 In discoursing formerly on these words, I did propound di- 
 vers general considerations, serving to confirm and recommend 
 this assertion of St. Paul. I shall now insist on some others 
 more particular, which yet seem much conducible to the same 
 purpose, declaring the vast utility of religion or piety. 
 
 I. We may consider that religion doth prescribe the truest 
 and best rules of action ; thence enlightening our mind, and 
 rectifying our practice in all matters, and on all occasions, so 
 that whatever is performed according to it, is done well and 
 wisely, with a comely grace in regard to others, with a cheerful 
 satisfaction in our own mind, with the best assurance that 
 things are here capable of, to find happy success and beneficial 
 fruit. 
 
 Of all things in the world there is nothing more generally 
 profitable than light : by it we converse with the world, and 
 have all things set before us ; by it we truly and easily discern 
 things in their right magnitude, shape, and color; by it we 
 guide our steps safely in prosecution of what is good, and 
 shunning what is noxious ; by it our spirits are comfortably 
 warmed and cheered, our life consequently, our health, our 
 vigor, and activity, are preserved. The like benefits doth reli- 
 gion, which is the light of our soul, yield to it. Pious men are 
 ' children of the light ;' pious works are works of light ' shining 
 before men.' ' God's word' (or true religion) * is a lamp unto
 
 52 BARROW. — SERMON III. 
 
 our feet, and a light unto our path ;' enabling us to perceive 
 things, and judge rightly of them ; teaching us to walk straightly 
 and surely, without erring or stumbling; qualifying us to em- 
 brace what is useful, and to avoid hurtful things ; preserving 
 our spiritual life, and disposing us to act well with a vigorous 
 alacrity : without it a man is stark blind, and utterly benighted, 
 gropeth in doubt, wandereth in mistake, trippeth on all occa- 
 sions, and often falleth into mischief. ' The path of the just,' 
 saith the wise man, ' is as the shining light.' ' The way of the 
 wicked is as darkness, they know not at what they stumble.' 
 'Righteousness keepeth him that is upright in the way; but 
 wickedness overthroweth the sinner.' 
 
 Again : it is a fair ornament of a man, and a grand conve- 
 nience both to himself and to others with whom he converseth 
 or dealeth, to act regularly, uniformly, and consistently ; 
 freeing a man's self from distraction and irresolution in his mind, 
 from change and confusion in his proceedings ; securing others 
 from delusion and disappointment in their transactions with 
 him. Even a bad rule constantly observed is therefore better 
 than none :* order and perseverance in any way seemeth more 
 convenient than roving and tossing about in uncertainties. 
 But, secluding a regard to the precepts of religion, there can 
 hardly be any sure or settled rule, which firmly can engage a 
 man to, or effectually restrain a man from any thing. 
 
 There is scarce in nature any thing so wild, so untractable, 
 so unintelligible, as a man who hath no bridle of conscience to 
 guide or check him. A profane man is like a ship, without 
 anchor to stay him, or rudder to steer him, or compass to guide 
 him ; so that he is tossed with any wind, and driven with any 
 wave, none knoweth whither ; whither bodily temper doth sway 
 him, or passion doth hurry him, or interest doth pull him, or 
 example leadeth him, or company in veigleth and haleth him, or 
 humor transporteth him ; whither any such variable and unac- 
 countable causes determine him, or divers of them together 
 distract him : whence he so ramble th and hovereth, that he can 
 seldom himself tell what in any case he should do, nor can 
 
 * Via eunti aliquid extremura est; error immensus est. — Sen. 
 Ep. 16.
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 53 
 
 another guess it ; so that you cannot at any time know where 
 to find him, or how to deal with him : you cannot with reason 
 ever rely on him, so ' unstable he is in all his ways.' He is in 
 effect a mere child, all humor and giddiness, somewhat worse 
 than a beast, which, following the instinct of its nature, is 
 constant and regular, and thence tractable ; or at least so «n- 
 tractable, that no man will be deceived in meddling with him. 
 Nothing therefore can be more unmanly than such a person, 
 nothing can be more unpleasant than to have to do with him.* 
 
 But a pious man, being steadily governed by conscience, 
 and a regard to certain principles, doth both understand him- 
 self and is intelligible to others : he presently descrieth what 
 in any case he is to do, and can render an account of his act- 
 ing : you may know him clearly, and assuredly tell what he 
 will do, and may therefore fully confide in him.f 
 
 What therefore law and government are to the public, things 
 necessary to preserve the world in order, peace, and safety, 
 (that men may know what to do, and distinguish what is their 
 own,) that is piety to each man's private state and to ordinary 
 conversation : it freeth a man's own life from disorder and dis- 
 traction ; it prompteth men how to behave themselves toward 
 one another with security and confidence. 
 
 This it doth by confining our practice within settled bounds : 
 but this advantage appeareth greater, considering that the rules 
 which it prescribeth are the best that can be. Such they must 
 needs be, as proceeding from infallible wisdom and immense 
 goodness; being indeed no other than laws, which the all-wise 
 and most gracious Lord and Maker of the world, out of tender 
 kindness to his subjects and creatures, with especial regard to 
 our welfare, hath been pleased to enact and declare. What 
 of old he said to the Israelites concerning their laws, may with 
 greater advantage be applied to those which should regulate 
 our lives: 'And now, Israel, what doth the Lord thy God 
 
 * Nihil est tam occiipatum, tarn multiformo, tot ac tarn variis 
 afTectibus concisum atque laceiatum, quam mala mens. — Quint, 
 xii. 1. 
 
 t Oi fTTieiKus favTois bfxovoovai koI aW^Kois, tirj tccv avrwv ovres, ws etTre'iv 
 ruv TOiOVToiv fievfi yap ra l3ou\rifxa.ra, Kol ov /uera^pe?, Sicnrep evpinos. — 
 Arist. Etli. ix. 6.
 
 54 BARROW. — SERMON III. 
 
 require of thee, but to fear the Lord thy God, to walk in all 
 his ways, and to love him, and to serve the Lord thy God with 
 all thy heart, and with all thy soul ; to keep the command- 
 ments of the Lord, and his statutes, which I command thee 
 this day for thy good V (For thy good ; that was the design 
 of their being commanded ; thereto the observance of them 
 did tend.) And that commendation, which by the Levites in 
 Nehemiah is given to that, doth more clearly and fully agree 
 to the Christian (general and perfect) institution : ' Thou 
 earnest down from mount Sinai, and spakest with them from 
 heaven, and gavest them right judgments, and true laws, good 
 statutes and commandments.' And, 'the law,' saith the Apostle 
 Paul, ' is holy ; the commandment is holy, just, and good :' 
 as such it is recommended to us by its Author, so we Christians 
 are by many great arguments assured that it is, and that it is such 
 even our natural reason dictateth ; so (as to the chief instances 
 thereof) the most wise and sober men always have acknowleged, 
 so the general consent doth avow, andsoeven common experience 
 doth attest. For, heartily to love and reverence the Maker of 
 all things, who by every thing apparent before us demon- 
 strateth himself incomprehensibly powerful, wise, and good, to 
 be kind and charitable to our neighbors, to be just and faithful 
 in our dealings, to be sober and modest in our minds, to be 
 meek and gentle in our demeanors, to be staunch and tempe- 
 rate in our enjoyments, and the like principal rules of duty, are 
 such, that the common reason of men and continual experience 
 do approve them as hugely conducible to the public good of 
 men, and to each man's private welfare. So notoriously bene- 
 ficial they appear, that for the justification of them we might 
 appeal even to the judgment and conscience of those persons, 
 who are most concerned to derogate from them. For hardly 
 can any man be so senseless, or so lewd, as seriously to disap- 
 prove or condemn them, as inwardly to blame or slight those 
 who truly act according to them. The will of men sometimes 
 may be so depraved, that dissolute persons wantonly and heed- 
 lessly may scoff at and seem to disparage goodness ; that good 
 men by very bad men for doing well may be envied and hated: 
 (their being so treated is commonly an argument of the good- 
 ness of their persons and of their ways :) but the understanding
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. o5 
 
 of men can hardly be so corrupted, that piety, charity, justice, 
 temperance, meekness, can in good earnest considerately by 
 any man be disallowed, or that persons apparently practising 
 them can be despised ; but rather, in spite of all contrary pre- 
 judice and disaffection, such things and such persons cannot 
 but in judgment and heart be esteemed by all men. The lustre 
 of them by a natural and necessary efficacy (like that of heaven's 
 glorious light) dazzleth the sight and charmeth the spirits of all 
 men living ; the beauty of them irresistibly conquereth and 
 commandeth in the apprehensions of men : the more they are 
 observed, the more useful and needful they appear for the good 
 of men ; all the fruits which grow from the observance of them 
 being to all men's taste very pleasant, to all men's experience 
 very wholesome. Indeed, all the good, w^hereby common life 
 is adorned, is sweetened, is rendered pleasant and desirable, 
 doth spring thence ; all the mischiefs which infest particular 
 men, and which disturb the world, palpably do arise from the 
 transgression or neglect thereof. 
 
 If we look on a person sticking to those rules, we shall per- 
 ceive him to have a cheerful mind and composed passions, to 
 be at peace within, and satisfied with himself; to live in 
 comely order, in good repute, in fair correspondence, and firm 
 concord with his neighbors. If we mark what preserveth the 
 body sound and lusty, what keepeth the mind vigorous and 
 brisk, what saveth and improveth the estate, what upholdeth 
 the good name, what gnardeth and graceth a man's whole life ; 
 it is nothing else but proceeding in our demeanor and dealings 
 according to the honest and wise rules of piety. If we view a 
 place where these commonly in good measure are observed, we 
 shall discern that peace and prosperity do florish there ; that 
 all things proceed on sweetly and fairly ; that men generally 
 drive on conversation and commerce together contentedly, 
 delightfully, advantageously, yielding friendly advice and aid 
 mutually, striving to render one another happy ; that few 
 clamors or complaints are heard there, few contentions or stirs 
 do appear, few disasters or tragedies do occur ; that such a 
 place hath indeed much of the face, much of the substance of 
 Paradise. 
 
 But if you mind a person who neglecteth them,. you will find
 
 56 BARROW. — SERMON III. 
 
 his mind galled with sore remorse, racked with anxious fears 
 and doubts, agitated with storms of passion and lust, living in 
 disorder and disgrace, jarring with others, and no less dissatis- 
 fied with himself. If you observe what doth impair the 
 health, doth weaken and fret the mind, doth waste the estate, 
 doth blemish the reputation, doth expose the whole life to 
 danger and trouble ; what is it but thwarting these good rules ? 
 If you consider a place where these are much neglected, it will 
 appear like a wilderness of savage beasts, or a sty of foul 
 swine, or a hell of cursed fiends ; full of roaring and tearing, 
 of factions and feuds, of distractions and confusions, of pitiful 
 objects, of doleful moans, of tragical events. Men are there 
 wallowing in filth, wildly revelling, bickering and squabbling, 
 defaming, circumventing, disturbing and vexing one another ; 
 as if they affected nothing more than to render one another as 
 miserable as they can. It is from lust and luxury, from ambi- 
 tion and avarice, from envy and spite, and the like disposi- 
 tions, which religion chiefly doth interdict, that all such horrid 
 mischiefs do spring. 
 
 In fine, the precepts of religion are no other than such as 
 physicians would prescribe for the health of our bodies, as 
 politicians would avow needful for the peace of the state, as 
 Epicurean philosophers do recommend for the tranquillity of 
 our mind, and pleasure of our lives ; such as common reason 
 dictateth, and daily trial sheweth conducible to our welfare in 
 all respects ; which consequently, were there no law exacting 
 them of us, we should in wisdom choose to observe, and volun- 
 tarily impose on ourselves, confessing them to be fit matters of 
 law, as most advantageous and requisite to the good (general 
 and particular) of mankind. So that what Plutarch reporteth 
 Solon to have said, that ' he had so squared his laws to the 
 citizens, that all of them might clearly perceive, that to observe 
 them was more for their benefit and interest than to violate 
 them,' is far more true concerning the divine laws. 
 
 II. We may consider more particularly, that piety yieldeth 
 to the practiser all kind of interior content, peace, and joy ; 
 freeth him from all kinds of dissatisfaction, regret, and disquiet ; 
 which is an inestimably great advantage : for certainly the 
 happiness and misery of men are wholly or chiefly seated and
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS, 57 
 
 founded in the mind. If that is in a g;ood state of health, rest, 
 and cheerfulness, whatever the person's outward condition or 
 circumstances be, he cannot be wretched : if that be distem- 
 pered or disturbed, he cannot be happy. For what if a man 
 seem very poor ; if he be abundantly satisfied in his own pos- 
 sessions and enjoyments ? What if he tasteth not the pleasures 
 of sense; if he enjoyeth purer and sweeter delights of mind ? 
 What if tempests of fortune surround him ; if his mind be calm 
 and serene? What if he have few or no friends; if ye yet be 
 throughly in peace and amity with himself, and can delight- 
 fully converse with his own thoughts ? What if men slight, 
 censure, or revile him; if he doth value his own state, doth 
 approve his own actions, doth acquit himself of blame in his 
 own conscience ? Such external contingencies can surely no 
 more prejudice a man's real happiness, than winds blustering 
 abroad can harm or trouble him that abideth in a good room 
 within doors, than storms and fluctuations at sea can molest 
 him who standeth firm on the shore. On the other hand, the 
 greatest affluence of seeming goods will avail nothing, if real 
 content of mind be wanting. For what will the highest emi- 
 nence of outward state import to him that is dejected in his 
 own conceit ? What if the world court and bless him, or if all 
 people do admire and applaud him ; if he be displeased with, 
 if he condemneth, if he despiseth himself? What if the weather 
 look fair and bright without, if storms rage in his breast, if 
 black clouds do overcast his soul ? What if he do abound with 
 friends, and enjoy peace abroad ; if he find distraction at home, 
 and is at cruel variance with himself? How can a man enjoy 
 any satisfaction, or relish any pleasure, while sore remorse 
 doth sting him, or solicitous doubts and fears do rack 
 him?* 
 
 Now that from the practice of religion, and from it alone, 
 such inward content and pleasure do spring ; that it only minis- 
 tereth reason of content, and disposeth the mind to enjoy it ; 
 that it extirpateth the grounds and roots of discontent ; that it 
 
 * Chry.sost()m. in Rom. i. Or. 1. ^iiduixiav yap koI xapos" ovk apxns 
 Heye6o9, ov xpVM-'^''''^'' tAtj^os, ov SwaffTeias uyKos, ovk iVxi'S (rdixaros, ov iro- 
 AuTfAeia TpuTre'frjj, ovx Ifj-aTrnv k6(T!J.os, ovk &\\o ti rwv a.vQp'j>n'ivwv ttoiuv iXu- 
 dev, AAA' fj Kaj6pQoijjLix ix6vov Trvev/xaTtKhv, ko.I awnShs aya66v.
 
 58 BARROW. - SERMON III. 
 
 is the only mother of true, sober alacrity and tranquillity of 
 mind, will, on considering things, be manifest. 
 
 There is no other thing here in this world that can yield any 
 solid or stable content to our mind. For all present enjoyments 
 are transient and evanid ; and of any future thing, in this king- 
 dom of change and contingency, there can be no assurance. 
 There is nothing below large enough to fill our vast capacities, 
 or to satiate our boundless desires, or to appease our squeamish 
 delicacy. There is nothing whose sweetness we do not pre- 
 sently exhaust and suck dry : whereof thence we do not soon 
 grow weary, quite loathing, or faintly liking it. There is not 
 any thing which is not slippery and fleeting ; so that we can 
 for a long time hope to possess it, or for any time can enjoy it, 
 without restless care in keeping it, and anxious fear of losing it. 
 Nothing there is, in the pursuance, the custody, the defence and 
 maintenance whereof we are not liable to disappointments and 
 crosses. Nothing consequently there is productive of any sound 
 content to the fastidious, impatient, greedy, and restless heart 
 of man. The greatest confluence of present, corporeal, secular 
 things, (of all the health, the riches, the dignity, the power, the 
 friendships and dependencies, the wit, the learning and wisdom, 
 the reputation and renown in this world) will not aftord much 
 of it ; which yet is but an imaginary supposition ; for in eftect 
 hardly do all such accommodations of life concur in any state. 
 There is ever some ' dead fly ' in our box, which marreth our 
 'ointment;' some adherent inconvenience, which soureth the 
 gust of our enjoyments : there is always some good thing absent 
 which we do want or long for ; some ill thing present or in pros- 
 pect which we abhor, would avoid, do fear may come. If 
 therefore we would find content, we must not seek it here ; we 
 must want it, or have it from another world : it must come hither 
 from heaven, and thence only piety can fetch it down. This, 
 instead of these unsatisfying, uncertain, and unstable things, 
 supplieth us with goods adequate to our most outstretched 
 wishes, infallibly sure, incessantly durable ; * an indefectible 
 treasure, an incorruptible inheritance, an unshakable kingdom,'* 
 a perfect and endless joy, capable to replenish the vastest 
 
 * Qrjaavphv avlKMi-nrev, KXr)povofj.iav &<p6a.pTov, fiaaiXeiav a.a-d\(UTov.
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 59 
 
 heart : which he that hath a good title to or a confident hope 
 of, how can he be otherwise than extremely pleased, than fully 
 content? It assureth the favor and friendship of God, of him 
 that is absolute Lord and disposer of all things : the which he 
 that hath and confideth in, what can he want or wish more? 
 what can he fear ? what can annoy or dismay him ? what can 
 hap to him worthy to be deemed evil or sad ? What is poverty 
 to him for whom God is concerned to provide ? What is dis- 
 grace to him that hath the regard and a,pprobation of God .' 
 What is danger to him whom God continually protecteth ? 
 What can any distress work on him whom God doth comfort 
 and will relieve ? What is any thing to him who is sensible 
 that all things are purposely disposed to him by that Wisdom 
 which perfectly knowethwhat is best; by that Goodness which 
 intirely loveth him ? In fine, he that is conscious to himself of 
 being well-affected in mind, and acting the best way, who is 
 satisfied in the state of his soul, secure from God's displeasure, 
 and hopeful of his favor, what can make any grievous impression 
 on him ? What other affections than such as are most grateful 
 and pleasant can lodge in his soul ? Joy and peace have natu- 
 ral seeds in such a mind, and necessarily must spring up there ; 
 in proportion, I mean, and according to the degrees of piety 
 resident therein. 
 
 The Epicureans did conceit and boast, that having, by their 
 atheistical explications of natural effects, and common events 
 here, discarded the belief and dread of religion, they had laid 
 a strong foundation for tranquillity of mind, had driven away 
 all the causes of grief and fear, so that nothing then remained 
 troublesome or terrible unto us ; and consequently, what, said 
 they, could forbid, but that we should be intirely contented, 
 glad, and happy? — Nos excequat victoria coclo ; no god then 
 surely could be more happy than we. But their attempt in 
 many respects was vain and lame. They presumed of a vic- 
 tory which it is impossible to obtain : and supposing they had 
 got it, their triumph would not have been so glorious, their 
 success would not have been so great, as they pretended. For 
 seeing no Epicurean discourse can baffle the potent arguments 
 which persuade religion ; (those arguments, which the visible 
 constitution of nature, the current tradition of all ages, the
 
 60 BARROW. — SERMON III. 
 
 general consent of men, the pregnant attestations of history 
 and experience concerning supernatural and miraculous events, 
 do afford ;) since the being and providence of God have proofs 
 so clear and valid, that no subtlety of man can so far evade 
 them as not to be shaken with them, as wholly to be freed 
 from doubt and suspicion of their truth ; since there can be no 
 means of evincing the negative part in those questions to be 
 true or probable; it is impossible that any considering man, 
 in this cause against religion, should suppose himself to have 
 acquired an absolute and secure victory, or that he should reap 
 substantial fruit of comfort thence. It cannot be, that any 
 man should enjoy any perfect quiet, without acting so as to get 
 some good hope of avoiding those dreadful mischiefs, which 
 religion threateneth to the transgressors of its precepts. Were 
 there indeed but reason enough to stir, if not to stagger, an 
 infidel ; were it somewhat dubious whether, yea, were it great 
 odds that there are not reserved any punishments for impiety, 
 as indeed there is, if not the perfectest assurance imaginable, 
 yet vast advantage on the contrary side ; were there but any 
 small reason for a judgment to come, as there are apparently 
 very many and great ones ; had most men conspired in deny- 
 ing providence, as ever generally they have consented in avow- 
 ing it ; were there a pretence of miracles for establishing the 
 mortality and impunity of souls, as there have been number- 
 less strongly testified by good witnesses and great events, to 
 confirm the opposite doctrines ; did most wise and sober men 
 judge in favor of irreligion, as commonly they ever did and still 
 do otherwise ; yet wisdom would require that men should 
 choose to be pious, since otherwise no man can be throughly 
 secure. It is a wildness, not to dread the least possibility of 
 incurring such horrible mischiefs : any hazard of such import- 
 ance cannot but startle a man in his wits. To be in the least 
 obnoxious to eternal torments, if men would think on it as men, 
 (that is, as rational and provident creatures,) could not but dis- 
 turb them. And indeed so it is in experience; for whatever 
 they say, or seem, all atheists and profane men are inwardly 
 suspicious and fearful ; they care not to die, and would gladly 
 escape the trial of what shall follow death. But let us grant 
 or imagine the Epicurean successful as he could wish in this en-
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 61 
 
 terprise of subduing religion : yet except therewith he can also 
 trample down reason, new mould human nature, subjugate all 
 natural appetites and passions, alter the state of things here, 
 and transform the world, he will yet in the greatest part fail 
 of his conceited advantages; very short he will fall of triumph- 
 ing in a contented and quiet mind. That which accrueth 
 thence will at most be no more than some negative content, or 
 a partial indolency, arising from his being rescued from some 
 particular cares and fears ; which exceedeth not the tranquillity 
 of a beast, or the stupidity of one that is out of his senses : 
 that is all he can claim, which yet is more than he can ever 
 compass. For he cannot be as a beast, or a mere sot, if he 
 would : reason, reflecting on present evils, and boding others 
 future, will afflict him ; his own unsatiable desires, unavoidable 
 fears, and untameable passions, will disquiet him. Were the 
 other world quite out of his faith, or his thought, yet this world 
 would yield trouble sufficient to render him void of any steady 
 rest or solid joy. All men ever have, and ever will complain 
 that the burdens, crosses, satieties of this life, do much surpass 
 the conveniences and comforts of it. So that, were no other 
 to be expected or feared, this of itself would become grievous 
 and nauseous;* we should soon have enough or too much of it, 
 without a support and supply from otherwhere. In the largest 
 affluence of things, in the deepest calm of our state, we are 
 apt to nauseate, and are weary even of our prosperity itself; 
 the which indeed commonly hath ingredients not only some- 
 what unsavory, but very bitter and loathsome. We may add, 
 that had those profane attempters quite banished religion, they 
 with it must have driven away all the benefits and comforts of 
 it: which, even supposing them but imaginary, are yet the 
 greatest which common life doth need, or can desire : with it 
 they would send packing justice, fidelity, charity, sobriety, 
 and all solid virtue, things which cannot firmly subsist without 
 conscience : which being gone, human life would be the most 
 disorderly, most unsafe, most wretched and contemptible thing 
 that can be ; nothing but insipid and flashy sensualities would 
 be left behind to comfort a man witli ; and those hardly any 
 
 * Non tempestate vexor, sod nausea.— Senec. do Tranq. An. 1.
 
 62 BARROW. — SERMON III. 
 
 man (by reason of competitions and contentions for them, no- 
 wise restrainable) could enjoy quietly or safely. It is there- 
 fore piety alone, which, by raising hopes of blessings and joys 
 incomparably superior to any here, that cannot be taken from 
 us, can lay any ground of true content, of substantial and posi- 
 tive content; such as consisteth not only in removing the ob- 
 jects and causes of vexatious passions, but in employing the 
 most pleasant affections (love, hope, joy,) with a delightful 
 complacence on their proper and most noble objects. ' The 
 kingdom of God' (and that only, no other kingdom hath 
 that privilege) ' consisteth in righteousness' (first, then in) 
 ' peace and spiritual joy.' No philosopher, with truth and rea- 
 son, can make that overture to us which our Lord doth ; 
 ' Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and 
 ye shall find rest to your souls.' Out of religion there can be 
 no aphorism pretended like to that of the prophet, ' Thou 
 shalt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on 
 thee.' 
 
 If indeed we distinctly survey all the grounds and sources of 
 content, it will appear that religion only can afford it. 
 
 Doth it result from a well governing and ordering our pas- 
 sions ? Then it is plain that only a pious man is capable 
 thereof; for piety only can effect that: it alone, with the 
 powerful aid of divine grace, doth guide our passions by exact 
 rules, doth set them on worthy objects, doth temper and tune 
 them in just harmony, doth seasonably curb and check them, 
 doth rightly correct and reform them. * 
 
 This no bare reason (which naturally is so dim and so fee- 
 ble in man) can achieve : much less can unreasonableness do 
 it, which is ever prevalent in irreligious persons. Their pas- 
 sions do ever run wildly and at random, in no good pace, with- 
 in no good compass toward the meanest and basest objects ; 
 whence they can have no rest or quiet in their minds. As they 
 are constantly offending, so will they ever be punishing them- 
 selves, with intestine broils and conflicts, with dissatisfactions 
 and regrets. Hence, * there is no peace to the wicked.' ' He 
 
 • Mala mens — cum insidiatur, spe, cutis, labore dislrin^tur ; et 
 jam cum sceleris compos fuerit, soliciUidine, poenitentia, poenarum 
 omnium exspectatione torquetur. — Quint, xii. 1.
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. G3 
 
 is like the troubled sea, which cannot rest.' ' God (as St. 
 Austin speaketh) hath said it, and so it is, every inordinate mind 
 is a punishment to itself.'* 
 
 Doth content spring from a hearty approbation of, or a com- 
 placence in a man's own actions ;t from reflexion that he con- 
 stantly doth act according to reason and wisdom, to justice and 
 duty ? Then can the pious man alone pretend to it, who know- 
 eth that he walketh ' inoffensively toward God and man ;' that 
 he consulteth his own best interest and welfare ; that assuredly 
 no bad consequence can attend his unblameable behavior ; 
 that most wise men have declared their approbation of liis pro- 
 ceedings ; that if he prove in his chief design mistaken, yet no 
 mischief can thence befal him; yea, that he is not thereby 
 quite disappointed, seeing even much present satisfaction and 
 convenience do arise up to him from his practice. 
 
 Doth content grow from a sound and healthful constitution 
 of soul ? It is the pious man alone that hath that, whose mind 
 is clear from distempers of vice and passion. The impious man 
 is infirm, out of order, full of disease and pain, according to the 
 prophet's description of him ; — ' The whole head is sick, and the 
 whole heart faint : from the sole of the foot even unto the 
 head there is no soundness in it ; but wounds, and bruises, and 
 putrefying sores.' 
 
 Doth content arise specially from good success in our at- 
 tempts, or from prosperous events befalling us ? Then it is the 
 pious man who is most capable thereof : for he only is secure, 
 that what seemeth good and prosperous is really such to him, 
 as meant for his good by the divine goodness, as tending thereto 
 by the guidance of infallible wisdom. As he only hath ground 
 to hope for success, because he confideth in God, because he 
 dutifully seeketh God's help, because God is favorably disposed 
 toward him, because God * ordereth his steps,' because God is 
 
 • Nulla m;ijor poena nequitia3 est, quam quod sibi ac suis displi- 
 cet. — Son. Ep. 42. 
 
 Tifxcvpia Tracrrjs oSiKias aic6\ovdos. — I'iat. dc LcsT. ^• 
 
 Dcus jnssit, et ita est, Sibi poena est umnis inordinatus animus. — 
 Aug. Conf. 
 
 t Nisi sapicnti sua non piacent : omnis htuKitia laborat fastidio 
 sui. — Sen. JOp. 9.
 
 (U BARROW. — SERMON III. 
 
 by promise engaged to bless him, because he is conscious of 
 intentions to render God thanks and praise for it, to employ 
 his success to God's honor and service : so he only can be sa- 
 tisfied with the appearance of success, being able with assur- 
 ance to say after St. Paul, 'we know that to those who love 
 God all things cooperate for good.' 
 
 Is security from danger, from trouble, from want, from all 
 evil, a source or matter of content? It certainly doth attend 
 the pious man ; God being his especial protector, his comforter, 
 his purveyor. ' There shall no evil befal the just: there shall 
 no plague come near his dwelling.' * God keepeth all his 
 bones, not one of them is broken.' ' He delivereth the righ- 
 teous out of their troubles.' ' The desire of the righteous shall 
 be granted.' ' There is no want to them that fear God.' So do 
 the holy oracles assure us. 
 
 Doth contentedness spring from sufficiency, real or appre- 
 hended ? This appertaineth peculiarly to the pious man : for, 
 having God, the master of all, for ' his portion,' he hath the 
 richest estate that can be ; he hath all that he can desire, he 
 cannot but take himself to have enough. Hence ' godliness 
 with contentedness (fier ahrapiceias, with sufficiency) is,' as 
 St. Paul saith, /ueyas nopia/xos, ' the great way of gaining.' 
 He saith it not, as supposing godliness and contentedness 
 to be separable ; but rather as implying godliness therefore 
 to be most gainful, because sufficiency and contentedness do 
 ever attend it. In fine, if that saying of Seneca be true, 
 that, ' if to any man the things he possesseth do not seem most 
 ample, although he be master of the whole world, he is yet 
 miserable ;'* then assuredly the pious man only can be happy ; 
 for to him alone his possessions can seem the largest and best, 
 such as there can be no possible accession to, or amendment of. 
 For nothing can be greater or better than God, in whom he 
 hath a stedfast propriety, whose infinite power and wisdom 
 are engaged to do him the utmost good that he is capable of. 
 And farther, 
 
 III. Seeing we have mentioned happiness, or the sumnium 
 
 * Si cui sua non videntur amplissima, licet totius mundi iJominus 
 sit, tamen miser est. — Sen. Ep. 9.
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 65 
 
 bonum, the utmost scope of human desire, we do add, that piety 
 doth surely confer it. Happiness, whatever it be, hath cer- 
 tainly an essential coherence with piety. These are reciprocal 
 propositions, both of them infallibly true, He that is pious is 
 happy ; and, He that is happy is pious. No man doth under- 
 take or prosecute any thing which he doth not apprehend in 
 some order or degree conducing to that which all men under a 
 confused notion regard and tend to, which they call happiness, 
 the highest good, the chiefest desirable thing. But in their 
 judgments about this thing, or the means of attaining it, as 
 men dissent much ; so of necessity most of them must be mis- 
 taken. Most, indeed, do aim and shoot at a mere shadow of 
 profit, or at that which is very little considerable, and in com- 
 parison nothing at all ; which little conduceth to the perfection 
 of their nature, or the satisfaction of their desire. If they miss 
 the mark, they are disappointed ; if they hit it, they are no less, 
 and in eftect hit nothing. But whatever this grand matter is, 
 in whatever it consisteth, however it be procured ; be it the 
 possession and fruition of some special choice goods, or an 
 aggregation and affluence of all goods ; piety surely is the main 
 ingredient and principal cause thereof. All other goods with- 
 out it are insignificant and unuseful thereto ; and it cannot be 
 wanting where piety is. Be a man never so rich, so powerful, 
 so learned and knowing, so prosperous in his affairs, so honor- 
 able in the opinions and affections of men : yet nowise happy 
 can he be, if he is not pious; being he wanteth the best goods, 
 and is subject to the worst evils; being he wanteth the love 
 and favor of God, he wanteth peace and satisfaction of con- 
 science, he wanteth a right enjoyment of present things, he 
 wanteth security concerning his final welfare. Be he never so 
 poor, so low in the eyes of men, so forlorn and destitute of 
 worldly conveniences ; yet if he be pious, he cannot be 
 wretched ; for he hath an interest in goods incomparably most 
 precious, and is safe from all considerable evils ; he hath a free 
 resort to the inexhaustible fountain of all happiness, he hath a 
 right to immense and endless felicity, the which eminently con- 
 taineth all the goods we are capable of; he is possessed thereof 
 in hope and certain reversion, there is but a moment to pass 
 before his complete fruition of it. The want of all other petty
 
 66 BARROW. — SERMON III. 
 
 things no more can maim the integrity of his felicity, than 
 cutting the hair, or paring the nails, do mutilate a man : all 
 other things are but superfluities or excrescences in regard to 
 the constitution of happiness. Whatever happeneth, that will 
 assuredly be true, which is so much inculcated in holy Scripture, 
 ' Blessed is every one that feareth the Lord, that walketh in 
 his ways; happy shall he be, and it shall be well with him.' 
 Piety is indeed fraught with beatitudes, every part thereof 
 yieldeth peculiar blessedness. To the love of God, to 
 charity toward our neighbor, to purity of heart, to meekness, 
 to humility, to patience, to mercifulness, to peaceableness, 
 beatitude is ascribed by our Lord, the great Judge and 
 Dispenser of it. Each religious performance hath happy 
 fruits growing from it, and blissful rewards assigned thereto. 
 All pious dispositions are fountains of pleasant streams, 
 which by their confluence do make up a full sea of felicity. 
 
 IV. It is a peculiar advantage of piety, that it furnisheth 
 employment fit for us, worthy of us, hugely grateful and highly 
 beneficial to us. Man is a very busy and active creature, 
 which cannot live and do nothing, whose thoughts are in rest- 
 less motion, whose desires are ever stretching at somewhat, 
 who perpetually will be working either good or evil to himself; 
 wherefore greatly profitable must that thing be which deter- 
 mineth him to act well, to spend his care and pain on that 
 which is truly advantageous to him ; and that is religion only. 
 It alone fasteneth our thoughts, afl'ections, and endeavors, on 
 occupations worthy the dignity of our nature, suiting the ex- 
 cellency of our natural capacities and endowments, tending to 
 the perfection and advancement of our reason, to the enriching 
 and ennobling of our souls. Secluding that, we have nothing 
 in the world to study, to aff'ect, to pursue, not very mean and 
 below us, not very base and misbecoming us, as men of reason 
 and judgment. What have we to do but to eat and drink, 
 like horses or like swine ; but to sport and play, like children 
 or apes ; but to bicker and scuflle about trifles and imperti- 
 nences, like ideots? what, but to scrape or scramble for useless 
 pelf; to hunt after empty shows and shadows of honor, or the 
 vain fancies and dreams of men ? what, but to wallow or bask 
 in sordid pleasures, the which soon degenerate into remorse and
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 07 
 
 bitterness ? To which sort of employments were a man con- 
 fined, what a pitiful thing would he be, and how inconsider- 
 able were his life ! Were a man designed only, like a fly, to 
 buzz about here for a time, sucking in the air, and licking the 
 dew, then soon to vanish back into nothing, or to be trans- 
 formed into worms, how sorry and despicable a thing were he ? 
 And such without religion we should be. But it supplieth us 
 with business of a most worthy nature and lofty importance ; it 
 setteth us on doing things great and noble as can be ; it 
 engageth us to free our minds from all fond conceits, and 
 cleanse our hearts from all corrupt affections ; to curb our 
 brutish appetites, to tame our wild passions, to correct our 
 perverse inclinations, to conform the dispositions of our soul 
 and the actions of our life to the eternal laws of righteousness 
 and goodness : it putteth us on the imitation of God, and 
 aiming at the resemblance of his perfections ; on obtaining a 
 friendship and maintaining a correspondence with the High and 
 Holy One ; on fitting our minds for conversation and society 
 with the wisest and purest spirits above ; on providing for an 
 immortal state, on the acquist of joy and glory everlasting. It 
 employeth us in the divinest actions, of promoting virtue, of 
 performing beneficence, of serving the public, and doing good 
 to all : the being exercised in which things doth indeed render 
 a man highly considerable, and his life excellently valuable. 
 
 It is an employment most proper to us as reasonable men. 
 For what more proper entertainments can our mind have than 
 to be purifying and beautifying itself, to be keeping itself and 
 its subordinate faculties in order, to be attending on the ma- 
 nagement of thoughts, of passions, of words, of actions depend- 
 ing on its governance ? 
 
 It is an employment most beneficial to us; in pursuing which 
 we greatly better ourselves and improve our condition ; we be- 
 nefit and oblige others; we procure sound reputation and steady 
 friendships ; we decline many irksome mischiefs and annoy- 
 ances ; we do not, like those in the prophet, ' spend our labor 
 for that which satisfieth not, nor spend our money for that which 
 is not bread:' for both temporal prosperity and eternal felicity 
 are the wages of the labor which we take herein. 
 
 It is an employment most constant, never allowing sloth or
 
 68 BARROW. — SERMON III. 
 
 listlessness to creep in, incessantly busying all our faculties with 
 earnest contention ; according to that profession of St. Paul, 
 declaring the nature thereof, ' Herein always do I exercise my- 
 self, to have a conscience void of offence toward God and 
 toward man.' Whence it is called a ' light,' and a ' race,' 
 implying the continual earnestness of attention and activity 
 which is to be spent thereon. 
 
 It is withal a sweet and grateful business ; for it is a pious 
 man's character, that ' he delighteth greatly in God's command- 
 ments;' that 'the commandments are not grievous to him;' 
 that it is ' his meat and drink to do God's will ;' that ' God's 
 words (or precepts) are sweeter than honey to his taste;' that 
 ' the ways of ' religious ' wisdom are ways of pleasantness, and all 
 her paths are peace.' Whereas all other employments are wea- 
 risome, and soon become loathsome ; this, the farther we pro- 
 ceed in it, the more pleasant and satisfactory it groweth.* There 
 is perpetual matter of victory over bad inclinations pestering us 
 within, and strong temptations assailing us without : which to 
 combat hath much delight ; to master, breedethunexpressible 
 content. The sense also of God's love, the influences of his 
 grace and comfort communicated in the performances of devo- 
 tion and all duty, the satisfaction of good conscience, the assured 
 hope of reward, the foretastes of future bliss, do season and 
 sweeten all the labors taken, and all the diflSculties undergone 
 therein. 
 
 In line, the bare light of nature hath discerned, that were it 
 not for such matters as these to spend a man's care and pains 
 on, this would be a lamentable world to live in. There was, 
 for instance, an emperor great and mighty as ever did wield 
 sceptre on earth, whose excellent virtue, coupled with wisdom, 
 (inferior, perhaps, to none that any man ever without special 
 inspiration hath been endowed with,) did qualify him with 
 most advantage to examine and rightly to judge of things here; 
 who, notwithstanding all the conveniences which his royal 
 estate and well settled prosperity might aflbrd, (the which 
 
 * Non potest cuiquam semper idem placere, nisi rectum. — Sen. 
 20. 
 
 Dedit hoc providentia hominibus munus, ut bonesta magis juva- 
 rent. — Quint, i. 12.
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 69 
 
 surely he had fully tasted and tried,) did yet thus express his 
 thoughts : Tt /jlol Srjv ey KOfTfXM fcevw deQy, ?/ irpovoias Kevtp ; 
 ' What doth it concern me to live in a world void of God, or 
 void of providence ?'* To govern the greatest empire that ever 
 was, in the deepest calm ; to enjoy the largest affluences of 
 wealth, of splendor, of respect, of pleasure ; to be loved, to be 
 dreaded, to be served, to be adored by so many nations ; to 
 have the whole civil world obsequious to his will and nod ; all 
 these things seemed vain and idle, not worthy of a man's re- 
 gard, affection, or choice, in case there were no god to worship, 
 no providence to observe, no piety to be exercised. So little 
 worth the while common sense hath adjudged it to live without 
 religion. 
 
 V. It is a considerable benefit of piety, that it affordeth the 
 best friendships and sweetest society. Man is framed for 
 society, and cannot live well without it;t many of his facul- 
 ties would be useless, many of his appetites would rest unsatis- 
 fied in solitude. To have a friend wise and able, honest and 
 good, unto whom on all occasions we may have recourse for 
 advice, for assistance, for consolation, is a great convenience 
 of life : and this benefit we owe to religion, which supplieth us 
 with various friendships of the best kind, most beneficial and 
 most sweet unto us. X 
 
 It maketh God our friend, a friend infinitely better than all 
 friends, most affectionate and kind, most faithful and sure, most 
 able, most willing, and ever most ready to perform all friendly 
 offices, to yield advice in all our doubts, succor in all our 
 needs, comfort in all our troubles, satisfaction to all our desires. 
 Unto him it ministereth a free address on all occasions ; with 
 him it alloweth us continually a most sweet and pleasant in- 
 tercourse. The pious man hath always the all-wise God to 
 counsel him, to guide his actions and order his steps : he hath 
 the Almighty to protect, support, and relieve him; he hath 
 the immense Goodness to commiserate and comfort him ; unto 
 
 * M. Ant. ii. 11. vi. 10. 
 
 t Nullius boni sine socio jucunda possessio est. — Sen. Ep. G. 
 I Vt aliarum rcrum nobis innata dulcedo est, sic amicitiee. — Sen. 
 Ep. 9.
 
 70 BARROW. — SERMON III. 
 
 him he is not only encouraged, but obliged to resort in need : 
 on him he may, he ought to discharge all his cares and burdens. 
 
 It consequently doth engage all creatures in the world to be 
 our friends, or instruments of good to us, according to their 
 several capacities, by the direction and disposal of God. All 
 the servants of our great Friend will, in compliance to him, be 
 serviceable to us, * Thou shalt be in league with the stones of 
 the field, and the beasts of the field shall be at peace with 
 thee :' so Job's friend promiseth him on condition of piety. 
 And God himself confirmeth that promise ; ' In that day,' saith 
 he in the Prophet, ' will I make a covenant for them with 
 the beasts of the field, and with the fowls of heaven, and with 
 the creeping things of the ground.' And again, * When thou 
 passest through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through 
 the rivers, they shall not overflow thee : when thou walkest 
 through the fire, thou shalt not be burnt ; neither shall the flame 
 kindle on thee,' And, ' The sun shall not smite thee by day, 
 nor the moon by night.' ' Thou shalt tread on the lion and 
 adder, the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under 
 foot.' ' They shall take up scorpions ; and if they drink any 
 deadly thing, it shall not hurt them :' (so our Lord promised to 
 his disciples.) Not only the heavens shall dispense their kindly 
 influences, and the earth yield her plentiful stores, and all the 
 elements discharge their natural and ordinary good offices; not 
 only the tame and sociable creatures shall on this condition 
 faithfully serve us ; but even the most wild, most fierce, most 
 ravenous, most venomous creatures shall, if there be need, prove 
 friendly and helpful, or at least harmless to us: as were the 
 ravens to Elias, the lions to Daniel, the viper to St. Paul, the 
 fire to the three children. 
 
 But especially piety doth procure the friendship of the good 
 angels, that puissant host of glorious and happy spirits : they 
 all do tenderly love the pious person ; they are ever ready to 
 serve and do him good, to protect him from danger, to aid him 
 in his undertakings, to rescue him from mischiefs. What an 
 honor, what a blessing is this, to have such an innumerable 
 company of noble friends (the courtiers and favorites of hea- 
 ven) deeply concerned and constantly vigilant for our wel- 
 fare !
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 71 
 
 It also engagelh the blessed saints in glory, * the spirits of just 
 men perfected/ ' the church of the first-born/ to bear dearest af- 
 fection to us, to further our prosperity with their good wishes 
 and earnest prayers, mightily prevalent with God. 
 
 It rendereth all sorts of men our friends. To good men it 
 uniteth us in holy communion ; the communion of brotherly 
 charity and hearty goodwill, attended with all the good otfices 
 they are able to perform : to other men it reconcileth and en- 
 deareth us; for that innocent and inoffensive, courteous and 
 benign, charitable and beneficent demeanor, (such as piety doth 
 require and produce,) are apt to conciliate respect and affection 
 from the worst men. For, vincit malos pertinax bonitas ;* men 
 hardly can persist enemies to him whom they perceive to be 
 their friend : and such the pious man in disposition of mind, and 
 in effect when occasion serveth, is toward all men ;t being sen- 
 sible of his obligation to love all men, and, ' as he hath oppor- 
 tunity, to do good to all men.' It assureth and more strictly 
 endeareth our friends to us. For as it maketh us hearty, faith- 
 ful, constant friends to others ; so it reciprocally tieth others to 
 us in the like sincerity and fastness of good-will. + 
 
 It reconcileth enemies. For ' when a man's ways do please 
 the Lord, he maketh his enemies to be at peace with him.' 
 It hath a natural efficacy to that purpose, and divine blessing 
 promoteth it. 
 
 By it all conversation becometh tolerable, grateful, and use- 
 ful. For a pious man is not easily disturbed with any crossness 
 or perverseness, any infirmity or irapertinency of those he con- 
 verseth with : he can bear the weaknesses ^nd the failings of 
 his company ; he can by wholesome reflexions on all occur- 
 rences advantage and please himself.^ 
 
 In fine, piety rendereth a man a true friend and a good cora- 
 
 * Sen. (le Benef. vii. 21. 
 
 t Qui sibi amicus est, scito hunc amicum omnibus esse. — Sen. 
 Ep. 6. 
 
 I 01 ayaOol tjMs a\\i]\ots. — Arist. Etii. viii. 4. 
 
 § SuuSidyeiv re ovtos iavr^ jSouAerai* rjBfcos yap avrh iroie?. — (Arisl'of. 
 Eth i\. 4.) rci>v Te yap TTeirpay/xivuv fTriTtpirus al (xprjixai, Ka\ tuiv ixiWSvTUv 
 i\Tri5es ayadai.
 
 72 BARROW. — SERMON III. 
 
 panion to himself; satisfied in himself, able to converse freely 
 and pleasantly with his own thoughts.* It is for the want of 
 pious inclinations and dispositions, that solitude (a thing which 
 sometimes cannot be avoided, which often should be embraced) 
 is to most men so irksome and tedious, that men do carefully 
 shun themselves, and fly from their own thoughts ; that they 
 decline all converse with their own souls, and hardly dare look 
 on their own hearts and consciences : whence they become 
 aliens from home, wholly unacquainted with themselves, most 
 ignorant of their own nearest concernments, no faithful friends 
 or pleasant companions to themselves ; so for refuge and ease 
 they unseasonably run into idle or lewd conversation, where 
 they disorder and defile theraselves.f But the pious man is, 
 likeScipio, ' never less alone than when alone :'J his solitude and 
 retirement is not only tolerable, but commonly the most grate- 
 ful and fruitful part of his life ; he can ever with much pleasure 
 and more advantage converse with himself; digesting and mar- 
 shalling his thoughts, his aftections, his purposes into good 
 order; searching and discussing his heart, reflecting on his past 
 ways, enforcing his former good resolutions, and framing new 
 ones ; inquiring after edifying truths; stretching his meditations 
 toward the best and sublimest objects, raising his hopes and 
 warming his aftections towards spiritual and heavenly things ; 
 asking himself pertinent questions, and resolving incident 
 doubts concerning his practice : in fine, conversing with his best , 
 friend in devotion ; with admiration and love contemplating 
 the divine perfections displayed in the works of nature, of pro- 
 vidence, of grace ; praising God for his excellent benefits and 
 mercies; confessing his defects and ofteuces; deprecating wTath 
 and imploring pardon, with grace and ability to amend; praying 
 
 * Quaeris quid profecerim ? amicus esse mihi coepi.— Sen. Ep. 6. 
 
 t Nemo est, cui non satius sit cum quolibet esse, quam secura. — 
 Sen. Ep. 25. 
 
 Evioi rhv XStou Biou, ws arfp-r^aTarov 6eafj.a, wpoffiSeit' ovx inrofievovffiv, 
 &C. — Phlt. wepl UoKvirp. p. 916. 
 
 ZrjTovffiv oi fJ.ox6Tlpol ixfff S>v (rvfrifupeva-ovaiy, eavTovs Si <pevyov(riv. — Arist. 
 ix. 4. 
 
 I Nunquam minus solus, quam cum solus.
 
 THE PROFITABLENESS OF GODLINESS. 73 
 
 for the supply of all his wants.* All which performances yield 
 both unconceivable benefit and unexpressible comfort. So that 
 solitude (that which is to common nature so offensive, to cor- 
 rupt nature so abominable) is to the pious man extremely com- 
 modious and comfortable ; which is a great advantage peculiar 
 to piety, and the last which I shall mention. 
 
 So many, and many more than I can express, vastly great 
 and precious advantages do accrue from piety ; so that well 
 may we conclude with St. Paul, that * godliness is profitable 
 for all things.' 
 
 It remaineth that, if we be wise, we should, if we yet have 
 it not ingrafted in us, labor to acquire it ; if we have it, that 
 we should endeavor to improve it, by constant exercise, to the 
 praise of God, the good of our neighbor, and our own comfort. 
 AVhich that we may effectually perform, Almighty God in 
 mercy vouchsafe, by his grace, through Jesus Christ our Lord; 
 to whom for ever be all glory and praise. Amen. 
 
 * Acquiescit sibi, cogitationibus suis traditus. — Sen. Ep. 9. 
 
 Sapiens nunquam solus esse potest, babet secura omnes qui sunt, 
 quique unquatn fuerunt boni ; et animum liberum quocunque vult 
 transfert: quod corpora non potest, cogitatione complectitur ; et si 
 honiiuum iuops fuerit, loquitur cum Deo. Nunquam mjnus solus 
 erit, quam cum solus fuerit. — Hier. adv. Jovin, i. 28. 
 
 BAR. VOL. t.
 
 74 SUMMARY OF 
 
 SUMMARY OF SERMON IV. 
 
 1 SAMUEL, CHAP. II.-^VERSE 30. 
 
 The words of the text were uttered immediately by God him- 
 self, and therefore may well command our attention. They 
 plainly imply two things; a duty required of us, to honor 
 God ; and a reward preferred to us on the performance of that 
 duty, being honored by God. The method of this discourse is, 
 first, to estimate the reward, then to explain the duty ; after- 
 wards to show briefly why in reason the duty is injoined ; how 
 in effect the reward is conferred. 
 
 I. The reward may be considered either absolutely, as to 
 what it is in itself; or relatively, as to its rise, and whence it 
 comes. 
 
 1. For itself, it is honor; a thing, if valued according to the 
 rate it commonly bears, of highest price among all the objects 
 of human desire, the chief reward unto which the greatest and 
 best actions pretend : this point enlarged on : reasons given 
 why honor is in such request and of such force. The appetite 
 for it shown to be rooted in our very nature : examples of this 
 ambition in eminent men. A moderate regard for honor shown 
 even to be commendable, as an instance of good-will towards 
 others, and an argument of humility as it concerns ourselves. 
 The authority also of the more cool and candid sort of philoso- 
 phers alleged for its commendation, inasmuch as they have 
 ranked honor among the principal of things desirable, and 
 adorned it with fairest eulogies. But beyond all this, the holy 
 Scripture, that most certain standard by which we may examine 
 and determine the true worth of things, does not teach us to
 
 ■SERMON IV. 75 
 
 slight honor, but rather iii its fit order and just measure to love 
 and prize it : this is not only shown to be the case in temporal 
 affairs, but the blessed state hereafter is represented and recom- 
 mended to us as a state of honor and glory ; to be ambitious of 
 which is the character of a good man : Rom. ii. 6. 7. Such is 
 the precious reward proposed to us in itself: to obtain this re- 
 ward our text prescribes to us the certain and the only way. 
 
 2. Such a benefit is here tendered to us (which yet more 
 highly enhances its worth) by God himself: /, saith he, will 
 honor: he who is the prime author of all good, is in especial 
 manner the sovereign dispenser of honor. The king, we say, is 
 the fountain of honor. What any king, as the representative 
 and delegate of God, is in his particular kingdom, that is the 
 Almighty absolutely and independently in all the world : the 
 excellence and surety of his grants enlarged on. Consideration 
 of what it is which is here required of us, or wherein this ho- 
 noring of God consists, that we may thereby discern when we 
 perform this duty, and when we are deficient therein. 
 
 II. There are several ways of honoring God, or several parts 
 and degrees of this duty ; all of which may be referred to two 
 sorts, according to a distinction suggested by St. Paul, 1 Cor. 
 vi. 20. : one of them being, as it were, the form and soul, the 
 other the matter and body of the duty. 
 
 1. The soul of that honor which is required of us towards 
 God, is the internal esteem and reverence which we should bear 
 in our hearts for him ; signifying that we have impressed on our 
 minds such conceptions about him as are suitable to the perfec- 
 tion of his nature, to the eminency of his state, to the just qua 
 lity of his works and actions; that we apprehend him to be, 
 what he really is, in his nature superlatively good, wise, power- 
 ful, and just : this point enlarged on. 
 
 2. The bodily partconsistsin outward expressions and perform- 
 ances, whereby we declare our esteem and reverence of God, 
 and produce or promote the like in others. This viewed first in
 
 76 SUMMARY OF 
 
 its general or gross bulk ; next surveyed in its principal mem- 
 bers. 
 
 First, in general, God is honored by a willing and careful 
 practice of all piety and virtue for conscience sake, or in 
 avovs^ed obedience to his vv^ill. This is the most natural ex- 
 pression of our reverence towards him, and the most effectual 
 way of promoting the same in others : instanced in the conduct 
 of a good subject towards his prince ; and in this we are encou- 
 raged by the precepts of holy Scripture. 
 
 Secondly ; there are some members of this duty deserving a 
 particular consideration ; some acts which more signally con- 
 duce to the illustration of God's glory. Such are, 1. the fre- 
 quent and constant performance of all religious duties, in a seri- 
 ous, reverent manner : 2. the using all things peculiarly related 
 to him, his holy name and word, his holy places and times, 
 jwith especial respect : 3. the yielding due observance to his 
 deputies and ministers : 4. the freely spending what he has 
 given us in works of piety and charity : 5. all penitential acts 
 by which we submit unto God, and humble ourselves before 
 him : 6. the cheerfully undergoing afflictions or losses in pro- 
 fession of his truth, or obedience to his commands : 7. espe- 
 cially the discharging faithfully those offices with which God 
 has intrusted us, improving diligently the talents he has com- 
 mitted to us, and using carefully those means and opportunities 
 which he gives us of doing good: this topic enlarged on, and 
 recommended most strongly to those who are in power and au- 
 thority, whose example has the strongest effect and most exten- 
 sive influence on others. 
 
 III. ]t is shown why the duty is required of us, or how rea- 
 sonable it is. This point so clear, that many words need not 
 be spent on it. God surely does not exact honor from us be- 
 cause he needs it, because he is the better for it, or because he 
 delights in it for itself : this we cannot suppose if we consider 
 his nature and attributes. It is then only his pure goodness that
 
 SERMON IV. 77 
 
 moves him, for our benefit, to demand it of us. For to honor 
 God is, 1. shown to be the most proper work of reason : 2. 
 a most pleasant duty : 3. that it disposes us to imitate him : 
 4. that it is most beneficial to us, because by an eternal rule 
 of justice our final welfare is annexed to it, God having pro- 
 mised to confer honor on those who honor him. And, 
 
 IV. This promise he makes good several ways ; some of which 
 are briefly suggested. 1. The honoring God is of itself an 
 honorable thing, the employment which ennobles heaven itself. 
 2. By it we are immediately instated in great honor ; we 
 enter into noble relations, acquire illustrious titles, enjoy glo- 
 rious privileges, are adopted into God's family, and are styled 
 his children. 3. By God's peculiar ordinance honor is natu- 
 rally consequent on our honoring him ; for he has made good- 
 ness a noble thing, an object of esteem and reverence to all men. 
 4. By his extraordinary providence, as there is reason and 
 occasion, he interposes to maintain and further the reputation 
 of those who honor him. 5. Whereas men are naturally in- 
 clined to regard the judgment of posterity, and are anxious to 
 leave a good name behind them, God so disposes things that 
 the memory of the just shall be blessed. Lastly, to those who 
 honor him here, he has reserved an honor hereafter, to which all 
 the glories of this world are but as duskish fleeting shadows — 
 an honor most solid, most durable ; an eternal weight of glory.
 
 78 BARROW. — SERMON IV. 
 
 SERMON IV. 
 
 THE REWARD OF HONORING GOD. 
 
 I SAMUEL, CHAP. II. — VERSE 30, 
 For them that honor me I will honor. 
 
 The words are in the strictest sense the word of God, uttered 
 immediately by God himself; and may thence command from 
 us an especial attention and regard. The history of that which 
 occasioned them is, I presume, well known ; neither shall I 
 make any descant or reflexion thereon ; but to take the words 
 separately, as a proposition of itself, affording a complete in- 
 struction and ample matter of discourse. And as such, they 
 plainly imply two things : a duty required of us to honor God ; 
 and a reward proffered to us on performance of that duty, being 
 honored by God. It is natural for us, before we are willing 
 to undertake any work, to consider the reward or benefit accru- 
 ing from it ; and it is necessary, before we can perform any 
 duty, to understand the nature thereof. To this our method 
 of action I shall suit the method of my discourse ; first 
 endeavoring to estimate the reward, then to explain the duty. 
 Afterward I mean to show briefly why in reason the duty is 
 enjoined ; how in effect the reward is conferred. 
 
 I. The reward may be considered either absolutely, as 
 what it is in itself; or relatively, as to its rise, and whence 
 it comes. 
 
 1. For itself, it is honor ; a thing, if valued according to the 
 rate it bears in the common market, of highest price among 
 all the objects of human desire; the chief reward which the
 
 THE REWARD OF HONORING GOD. 79 
 
 greatest actions and which the best actions do pretend unto or 
 are capable of; that which usually bears most sway in the 
 hearts, and hath strongest influence on the lives of men ; the 
 desire of obtaining and maintaining which doth commonly over- 
 bear other most potent inclinations. The love of pleasure 
 stoops thereto : for men, to get or keep reputation, will decline 
 the most pleasant enjoyments, will embrace the hardest pains. 
 Yea, it often prevails over the love of life itself, which men do 
 not only frequently expose to danger, but sometimes devote to 
 certain loss, for its sake. If we observe what is done in the 
 world, we may discern it to be the source of most undertak- 
 ings therein : that it not only moveth the wheels of public 
 action, (that not only for it great princes contend, great armies 
 march, great battles are fought ;) but that from it most private 
 business derives its life and vigor: that for honor especially the 
 soldier undergoes hardship, toil, and hazard; the scholar plods 
 and beats his brains ; the merchant runs about so busily, and 
 adventures so far; yea, that for its sake the meanest laborer 
 and artificer doth spend his sweat and stretch his sinews. The 
 principal drift of all this care and industry (the great reason of 
 all this scuffling for power, this searching for knowlege, this 
 scraping and scrambling for wealth) doth seem to be, that men 
 would live in some credit, would raise themselves above con- 
 tempt.* 
 
 In such request, of such force, doth honor appear to be. If 
 we examine why, we may find more than mere fashion (or mu- 
 
 * ''iSojj S' i.v Kol tZv IdKOTUv Toiis fineiKeffrdrovs, inrep &\\ov ixev ovSevhs hv 
 rh ^rjv ocTi(caTaA.Aa|a/xeVow virip 8e rov Tvxeiv Ka\^s 6<5|7js, airoOvTiffKeiv i64- 
 \ovTas. — Isocr. Orat. ad Philip. 
 
 Mors turn aequissimo animo appetitur, cum suis se laudibus vita 
 occidens consolari potest. — Cic. i. Tusc. 
 
 — Laudis avidi pecunias Hberales erant, gloriam ingentem divi- 
 tias honestas volebant; hauc ardentissime dilexerunt, propter lianc 
 viveie vohierunt, pro hac et mori non dubitaverunt. Cteteras cu- 
 fiiditates bujus unius ingcnti cupiditate presserunt. — Aug. de Civ. 
 Dei, V. 12. 
 
 Ai yap SvvaaTfiai. Kal 6 rrXovros Sia rrjv rijxi)v icriv alpera.. — Arisf. Eth. 
 iv. 3. 
 
 Honos alit artes, omnesque incenduntur ad studia gloria, &c. — 
 Cic. Tusc. Quaest. 1.
 
 80 BARROW.— SERMON IV. 
 
 tiial imitation and consent) to ground the experiment on. 
 There is one obvious reason why no mean regard should be 
 had thereto ; its great convenience and usefulness : for that a 
 man cannot himself live safely, quietly, or pleasantly, without 
 some competent measure thereof; cannot well serve the public, 
 perform offices of duty to his relations, of kindness to his 
 friends, of charity to his neighbors, but under its protection, 
 and with its aid : it being an engine very requisite for the ma- 
 naging any business, for the compassing any design, at least 
 sweetly and smoothly ; it procuring to us many furtherances in 
 our proceedings, removing divers obstacles out of our way, 
 guarding a man's person from offences, adding weight to his 
 words, putting an edge on his endeavors : for every one allows 
 a favorable ear to his discourse, lends an assisting hand to his 
 attempts, grants a ready credence to his testimony, and makes 
 a fair construction of his doings, whom he esteems and respects. 
 So is honor plainly valuable among the bona utilia, SiS no small 
 accommodation of life ; and as such, reason approves it to our 
 judgment.* 
 
 But searching farther, we shall find the appetite of honor to 
 have a deeper ground, and that it is rooted even in our nature 
 itself. For we may descry it budding forth in men's first in- 
 fancy, (before the use of reason, or speech;) even little chil- 
 dren being ambitious to be made much of, maintaining among 
 themselves petty emulations and competitions,! as it were 
 about punctilios of honor. We may observe it growing with 
 age, waxing bigger and stronger together with the increase of 
 wit and knowlege, of civil culture and experience ; that the 
 maturest age doth most resent and relish it ; that it prevails 
 most in civilised nations ; that men of the best parts, of the 
 highest improvements, of the weightiest employments, do most 
 
 • Vide Hier. Ep. ad Celant. 
 
 Conscientia nobis necessaria est, fama proxima. Qui cooscientia 
 fidens, famam nejcligit, crudelis est.— Aug. 
 
 Ilphs xps^os imTT)dfLov opyavovi] S6^a, — Galen. 
 
 Nec vero negligenda fama est ; nee mediocre telum ad res geren- 
 das existimare oportet lienevolentiam civium. — Cic. de Amic. 
 
 Vide Chrys. torn. vi. Orat. 17. 
 
 t Vidi ego et expertus sum zelantem parvulum, &c. — Aug,
 
 THE REWARD OF HONORING GOD. 81 
 
 lealously affect it and stand on it; that they who most strug- 
 gle with it do most feel its might, how difficult it is to resist 
 and restrain it, how impossible it is to stifle or extinguish it. 
 For the philosopher with all his reasons and considerations can- 
 not dispute it down, or persuade it away ; the anchoret can- 
 not with all his austerities starve it, or by his retirement shun 
 it : no affliction, no poverty, no wretchedness of condition can 
 totally suppress it. It is a spirit that not only haunts our 
 courts and palaces, but frequents our schools and cloisters, yea, 
 creeps into cottages, into hospitals, into prisons, and even dogs 
 men into desarts and solitudes ;* so close it sticks to our nature. 
 Plato saith, it is the last coat which a wise man doth put off. 
 But I question whether he could show us that wise man who 
 had done it, or could tell us where he dwelt, except perhaps in 
 his own Utopian republic. For they who most pretend to have 
 done it (who in their discourse most vilify honor ; who talk 
 like Chrysippus, that a wise man for reputation sake will not 
 so much as stretch out his finger ; or like Seneca, that we 
 should do every thing purely for conscience sake, without any 
 regard to men's opinion ; who make harangues and write vo- 
 lumes against glory f) do yet appear by their practice, some- 
 times, by so doing, to aim at it : even as men do usually com- 
 plain of and eagerly quarrel with that which they most affect 
 and woo. Chrysippus wrote, as we are told, above 700 books, 
 most of them concerning logical quirks, and such as one can 
 hardly imagine what other drift he could have in composing 
 them, besides ostentation of his subtilty and sharpness of wit. 
 Seneca, if history do not wrong him, and the face of his actions 
 do not misrepresent him, was not in his heart exempt from a 
 spice of ambition. Yea, that excellent emperor M. Aurelius, 
 who would often speak like a Stoic, could not but commonly 
 act like a man, more by his practice commending honor, than 
 
 * In solitudine sitis subrepit superbia. — Hier. 
 
 t Nihil opinionis causa, omnia couscieutiaB faciam. — Sen. de 
 V. B. 
 
 Nil sit ilii cum ambitione famaque commune, sibl placeat. — 
 Epist. 113. 
 
 Justum esse gratis oportel. — lb. 
 
 Id. de Ira, iii. 41.
 
 a2 .• BARROW.— SERMON iV, 
 
 he disparaged it in his words. For story represents him very 
 careful and jealous of his credit, very diligent to preserve it 
 and to repair it.* Tertullian calls such philosophers negotia- 
 tor es Jama,\ merchants for fame : and it is perchance some 
 part of their cunning in that trade, which makes them strive to 
 beat down the price of this commodity, that they may more 
 easily ingross it to themselves. However, experience proves 
 that such words are but words, (words spoken out of affecta- 
 tion and pretence, rather than in good earnest and according to 
 truth ;) that endeavors to banish or to extirpate this desire are 
 but fond and fruitless attempts. The reason why is clear : for 
 it is as if one should dispute against eating and drinking, or 
 should labor to free himself from hunger and thirst : the appetite 
 of honor being indeed, as that of food, innate unto us, so as not 
 to be quenched or smothered, except by some violent distemper 
 or indisposition of mind ;]: even by the wise Author of our 
 nature originally implanted therein, for very good ends and 
 Hses, respecting both the private and public benefit of men ; as 
 an engagement to virtue, and a restraint from vice ; as an ex- 
 citement of industry, an incentive of courage, a support of 
 constancy in the prosecution of worthy enterprises ; as a ser- 
 viceable instrument for the constitution, conservation, and im- 
 provement of human society. For did not some love of honor 
 glow in men's breasts, were that noble spark quite extinct, 
 few men probably would study for honorable qualities, or per- 
 form laudable deeds; there would be nothing to keep some 
 men within bounds of modesty and decency, to deter them from 
 doing odious and ugly things; men, not caring what others 
 thought of them, would not regard what they did themselves; 
 a barbarous sloth or brutish stupidity would overspread the 
 world, withdrawing from common life most of its ornaments, 
 much of its convenience; men generally would, if not altoge- 
 
 * Erat famae sute curiosissimus, et male loquentium dictis vcl li- 
 teris ve sernione respondebat. — Capit. 
 
 t Tert. Apol. 
 
 X Ul quidam niorbo aliquo et sensus stupore suavitatem cibi non 
 sentiunt; sic libidinosi, avari, facinorosi veraj laudis gustum non 
 liabcnt.^Cic. Philipp. 2.
 
 THE REWARD OF HONORING GOD. S3 
 
 ther shun society, yet at least decline the cares and burdens re- 
 quisite to the promoting its welfare, for the sustaining which 
 usually the chief encouragement, the main recompense, is this 
 of honor. That men therefore have so tender and delicate a 
 sense of their reputation, (so that touching it is like pricking a 
 nerve, as soon felt, and as smartly offensive,) is an excellent 
 provision in nature ; in regard whereto honor may pass among 
 the bona naturalia, as a good necessary for the satisfaction 
 of nature, and for securing the accomplishment of its best 
 designs. 
 
 A moderate regard to honor is also commendable as an in- 
 stance of humanity or good will to men, yea, as an argument 
 of humility, or a sober conceit of ourselves.* For to desire 
 another man's esteem, and consequently his love, (which in 
 some kind or degree is an inseparable companion of esteem,) 
 doth imply somewhat of reciprocal esteem and affection 
 toward him; and to prize the judgment of other men con- 
 cerning us, doth signify that we are not oversatisfied witii 
 our own. 
 
 We might for its farther commendation allege the authority 
 of the more cool and candid sort of philosophers, (such as 
 grounded their judgment of things on notions agreeable to com- 
 mon sense and experience ; who adapted their rules of practice 
 to the nature of man, such as they found it in the world, not 
 such as they framed it in their own fancies,) who have ranked 
 honor among the principal of things desirable, and adorned it 
 with fairest eulogies ; terming it a divine thing, the best of ex- 
 terior goods, the most honest fruit and most ample reward of 
 true virtue ; adjudging that to neglect the opinions of men (,espe- 
 cially of persons worthy and laudable) is a sign of stupid base- 
 ness, that to contemn them is an effect of unreasonable haugh- 
 tiness ; representing the love of honor (rightly grounded and 
 duly moderated) not only as the parent and guardian (as pro- 
 ductive and preservative) of other virtues, but as a virtue itself 
 of no small magnitude and lustre in the constellation of virtues, 
 
 * Negligerc quid tie se tjuisque sentiat arrogantis est et disso- 
 luti. — Cic. de Ollic. i.
 
 84 BARROW. — SERMON IV. 
 
 the virtue of generosity.* A virtue which, next to the spirit of 
 true religion, (next to a hearty reverence toward the supreme 
 blessed Goodness, and that holy charity toward men which 
 springeth thence,) doth lift a man up nearest to heaven ; doth 
 raise his mind above the sordid desires, the sorry cares, the fond 
 humors, the perverse and froward passions, with which men 
 commonly are possessed and acted : that virtue which iniJames 
 a man with courage, so that he dares perform what reason and 
 duty require of him, that he disdains to do what is bad or base ; 
 which inspires him with sincerity, that he values his honesty 
 before all other interests and respects, that he abhors to wrong 
 or deceive, to flatter or abuse any man, that he cannot endure 
 to seem otherwise than he is, to speak otherwise than he means, 
 to act otherwise than he promises and professes ; which endows 
 him with courtesy, that he is ready to yield every man his due 
 respect, to afford any man what help and succor he is able : 
 that virtue which renders a man upright in all his dealings, and 
 correspondent to all his obligations ; a loyal subject to his 
 prince, and a true lover of his country, a candid judge of persons 
 and things, an earnest favorer of whatever is good and com- 
 mendable, a faithful and hearty friend, a beneficial and useful 
 neighbor, a grateful resenter and requiter of courtesies, hospita- 
 ble to the stranger, bountiful to the poor, kind and good to all 
 the world : that virtue, in fine, which constitutes a man of ho- 
 nor, who surely is the best man next to a man of conscience. 
 Thus may honor be valued from natural light, and according 
 to common sense. t 
 
 * 0e?Jj/ Ti T) TtfxTj. — Plat, de Leg^. iv. 
 
 Ka\hv rais iroWais TroAecrt rh irapaKeXevtrixi icTTt, wpoTifi^v evSo^iav vph tuv 
 ■"■oAAcDy.— Idem de Rep. xii. 
 
 Vliyiarov twu imhs ayadwv t) rifx.i). — Arist. Eth. iv. 3. 
 
 Levis est animi, juslam gloriam, qui est fructus virtulis honestis- 
 simus, repudiare. — Cic. in Pis. 
 
 Ex omnibus prasmiis virtutis amplissimum est praemiam gloria. — 
 Idem pro Mil. 
 
 t Trahimur omnes laudis studio, et oplimus quisque maxime 
 gloria diicitur. — Cic. pro Arcli. 
 
 Oj x^piiVTis Koi irpaKTiKol, plausiblc and active men do, saith Aris- 
 totle, place happiness in honor. — Eth. i. 4.
 
 THE REWARD OF HONORING GOD. 85 
 
 But beyond all this, the holy Scripture (that most certain 
 standard, by which we may examine and determine the true 
 worth of things) doth not teach us to slight honor, but rather 
 in its fit order and just measure to love and prize it. It indeed 
 instructs us to ground it well, not on bad qualities or wicked 
 deeds, that is villainous madness ; not on things of a mean and 
 indifterent nature, that is vanity ; not on counterfeit shows and 
 pretences, that is hypocrisy ; but on real worth and goodness, 
 that may consist with modesty and sobriety : it enjoins us not 
 to be immoderate in our desires thereof, or complacences therein, 
 not to be irregular in the pursuit or acquist of it ; (to be so is 
 pride and ambition ;) but to affect it calmly, to purchase it 
 fairly : it directs us not to make a regard thereto our chief 
 principle, not to propound it as our main end of action : it 
 charges us to bear contentedly the want or loss thereof, (as of 
 other temporal goods ;) yea, in some cases, for conscience sake, 
 or for God's service, (that is, for a good incomparably better 
 than it,) it obliges us willingly to prostitute and sacrifice it, 
 choosing rather to be infamous than impious, (to be in disgrace 
 with men rather than in disfavor with God :*) it, in fine, com- 
 mands us to seek and embrace it only in subordination and 
 with final reference to God's honor. Which distinctions and 
 cautions being provided, honor is represented in holy Scripture 
 as a thing considerably good, which may be regarded without 
 blame, which sometimes in duty must be regarded. It is 
 there preferred before other good things, in themselves not de- 
 spicable. For, * a good name is better than precious oint- 
 ment ;' yea, ' a good name is rather to be chosen than great 
 riches,' saith the wise man. It is called a gift of God : for, 
 
 • there is a man,' saith the preacher, ' to whom God hath given 
 riches and honor.' Yea, not only a simple gift, but a blessing, 
 conferred in kindness, as a reward and encouragement of good- 
 ness: for, 'by humility and the fear of the Lord,' saith he again, 
 
 * are riches and honor.' Whence it is to be acknowleged as 
 an especial benefit, and a fit ground of thanksgiving ; as is 
 
 * Non vis esse Justus sine gloria? at mehercule seepe Justus esse 
 debes cum infamia. — Sen. Epist. cxiii.
 
 86 BARROW. — SERMON IV. 
 
 practised by the Psalmist in his royal hymn : ' honor,' saith he, 
 ' and majesty hast thou laid on him.' Wisdom also is described 
 unto us bearing- ' in her left hand riches and honor :' and Wis- 
 dom surely will not take into any hand of hers, or hold therein, 
 what is worth nothing. No : we are therefore moved to pro- 
 cure her, because, ' exalting her, she shall promote us, — She 
 shall give unto our head an ornament of grace, a crown of glory 
 shall she deliver to us.' We are also enjoined to render honor 
 as the best expression of good-will and gratitude toward them 
 who best deserve in themselves, or most deserve of us ; to our 
 prince, to our parents, to our priests, especially to such of them 
 ' as govern and teach well,' to all good men, (' have such in 
 reputation,' says the Apostle.) And were not honor a good 
 |,hing, such injunctions would be unreasonable. Yea, because 
 we are obliged to bear good will toward all men, St. Peter bids 
 us to ' honor all men.' From hence also, that we are especially 
 bound to render honor unto God himself, we may well infer 
 with Aristotle, that ' honor is the best thing in our power to 
 offer.' To these considerations may be added, that we are 
 commanded to walk €Vfj-)(r]f.t6i'u)s, {decently, or speciously, 
 which implies a regard to men's opinion;) to 'provide things 
 honest in the sight of all men,' (ra KoXa, that is, not only things 
 good in substance, but goodly in appearance;) to ' have our 
 conversation honest before the Gentiles:' (KaXijv again, that 
 is, fair, or comely, and plausible, such as may commend us 
 and our profession to the judgment of them who observe us.) 
 St. Paul also exhorts us to mind, not only ' what things are 
 true, are just, are pure ;' but also ocra (refira, (' whatever things 
 are venerable,' or apt to beget respect,) liaa irpoacpiXfj, (' what- 
 ever things are lovely,' or gracious in men's eyes and esteem,) 
 (iaa €v<piifia, ('whatever things are well reported, or well 
 reputed of.') He requires us not only, ' if there be any vir- 
 tue,' (any thing very good in itself,) but ' if there be any praise", 
 (any thing much approved in common esteem,) that we should 
 ' mind such things.' Lastly, the blessed state hereafter (the 
 highest instance of divine bounty, the complete reward of good- 
 ness) is represented and recommended to us as a state of honor 
 and glory ; to be ambitious whereof is the character of a good
 
 THE REWARD OF HONORING GOD. 87 
 
 man. * To every man,' saith St. Paul, * shall God render ac- 
 cording to his works : to them, who by patient continuance in 
 well doing seek for glory, and honor, and immortality, eternal 
 life.' 
 
 Such is the reward propounded to us in itself; no vile or 
 contemptible thing, but on various accounts much valuable ; 
 that which the common apprehensions of men, plain dictates of 
 reason, a predominant instinct of nature, the judgments of very 
 wise men, and divine attestation itself conspire to commend unto 
 us as very considerable and precious. Such a reward our text 
 prescribes us the certain, the only way of attaining. 
 
 2. Such a benefit is here tendered to us (that which yet more 
 highly commends it, and exceedingly enhances its worth) by 
 God himself: 'I,' saith he, 'will honor.' It is sanctified by 
 coming from his holy hand ; it is dignified by following his 
 most wise and just disposal ; it is fortified and assured by de- 
 pending on his unquestionable word and uncontrollable power: 
 who, as he is the prime Author of all good, so he is in especial 
 manner the sovereign dispenser of honor. The king, we say, 
 is the fountain of honor. What any king, as the representative 
 and delegate of God, is in his particular kingdom, that is Al- 
 mighty God absolutely and independently in all the world. 
 * Both riches and honor,' said good king David, 'come of thee, 
 for thou rulest over all : in thine hand is power and might ; in 
 thine hand it is to make great, and to give strength unto all.' 
 He whose grants are in effect only sure and valid, whose 
 favors only do in the end turn to good account, he freely 
 offers us most desirable preferment : he doth himself gra- 
 ciously hold forth most authentic patents, by virtue of which 
 we may all become ' right honorable' and ' persons of quality 
 indeed ;' having not only the names and titles, the out- 
 ward ensigns and badges of dignity, (such as earthly princes 
 confer,) but the substantial reality, the assured enjoyment 
 thereof. (For man can only impose law on tongues and ges- 
 tures ; God alone commandeth and inclineth hearts, wherein 
 honor chiefly resideth.) He offers it, I say, most freely in- 
 deed, yet not absolutely : he doth not go to sell it for a price, 
 yet he propounds it under a condition ; as a most just and
 
 88 BARROW. — SERMON IV. 
 
 equal, so a very gentle and easy condition. It is but an ex- 
 change of honor for honor ; of honor from God, which is a free 
 gift, for honor from us, which is a just duty; of honor from 
 him our sovereign Lord, for honor from us his poor vassals ; of 
 honor from the most high Majesty of heaven, for honor from us 
 vile worms creeping on the earth. Such an overture one would 
 think it not only reasonable to accept, but impossible to refuse. 
 For can any man dare not to honor invincible power, infallible 
 wisdom, inflexible justice ? Will any man forbear to honor 
 immense goodness and bounty ? Yes, it seems there are men 
 so mad as to reject so fair an offer ; so bad as to neglect so 
 equal a duty. Let us therefore consider what it is that is here 
 required of us, or wherein this honoring of God consists, that 
 we may thereby discern when we perform this duty, when we 
 are deficient therein. 
 
 II. There are several ways of honoring God, or several parts 
 and degrees of this duty ; all which we may refer to two sorts, 
 conceiving the duty as a compound, made up of two main in- 
 gredients, (correspondent to those two parts in which they 
 reside, and of which our nature consists ; which distinction St. 
 Paul suggesteth when he saith, • Glorify God in your body, 
 and in your spirit, which are God's;') one of them being as it were 
 the form and soul, the other as the matter and body of the duty. 
 
 1. The soul of that honor which is required of us toward 
 God, is that internal esteem and reverence which we should 
 bear in our hearts towards him ; importing that we have im- 
 pressed on our minds such conceptions about him as are worthy 
 of him, suitable to the perfection of his nature, to the eminency 
 of his state, to the just quality of his works and actions: that 
 we apprehend him to be, what he really is, in his nature, super- 
 latively good, wise, powerful, holy, and just : that we ascribe 
 unto him the production and conservation of all beinsfs, together 
 with an intire superintendency over and absolute disposal of 
 all events : that we conceive ourselves obliged to submit unto 
 and acquiesce in all his dispensations of providence, as most wise 
 and most righteous; to rely on the declarations of his mind, 
 (whether in way of assertion or promise,) as infallibly true 
 and certain. In such acts of mind the honorina of God doth
 
 THE REWARD OF HONORING GOD. 89 
 
 primarily consist. In acts, I say : not in speculative opinions 
 concerning the divine excellencies, such as all men have who 
 are not downright atheists or infidels, floating in the fancy, or 
 dormant in the mind ; but in continually present, lively, effec- 
 tual acts of apprehension and judgment, sinking down into the 
 heart and aftections, and quickening them to a congruous, real 
 performance. Such an apprehension of God's power, as shall 
 make us to dread his irresistible hand, shall cause us to despair 
 of prospering in bad courses, shall dispose us to confide in him, 
 as able to perform whatever he wills us to expect from him : 
 such an opinion of his wisdom, as shall keep us from question- 
 ing whether that is best which God declares to be so ; as shall 
 hinder us from presuming (in compliance with our own shallow 
 reason or vain fancy) to do any thing against God's judgment 
 and advice : such a conceit of God's justice as shall render us 
 careful to perform what his law promises to reward, and fearful 
 to commit what it threatens to punish : such a persuasion con- 
 cerning God's goodness, as shall kindle in us a hearty affection 
 toward him, shall make us very sensible of his bounty, and 
 ready to yield returns of duty and gratitude unto him ; as shall 
 preserve us from being distrustful of his providence, or doubt- 
 ful in our need and distress of finding relief from him : such a 
 vigorous and fruitful esteem of God in all respects, as shall 
 produce in us dispositions of mind and actions of life agree- 
 able to our various relations and obligations to him ; becoming 
 us as his creatures and children, as his subjects and servants. 
 This is indeed the soul of the duty, which being absent, all 
 exterior (how specious soever) either professions or perform- 
 ances are but as pictures, having in them somewhat of resem- 
 blance in shape and color, nothing of life : yea, rather as car- 
 casses, not only dead and senseless, but rotten and filthy in 
 God's sight. ' This people,' saith God, ' do honor me with 
 their lips, but their heart is far from me.' Such honor is in- 
 deed no honor at all, but impudent abuse and profane mockery : 
 for what can be more abominably vain than for a man to 
 court and cajole him who knows his whole heart, who sees 
 that he either minds not, or means not what he says? It 
 behoves us therefore by all proper means, by contemplating 
 the works and actions of God, (his admirable works of nature,
 
 do BARROW. — SERMON IV. 
 
 the wise proceedings of his providence, the glorious dispensa- 
 tions of his grace,) by meditating on his word, by praying for 
 his grace, by observing his law and will, to raise up in our 
 hearts, to foment and cherish this internal reverence, which is 
 the true spring of all piety, the principle which forms and ac- 
 tuates that other sort, coming next to be touched on, being the 
 body of our due honor to God ; concurring in its order to the 
 integrity thereof, as without which the interior part would be a 
 kind of ghost, too thin in substance, too remote from sense, 
 too destitute of good fruit and use. 
 
 2. This bodily part consists in outward expressions and per- 
 formances, whereby we declare our esteem and reverence of 
 God, and produce or promote the like in others. For our thus 
 honoring God respects those two ends and effects, the uttering 
 our own, the exciting in others a reverence toward him. And 
 it we may first view in the general or gross bulk thereof; then 
 survey its principal members. 
 
 First, in general, God is honored by a willing and careful 
 practice of all piety and virtue for conscience sake, or in avowed 
 obedience to his holy will. This is the most natural expression 
 of our reverence toward him, and the most effectual way of 
 promoting the same in others. A subject cannot better de- 
 monstrate the reverence he bears toward his prince than by (with 
 a cheerful diligence) observing his laws; for by so doing he de- 
 clares that he acknowlegeth the authority, and revereth the 
 majesty which enacted them ; that he approves the wisdom 
 which devised them, and the goodness which designed them 
 for public benefit ; that he dreads his prince's power, which can 
 maintain them, and his justice, which will vindicate them; that 
 he relies on his fidelity in making good what of protection or of 
 recompense he propounds to the observers of them. No less 
 pregnant a signification of our reverence toward God do we 
 yield in our gladly and strictly obeying his laws ; thereby evi- 
 dencing our submission to God's sovereign authority, our esteem 
 of his wisdom and goodness, our awful regard to his power and 
 justice, our confidence in him, and dependence on his word. 
 As also the practice of wholesome laws, visibly producing good 
 fruits, (peace and prosperity in the commonwealth,) doth con- 
 ciliate respect unto the prince, he thereby appearing wise and
 
 THE REWARD OF HONORING GOD. 91 
 
 good, able to discern and willing to choose what confers to 
 public benefit ; so actions conformable to the divine law being 
 (by God's wise and gracious disposal) both in themselves 
 comely and lovely, and in effect, as St. Paul saith, ' good and 
 profitable to men ;' conducing indeed not only to private, but 
 also to public welfare, to the rendering human society com- 
 fortable, to the settling and securing common tranquillity, 
 the performance of them must needs bring great commenda^ 
 tion to the author and ordainer of them. By observing 
 them we shall, as St. Peter speaks, 'set forth the virtues of 
 him that called us ' to such a practice. The light and lustre 
 of good works done in regard to divine command, will cause 
 men to see clearly the excellencies of our most wise and 
 gracious Lord ; will consequently induce and excite them 
 ' to glorify our Father which is in heaven.' ' In this,' saith 
 our Saviour, * is my Father glorified, if you bear much fruit.' 
 The goodliness to the sight, the pleasantness to the taste, 
 which is ever perceptible in those fruits which genuine piety 
 beareth, the beauty men see in a calm mind and a sober 
 conversation, the sweetness they taste from works of justice 
 and charity, will certainly produce veneration to the doc- 
 trine which teacheth such things, and to the authority which 
 enjoins them. It is an aggravation of impiety, often insisted on 
 in Scripture, that it slurs, as it were, and defames God, brings 
 reproach and obloquy on him, causes his name to be profaned, 
 to be cursed, to be blasphemed : and it is answerably a cora^ 
 mendation of piety, that by the practice thereof we (not only 
 procure many great advantages to ourselves, many blessings 
 and comforts here, all joys and felicities hereafter ; but do also 
 thereby) beget esteem to God himself, and sanctify his ever- 
 blessed name ; cause him to be regarded and reverenced, his 
 name to be praised and blessed among men. It is by exemplary 
 piety, by ' providing things honest in the sight of all men ;' 
 by doing things honorable and laudable, (such are all things 
 which God hath been pleased to command us,) that we shall 
 be sure to fulfil that precept of St, Paul, of ' doing all things 
 to the glory of God ;' which is the body of that duty we speak 
 of. 
 ' Secondly, but there are, deserving a particular inspection,
 
 92 BARROW. — SERMON IV. 
 
 some members thereof, which in a peculiar and eminent manner 
 do constitute this honor : some acts which more signally con- 
 duce to the illustration of God's glory. Such are, 
 
 1. The frequent and constant performance (in a serious and 
 reverent manner) of all religious duties, or devotions immedi- 
 ately addressed to God, or conversant about him : that which 
 the Psalmist styles, * giving the Lord the honor due to his 
 name, worshipping the Lord in the beauty of holiness.' 
 
 2. Using all things peculiarly related unto God, his holy 
 name, his holy word, his holy places, (the places * where his 
 honor dwelleth,') his holy times, (religious fasts and festivities,) 
 with especial respect. 
 
 3. Yielding due observance to the deputies and ministers of 
 God (both civil and ecclesiastical) as such, or because of their 
 relation to God : the doing of which God declares that he in- 
 terprets and accepts as done unto himself. 
 
 4. Freely spending what God hath given us (out of re- 
 spect unto him) in works of piety, charity, and mercy ; that 
 which the wise man calls, ' honoring the Lord with our sub- 
 stance.' 
 
 5. All penitential acts, by which we submit unto God, and 
 humble ourselves before him. As Achan, by confessing of his 
 sin, is said to * give glory to the Lord God of Israel.' 
 
 6. Cheerful undergoing afflictions, losses, disgraces, for the 
 profession of God's truth, or for obedience to God's commands. 
 {As St. Peter is said ' by his death,' suffered on such accounts, 
 * to glorify God.' 
 
 These signal instances of this duty (represented as such in 
 holy Scripture) for brevity's sake I pass over ; craving leave 
 only to consider one, most pertinent to our present business, and 
 indeed a very comprehensive one ; which is this : 
 
 7. We shall especially honor God, by discharging faithfully 
 those oflSces which God hath intrusted us with ; by improving 
 diligently those talents which God hath committed to us ; by 
 using carefully those means and opportunities which God hath 
 vouchsafed us, of doing him service, and promoting his glory. 
 Thus he to whom God hath given m ealth, if he expend it (not 
 to the nourishment of pride and luxury, not only to the grati- 
 fying his own pleasure or humor, but) to the furtherance of
 
 THE REWARD OF HONORING GOD. 9» 
 
 God's honor, or to the succor of his indigent neighbor, (in any 
 pious or charitable way,) he doth thereby in especial manner 
 honor God. He also on whom God hath bestowed wit and 
 parts, if he employ them (not so much in contriving projects to 
 advance his own petty interests, or in procuring vain applause 
 to himself, as) in advantageously setting forth God's praise, 
 handsomely recommending goodness, dexterously engaging men 
 in ways of virtue, (doing which things is true wit and excellent 
 policy indeed,) he doth thereby remarkably honor God. He 
 likewise that hath honor conferred on him, if he subordinate it 
 to God's honor, if he use his own credit as an instrument of 
 bringing credit to goodness, thereby adorning and illustrating 
 piety, he by so doing doth eminently practice this duty. The 
 like may .be said of any other good quality, any capacity or 
 advantage of doing good : by the right use thereof we honor 
 God: for that men, beholding the worth of such good gifts, 
 and feeling the benefit emergent from them, will be apt to 
 bless the donor of them; as did they in the gospel, who, 
 seeing our Saviour cure the paralytic man, did presently 
 * glorify God, who had given such power unto men.' But 
 especially they to whom power and authority is committed, as 
 they have the chief capacity, so they are under an especial 
 obligation thus to honor God : they are particularly concerned 
 to hear and observe that royal proclamation, ' Give unto the 
 Lord, O ye mighty, give unto the Lord glory and strength ; 
 give unto the Lord the honor due unto his name.' When 
 such persons (like king Nebuchadnezzar returned to his 
 right senses) do seriously acknowlege their power and emi- 
 nency derived from God alone ; when they profess subjec- 
 tion unto him, and express it in their practice, not only driving 
 others by their power, but drawing them by their example, to 
 piety and goodness ; when they cause God's name to be duly 
 worshipped, and his laws to be strictly observed ; when they 
 favor and encourage virtue, discourage and chastise wicked- 
 ness; when they take care that justice be impartially admi- 
 nistered, innocence protected, necessity relieved, all iniquity 
 and oppression, all violence and disorder, yea, so much as 
 may be, all affliction and wretchedness be prevented or 
 removed ; when they by all means strive to promote both
 
 $4 BARROW. — SERMON IV. 
 
 Che service of God, and the happiness of men, (' dispensing' 
 equally and benignly to the family over which their Lord hath 
 set them, 'their meat in due season;' providing that men 
 tinder them ' may live a peaceable and quiet life, in all 
 godliness and honesty;' doing which is the business allotted 
 to them, the interest, as it were, of God, which he declares 
 himself concernedly to tender, and by their ministry to 
 prosecute ;) when they carefully do such things, then do they 
 indeed approve themselves worthy honorers of their high 
 Master and heavenly King; then do they truly act God's part, 
 and represent his person decently. When the actions of these 
 visible gods are so divinely good and beneficial, men will be 
 easily induced, yea, can hardly forbear to reverence and 
 magnify the invisible Founder of their authority. By so doing, 
 as they will set before men's eyes the best pattern of loyalty ; 
 as they will impress on men's hearts the strongest argument for 
 obedience and respect toward themselves; as they shall both 
 more plainly inform and more effectually persuade people to 
 the performance of their duty unto them, than by all the law 
 and all the force in the world ; as they will thereby conse- 
 quently best secure and maintain their own honor, and their 
 own welfare, (for men will never be heartily loyal and sub- 
 missive to authority till they become really good ; nor will 
 they ever be very good till they see their leaders such ;) so 
 they will together greatly advance the praise and glory of him 
 in whose name they rule, to whose favor they owe their power 
 and dignity ; ' in whose hand,' as the prophet saith, * is their 
 breath, and whose are all their ways.' For all men will be 
 ready most awfully to dread him, unto whom they see 
 princes themselves humbly to stoop and bow; no man will 
 be ashamed or unwilling to serve him, whom he shall observe 
 that his lords and governors do concern themselves to worship : 
 the world cannot but have a good opinion of him, a participa- 
 tion of whose power and majesty yields such excellent fruits ; 
 it will not fail to adore him, whose shadows and images are so 
 venerable. It is a most notorious thing, both to reason and in 
 experience, what extreme advantage great persons have, 
 especially by the influence of their practice, to bring God him- 
 self, as it were, into credit ; how much it is in their power
 
 THE REWARD OF HONORING GOD. 95 
 
 easily to render piety a thing in fashion and request. For in 
 what they do, they never are alone, or are ill attended ; 
 whither they go, they carry the world along with them : they 
 lead crowds of people after them, as well when they go in the 
 right way, as when they run astray. The custom of living 
 well, no less than other modes and garbs, will be soon con- 
 veyed and propagated from the court ; the city and country 
 will readily draw good manners thence, (good manners truly 
 so called, not only superficial forms'of civility, but real prac- 
 tices of goodness). For the main body of men goeth not qua 
 eundum, sed qua itur, not according to rules and reasons, but 
 after examples and authorities; especially of great persons, 
 who are like stars, shining in high and conspicuous places, by 
 which men steer their course : their actions are to be reckoned 
 not as single or solitary ones, but are, like their persons, of a 
 public and representative nature, involving the practice of 
 others, who are by them awed, or shamed into compliance. 
 Their good example especially hath this advantage, that men 
 can find no excuse, can have no pretence why they should not 
 follow it. Piety is not only beautified, but fortified by their 
 dignity ; it not only shines in them with a clearer lustre, but 
 with a mightier force and influence : a word, a look, (the least 
 intimation) from them will do more good than others' best elo- 
 quence, clearest reason, most earnest endeavors. For it is 
 in them, if they would apply themselves to it, as the wisest 
 prince implies, to ' scatter iniquity with their eyes.' A smile 
 of theirs were able to enliven virtue, and diffuse it all 
 about ; a frown might suffice to mortify and dissipate wick- 
 edness. Such apparently is their power of honoring God ; and 
 in proportion thereto surely great is their obligation to do it : 
 of them peculiarly God expects it, and all equity exacts it. 
 What the meaner rank of servants (who are employed in baser 
 drudgeries, whose fare is more coarse, whose wages are more 
 scant, who stand at greater distance from their lord, and re- 
 ceive no such ample or express marks of his favor, what these) 
 do is of some consequence indeed, but doth not import so much 
 to the master's reputation; their good word concerning him, 
 their good carriage toward him doth not credit him so much.
 
 96 BARROW. — SERMON IV. 
 
 But those whom he employs in matters of highest trust and 
 importance to his affairs, whom he places in the nearest degree 
 to himself, (seats even in his own throne, on his own tribunal,) 
 whom he feeds plentifully and daintily, maintains in a hand- 
 some garb, allows largely, as their deportment doth much 
 reflect on their lord's esteem, as they are highly capable of 
 advancing his repute; so all the rules of ingenuity and grati- 
 tude, all the laws of justice and equity do oblige them earnestly 
 to endeavor it. And it is indeed no less their concernment to 
 do so. For if there be disorders prejudicial to the master's 
 honor and interest frequently committed in the family, it is 
 those servants must be responsible ; if due order be there kept 
 to his glory and advantage, they shall chiefly be commended, 
 and peculiarly hear the euge, bone serve: they must be loaded 
 with other men's faults, or crowned for other men's virtues, 
 as their behavior hath respectively contributed to them. Those 
 universal rules of equity, proposed in the gospel, will, in God's 
 reckoning with and requiting men, be punctually observed : 
 'to whomsoever much is given, of him much shall be required ;' 
 answerable to the improvement of what is delivered in trust shall 
 the acceptance be. 
 
 I have insisted somewhat more largely on this point, because 
 our text hath a particular aspect thereon ; the words being ut- 
 tered on occasion of Eli, then judge in Israel, his not using 
 authority to these purposes ; his forbearing to redress a grievous 
 abuse, committed by his own sons, to the disservice and dis- 
 honor of God. Whence to persons of his rank is this law es- 
 pecially directed ; on them is this duty chiefly incumbent ; on 
 them assuredly, (as sure as God is true,) if they will observe 
 the duty, the reward shall be conferred. God will certainly 
 not only preserve the honor they have already, but will accumu- 
 late more honors on them. 
 
 These are general truths ; the particular application of them 
 is ours. God, I pray, vouchsafe his grace and blessing, that it 
 may be made to our benefit and comfort. 
 
 III. I should now show why the duty is required of us, or 
 how reasonable it is. I must not (and the matter is so palpa- 
 ble that I need not) spend many vvords on that. God surely
 
 THE REWARD OF HONORING GOD. 97 
 
 doth not exact honor from us because he needs it, because he is 
 the better for it, because he, for itself, delights therein. For 
 (beside that he cannot want any thing- without himself, that 
 he cannot any wise need mortal breath to praise him,* or 
 hands of flesh to serve him, who hath millions of better crea- 
 tures than we absolutely at his devotion, and can with a word 
 create millions of millions more fitter than we to honor him) 
 the best estimation we can have of him is much below him ; 
 the best expression we can make is very unworthy of him. 
 He is infinitely excellent, beyond what we can imagine or 
 declare : his ' name is exalted above all blessing and praise ; 
 his glory is above the earth and heaven.' So that all our 
 endeavors to honor him are, in comparison to what is due, but 
 defects, and in a manner disparagements to him. It is only 
 then (which should affect our ingenuity to consider) his pure 
 goodness that moves him, for our benefit and advantage, to 
 demand it of us. 
 
 1. For that to honor God is the most proper work of rea- 
 son ; that for which primarily we were designed and framed ; 
 (for as other things were made to afford the matter and oc- 
 casion, so man was designed to exercise the act of glorifying 
 God :) whence the performance thereof doth preserve and 
 perfect our nature ; to neglect it being unnatural and mon- 
 strous. 
 
 2. For that also it is a most pleasant duty. He is not a 
 man, (hath lost all natural ingenuity and humanity,) who doth 
 not delight to make some returns thither, where he hath found 
 much good will, whence he hath felt great kindness. Since 
 then all the good we have, we have received from God's favor, 
 it cannot but be very pleasant to render somewhat of requi- 
 tal, as it were, unto him ; and we can render no other but this. 
 We cannot make God more rich, more joyful, more happy 
 than he is : all that we can do is, to express our reverence to- 
 ward him. 
 
 :3. For that likewise our honoring God disposes us to the 
 imitation of him, (for what we do reverence we wo*uld resemble,) 
 
 'A/fTjpoTos yap aiirov ri ovaia Koi drej'Serjs oiiaa, oiiSeyhs Irepov irpoaSelrar 
 
 01 5e aivovvTfs alrov Xafxirporfpoi yivovrai — Chrysost. in Psal. cxiiv. ct 
 vide in Psul. ciii. 
 
 BAR. VOL. I. E
 
 98 BARROW. — SERMON IV. 
 
 that is, to the doing those things wherein our chief perfection 
 and happiness consists, whence our best content and joy doth 
 spring. 
 
 4. In fine, for that the practice of this duty is most profit- 
 able and beneficial to us; unto it by an eternal rule of justice 
 our final welfare and prosperity being annexed : whence God 
 hath declared it to be the way and condition of our attaining 
 that thing which we so like and prize, honor to ourselves ; the 
 Avhich by promise he hath engaged himself to confer on those 
 who honor him. And, 
 
 IV. This promise he makes good several ways : some of 
 them I shall briefly suggest. 
 
 1. The honoring God is of itself an honorable thing; the 
 employment which ennobles heaven itself, wherein the highest 
 angels do rejoice and glory. It is the greatest honor of a ser- 
 vant to bring credit to his master, of a subject to spread his 
 prince's renown, and (on grounds vastly more obliging) of a 
 creature to glorify his Maker : that we may do so is an honor 
 we should be glad, may be proud of. 
 
 2. By honoring God we are immediately instated in great 
 honor ; we enter into most noble relations, acquire most illus- 
 trious titles, enjoy most glorious privileges ; we become the 
 friends and favorites of heaven, are adopted into God's family, 
 and are styled his children ; do obtain a free access unto him. 
 a sure protection under him, a ready assistance from him in all 
 our needs. And what honor can exceed, can equal this ? 
 
 iJ. God hath so ordered it, that honor is naturally conse- 
 quent on the honoring him. God hath made goodness a noble 
 and a stately thmg ; hath impressed on it that beauty and ma- 
 jesty which commands an universal love and veneration, which 
 strikes presently both a kindly and an awful respect into the 
 minds of all men. ' The righteous is' (not only in himself, 
 but in common esteem) ' more excellent than his neighbor.' 
 Power may be dreaded, riches may be courted, wit and 
 knowlege may be admired ; but only goodness is truly es- 
 teemed and honored.* Not only men of goodness and discrt - 
 
 * rlvov Tov irXrtaiov rifj-idTepos eK tou <pavrjvai xP'?'"'<5''"6pos, Scc. — Naz. 
 Oral, de Paiip.
 
 THE REWARD OF HONORING GOD. 90 
 
 tion, but even the vulgar sort of men, (yea, as Plato hath 
 vpell observed, the worst men) do pass this judgment, do pre- 
 fer true goodness above all things.* 
 
 4. God, by his extraordinary providence, as there is reason 
 and occasion, doth interpose so as to procure honor to them, 
 to maintain and further their reputation who honor him. God 
 ' fashioneth the hearts of men :' the hearts of the greatest men 
 are in his hand ; ' he turneth them as the rivers of waters, whi- 
 thersoever he will :' he consequently raiseth or depresseth us, as 
 he pleases, in the judgments and affections of men. ' When a 
 man's ways please the Lord, he maketh even his enemies to 
 be at peace with him,' saith the wise man ; that is, he 
 disposeth the most averse minds to love and honor him. No 
 envy can supplant, no slander can deface the credit of such 
 a person ; since God hath taken it into his charge and care, 
 since he hath said it, that ' he will bring forth his righteous- 
 ness as the light, and his judgment as the noon day.' God 
 also by secret methods, and undiscernible trains, ordereth 
 all events, managing our thoughts and designs, our enterprises 
 and actions so, that the result of them shall be matter of bene- 
 fit, comfort, and reputation, or of disaster, regret, and disgrace, 
 as he thinks good. Victory and success he absolutely dispos- 
 eth of, and consequently of the honor that follows them ; and 
 they do usually attend the honors of God : for, as it is in the 
 Psalm, ' a good success have they who keep his command- 
 ments.' Many are the instances of persons, (such as Abra- 
 ham, Joseph, Moses, David, Job, and Daniel,) who, for their 
 signal honoring of God, from a base and obscure, or from 
 an afflicted and forlorn condition, have, in ways strange and 
 wonderful, been advanced to eminent dignity, have been ren- 
 dered most illustrious, by the providence of him, who ' raiseth the 
 poor out of the dust, and lifteth the beggar out of the dunghill. 
 
 Is gloria maxima cxcollit, (jui virtute plurimum priestat. — Cic. 
 KoT* o.\i]dnav & ayaOhs /xSvos rifjLriT6s. — Arist. Eth. iv. 3. 
 Adeo gratiosa virtus est, ut insilum sit etiam nialis probarc me- 
 liora. — Sen. de Bencf. iv. 17. 
 
 * 0e?(5c TJ KOI iijarroxiiv eo"i"« Kal ro'ts KaKols' IL-ffre ird/xiroWoi ruv (r(p65pa Ka- 
 kSiv f5 TOts K6yois Kal rals Sd^aiy Siaipowroj tuvs ajxiivovs ruiv avOpuTruv, Kal 
 Toiii xe''po"J' — Plat, dc Kepub.xii.
 
 100 BARROW. — SERMON IV. 
 
 to set them among princes, and to make them inherit the throne 
 of glory.' He doth it in an evident manner and eminent degree, 
 to some ; he doth it in a convenient way, and competent mea- 
 sure, to all that honor him. 
 
 5. AVhereas men are naturally inclined to bear much regard 
 to the judgment of posterity concerning them, are desirous to 
 leave a good name behind them, and to have their memory 
 retained in esteem : God so disposes things, that • the memory 
 of the just shall be blessed;' that * his righteousness shall be 
 had in everlasting remembrance;' that ' his light shall rejoice,' 
 (or burn clearly and pleasantly, even when his life is put out 
 here.) No spices can so embalm a man, no monument can so pre- 
 serve his name and memory, as apious conversation, whereby God 
 hath been honored and men benehted.* The fame of such a per- 
 son is, in the best judgments, far more precious and truly glorious 
 than is the fame of those who have excelled in any other deeds 
 or qualities. For what sober man doth not in his thoughts afford 
 a more high and hearty respect to those poor fishermen, who 
 by their heroical activity and patience did honor God in the 
 propagation of his heavenly truth, than to all those Hectors 
 in chivalry, those conquerors and achievers of mighty exploits, 
 (those Alexanders and Caisars,) who have been renowned for 
 doing things which seemed great, rather than for performing 
 what was truly good ? To the honor of those excellent poor 
 men, conspicuous monuments have been erected every where ; 
 anniversary memorials of their names and virtues are cele- 
 brated; they are never mentioned or thought of without re- 
 spect ; their commendations are interwoven with the praises of 
 their great Lord and Maker, whom they honored. f 
 
 6. Lastly, to those who honor God here, God hath reserved 
 an honor infinitely great and excellent, in comparison whereto 
 all honors here are but dreams, the loudest acclamations of 
 mortal men are but empty sounds, the brightest glories of this 
 
 * ''kvar/KT), d'S iuiKe, (jLiKeiv rifuv ko.) tov iirfiTa xp^^'ov eVeiST? Kol Txryxa- 
 vovai Kara Tiva (piaiv, ol /xeu a.i'dpaTroOu>5e(TTa70i, ovSiv (ppovTi^ovTes aurov' 
 oi 5' tVietKecTTaToi, ttuv iroiovvres ottujs av els rbv cTreira xpofov eS aKOvuxriv. — 
 Pint. Epist. ii. 
 
 t Tuv Se dov\uiv tov Xpiarov koi to. a-fjfxaTa Xafnrpa, Kal rjnepai Karapavf's, 
 ioprijp ttJ otKovfj.ifri Trotovaat, &c. — Clirys. in 2 Cor, Or. 27.
 
 THE REWARD OF HONORING GOD. 101 
 
 world are but duskish and fleeting shadows ; an honor most 
 solid, most durable ; ' an eternal weight of glory.' They 
 shall, in the face of all the world, be approved by the 
 most righteous Judge's unquestionable sentence ; they shall 
 be esteemed in the unanimous opinion of angels and saints ; 
 they shall be applauded by the general voice and attestation 
 of heaven ; they shall then be seated on unmoveable thrones, 
 their heads encircled with unfading crowns, their faces shining 
 with rays of unconceivable glory and majesty. The less of 
 honor they have received here in this transitory moment of 
 life, the more thereof they shall enjoy in that future eternal 
 state ; where, with him who, through the whole course of his 
 life, ' sought not his own honor, but the honor of him that sent 
 him ;' who, ' for the suffering of death, was crowned with glory 
 and honor ;' who, ' for the joy that was set before him, endured 
 the cross, despising the shame, and is set at the right hand of 
 Ood ;' with those who consecrated all their endeavors, and who 
 sacrificed their lives to the promoting of God's honor, they shall 
 possess everlasting glory. Which, together with them, God 
 Almighty of his infinite mercy grant unto us all, through Jesus 
 Christ our Lord ; to whom, with God the Father, and God the 
 Holy Ghost, be for ever all honor and praise. Amen.
 
 102 SUMMARY OF 
 
 SUxMMARY OF SERMON V. 
 
 PROVERBS, CHAP. X. — VERSE 9. 
 
 The heads of men are generally very busy in contrivance, 
 and their mouths are full of talk about consulting their safetj'^or 
 securing their interests. We might presume therefore that any 
 infallible maxim of policy, which proposed the most expedite 
 and certain method of security in all our transactions, would 
 be entertained with acceptance. Such an one does the great- 
 est politician and wisest of men here suggest to us. He that 
 walketh vprightly, walkeih surely. In the explication of this 
 aphorism, the practice itself is first briefly described : next 
 some considerations are proposed to show that security does 
 attend it. 
 
 To walk, as well in holy Scripture as in other writings, sig- 
 nifies our usual course of dealing, or the constant tenor of 
 our practice. Uprightly , according to the original, might be 
 rendered in perftction. or with integrity ; and by the Greek trans • 
 lators is in several places supposed chiefly to denote sincerity 
 and purity of intention. In eftect, the phrase, he that walketh 
 uprightly, imports one who is constantly disposed in his designs 
 and dealings to regard the rules of his duty and the dictates of 
 his conscience, in conformity to sound reason and God's law : 
 this point enlarged on. 
 
 That such a person proceeds ever with security, may appear 
 from the following considerations. 
 
 I. An upright walker is secure of easily finding his way ; 
 since it requires no great reach of wit or depth of judgment, no 
 laborious diligence of inquiry, to discern in any case what i>
 
 SERMON V. 108 
 
 just. The ways of iniquity and vanity shown to be difficult 
 and perplexing; but those of truth so simple, uniform, and 
 clear, that we can hardly miss or swerve from them : these 
 points enlarged on and illustrated from Scripture. 
 
 II. The upright walker treads on firm ground. He builds 
 not his practice on the perilous bogs, treacherous quagmires, 
 and devouring quicksands of bold and impious paradoxes, (like 
 those invented by Epicurus, Machiavel, and others whose 
 names are too well known, as the effects of their pestilent 
 notions are too much felt,) but on solid, safe, and well tried 
 principles • these enumerated and explained. 
 
 III. The upright person walks steadily, maintaining his 
 principal resolutions, and holding his main course, through all 
 occasions, without wavering or fickleness ; his integrity being 
 an excellent ballast against the waves of temptation. Lust, 
 passion, humor, interest, are things very mutable, as depending 
 on temper of body, casualties of time, winds and tides of this 
 vertiginous world : whence he that is guided by them must 
 needs be many-minded, and unstable in all his ways : but a 
 good conscience is steady and remains so through all circum- 
 stances of time, and in all vicissitudes of fortune, &c. 
 
 IV. The way of uprightness is the surest for dispatch, and 
 the shortest cut towards the attainment or execution of auy 
 good purpose ; securing a man from irksome expectations and 
 tedious delays. It is in Scripture called the strait and plain 
 way. As in geometry, of all lines or surfaces contained within 
 the same bounds, the straight line and the plain surface are 
 the shortest ; so is it also in morality : this topic en- 
 larged on. 
 
 V. The way of uprightness is in itself very safe, free from 
 danger, tending to no mischief; according to the saying of the 
 wise man, there shall no evil happen to the Just. He that de- 
 signeth only what is just and reasonable will probably not re- 
 ceive much trouble from the world : he may be sure that few
 
 104 SUMMARY OF 
 
 Avise men, and no good men, will annoy him, but will rather 
 aftbrd countenance to his undertakings. He will assuredly 
 have the favorable protection of Almighty God ; and what- 
 ever the success of his undertakings may be, the sequel will 
 be tolerable ; for his conscience will be safe, his credit intire, 
 and his hopes good, &c. 
 
 VI. The way of uprightness is fair and pleasant : a hopeful 
 confidence and a cheerful satisfaction ever wait on him that 
 walketh in it: this topic fully treated ; showing how true it is 
 on all accounts, that, according to the psalmist's assertion, light 
 is sown for the righteous, and joyful gladness for the upright 
 in heart. 
 
 VII. He that walketh uprightly is secure as to his honor 
 and credit : by pure integrity a man first maintains a due re- 
 spect and esteem for himself, and then preserves an intire repu- 
 tation with others : he reflects on his own heart with compla- 
 cency, and looks on the v,orld with confidence. The issue of 
 all his dealings will assuredly be creditable to him ; for God 
 himself will be concerned to vindicate his reputation. If he 
 finds good success, it will not occasion envy ; if he seems dis- 
 appointed, he will not be disparaged. 
 
 VIII. The particular methods of acting to which upright- 
 ness disposes us, yield great security from troubles and crosses. 
 The conduct which the upright man observes in his transactions 
 with the world fully stated : this shown to be the most secure 
 possible, afii"ording him many great advantages, exempting 
 him from manifold fears and cares and crosses. 
 
 IX. An upright walker hath perfect security, as to the 
 final result of aff'airs, that he shall not be quite baffled in his 
 expectations and desires. If prosperity consists in a satisfac- 
 tion of mind concerning events, he cannot fail of it. Whatso- 
 ever he doeth, sviys the psalmist of him, t< shall prosper : this 
 explained. He cannot be much defeated in his purposes, for 
 his principal designs being to please God and procure his favor.
 
 SERMON V. 105 
 
 10 benefit his neighbor and do good to his own soul, they can- 
 not fail of accomplishment. To a person so disposed, that 
 success which seems most adverse, may often be reputed the 
 most happy, as producing ends incomparably more excellent 
 than any worldly gain. If this does not satisfy grosser appre- 
 hensions, it may be added that even in these meaner concerns 
 Almighty God is pleased commonly to reward and encourage 
 upright persons by the best success ; having as it were an in- 
 clination to gratify those who desire to please him. As the 
 psalmist expresses it, he hath pleasure in the prosperity of his 
 servants. 
 
 X. In conclusion ; it is an infinite advantage of upright 
 dealing, that at the last issue, when all things shall be most 
 accurately tried and impartially decided, a man is sure to be 
 fully justified in it, and plentifully rewarded for it. As then 
 all the deceits which now pass under specious masks, shall be 
 laid bare, all contrivers of mischief or practisers of guile shall 
 be exposed to shame and lie down in sorrow ; so then the 
 righteous man shall stand in great boldness; his case shall be 
 cleared from all slanderous aspersions ; what he hath done 
 shall be approved; what he hath suffered shall be repaired : for 
 in the day when God shall judge the secrets of men hy Jesus 
 Christ, every man's work shall be made manijest.
 
 iOG BARROW. — SERMON V, 
 
 SERMON V. 
 UPRIGHT WALKING SURE WALKING. 
 
 PROVERBS, CHAP. X. — VERSE 9. 
 He that %valketh uprightly, walketh surely. 
 
 The world is much addicted to the politics ; the heads ot 
 men are very busy in contrivance, and their mouths are full of 
 talk about the ways of consulting our safety, and securing our 
 interests. May we not therefore presume that an infallible 
 maxim of policy, proposing the most expedite and certain 
 method of security in all our transactions, will be entertained 
 with acceptance? Such an one the greatest politician and wisest 
 man for business (if we may take God's own word for it) that 
 ever was or will be, doth here suggest to us. For the practice 
 couched in our text he otherwhere voucheth for a point of 
 policy, telling us that • a man of understanding walketh up- 
 rightly;' and here he recommendeth it as a method of security, 
 ' he that walketh uprightly, walketh surely.' 
 
 Treating on which aphorism, I shall, by God's help, endea- 
 vor, first, in way of explication, briefly to describe the practice 
 itself; then, in way of proof, by some considerations to declare 
 that security doth attend it. 
 
 For explication. 'To walk '(as well in the style of holy 
 Scripture as in other writings, and even in common speech) 
 doth signify our usual course of dealing, or the constant tenor 
 «)f our practice. 
 
 ' Upi ightly,' according to the original, (D1J12) might be ren-
 
 UPRIGHT WALKING SURE WALKING. 107 
 
 dered, 'in perfection,' or 'with integrity:' and by the Greek 
 translators in several places is supposed chiefly to denote sin- 
 cerity and purity of intention. 
 
 In effect the phrase, ' he that walketh uprightly,' doth im- 
 port one who is constantly disposed in his designs and dealings 
 to bear a principal regard to the rules of his duty, and the 
 dictates of his conscience ; who in every case emergent is ready 
 to perform that, which on good deliberation doth appear most 
 just and fit, in conformity to God's law and sound reason, with- 
 out being swayed by any appetite, any passion, any sinister re- 
 spect to his own private interest of profit, credit, or pleasure, 
 to the commission of any unlawful, irregular, unworthy, or base 
 act ; who generally doth act out of good principles ; (namely, 
 reverence to God, charity to men, sober regard to his o^vn true 
 welfare ;) who doth aim at good ends, that is, at God's honor, 
 public benefit, his own salvation, other good things subordinate 
 to those, or well consistent with them ; who doth prosecute his 
 designs by lawful means, in fair ways, such as honest providence 
 and industry, veracity and fidelity, dependence on God's help, 
 and prayer for his blessing : in short, one who never advi- 
 sedly doth undertake any bad thing, nor any good thing to 
 ill purposes ; nor doth use any foul means to compass his 
 intents. 
 
 For proof. That such an one doth ever proceed with much 
 security, from the following considerations may appear. 
 
 I. An upright walker is secure of easily finding his way. For 
 it commonly requireth no reach of wit or depth of judgment, 
 no laborious diligence of inquiry, no curious intentness of ob- 
 servation, no solicitous care, or plodding study, to discern in any 
 case what is just ; we need not much trouble our heads about it, 
 for we can hardly be to seek for it. If we will but open our 
 eyes, it lieth in view before us, being the plain, straight, obvi- 
 ous road which common reason prompteth, or which ordinary 
 instruction pointeth out to us : so that usually that direction of 
 Solomon is sufficient, ' let thine eyes look right on, and let thine 
 eye-lids look straight before thee. — Turn not to the right hand, 
 nor to the left.' 
 
 The ways of iniquity and vanity, (if we may call them ' ways' 
 which indeed are but exorbitances and seductions from the
 
 JOB BARROW. — SERMON V, 
 
 way,) ill designs and bad means of executing designs, are very 
 unintelligible, very obscure, abstruse, and intricate ; being in- 
 finitely various, and utterly uncertain : so that out of thera to 
 pick and fix on this or that may puzzle our heads, and perplex 
 our hearts ; as to pursue any of them may involve us in great 
 difliculty and trouble. But the ways of truth, of right, of vir- 
 tue, are so very simple and uniform, so fixed and permanent, 
 so clear and notorious, that we can hardly miss them, or (except 
 wilfully) swerve from them. For they by divine wisdom were 
 chalked out, not only for ingenious and subtile persons, (men 
 of great parts, of refined wits, of long experience,) but rather 
 for the vulgar community of men, the great body of God's sub- 
 jects, consisting in persons of meanest capacity and smallest 
 improvement : being designed to * make wise the simple,' to 
 ' give the young man knowlege and discretion :' to direct all 
 sorts of people in their duty, toward their happiness ; accord- 
 ing to that in the prophet, ' A high way shall be there, and it 
 shall be called the way of holiness — the wayfaring men, 
 though fools, shall not err therein.' 
 
 They are in very legible characters graven by the finger of 
 God on our hearts and consciences, so that by any considerate 
 reflexion inwards we may easily read them : or they are extant 
 in God's word, there written as with a sunbeam, so perspicu- 
 ously expressed, so frequently inculcated, that without gross 
 negligence or strange dulness we cannot but descsy them. For 
 who with half an eye may not see that tlie practice of pious 
 love and reverence toward God, of intire justice and charity 
 toward our neighbor, of sober temperance and purity toward 
 ourselves, is approved by reason, is prescribed by God to 
 us? 
 
 Hence in the holy Scriptures, as bad ways are called dark, 
 crooked, rough, slippery ways ; so the good ways are said to 
 be clear, plain, direct, even ways : ' The path of the just,' 
 say they, ' is as a shining light.' ' All the words of my mouth 
 are plain to him that understandeth.'f (or, ' that considereth 
 them.) ' My foot standeth in an even place.' ' The law of 
 his God is in his heart : and none of his steps shall slide.' 
 
 Hence it is affirmed that an upright man doth hardly need 
 any conduct beside his own honesty. For, ' the integrity,,
 
 UPRIGHT WALKING SURE WALKING. 109 
 
 saith Solomon, 'of the upright shall guide them ;' and, ' the 
 righteousness of the perfect shall direct his way.' 
 
 But in case such an one should ever be at a stand or at a 
 loss, in doubt of his course, he hath always at hand a most sure 
 guide to conduct or direct him. It is but asking the way of 
 him, or saying with the psalmist, ' show me thy ways, O Lord, 
 teach me thy paths; teach me to do thy will,' and, ' lead me 
 in the way everlasting ; O let me not wander from thy com- 
 mandments :' and then ' his ears,' as the prophet saith, * shall 
 hear a word behind him, saying. This is the way, walk ye in 
 it;' then the words of the psalmist shall be verified, ' What 
 man is he that feareth the Lord ?' ' Him shall he teach in the 
 way that he shall choose.' 'The meek will he guide in judg- 
 ment, and the meek he will teach his way.' 
 
 Hence is the upright man happily secured from tiring pains 
 in the search, from racking anxieties in the choice, from grating 
 scruples and galling regrets in the pursuit of his way. 
 
 II. The upright walker doth tread on firm ground. He 
 doth build his practice, not on the perilous bogs, the treache- 
 rous quagmires, the devouring quicksands of uncouth, bold, 
 impious paradoxes, (such as have been vented by Epicurus, by 
 Machiavel, by others more lately, whose infamous names are 
 too well known, as the effects of their pestilent notions are too 
 much felt;) but on solid, safe, approved, and well-tried prin- 
 ciples ; namely, these, and the like coherent with them : that 
 there is an eternal God, incomprehensibly powerful, wise, just, 
 and good ; who is always present with us, and ever intent 
 on us ; viewing not only all our external actions, (open and 
 secret,) but our inmost cogitations, desires, and intentions, by 
 the which our actions chiefly are to be estimated : that he, as 
 governor of the world, and judge of men, doth concern him- 
 self in all human affairs, disposing and managing all events 
 according to his righteous pleasure ; exacting punctual obedi- 
 ence to his laws, and dispensing recompenses answerable 
 thereto; with impartial justice rewarding each man according 
 to the purposes of his heart and the practices of his life : that 
 all our good and happiness doth absolutely depend on God's 
 favor; so that to please him can only be true wisdom, and to 
 offend him the greatest folly : that virtue is incomparai)ly the
 
 110 BARROW. — SERMON V. 
 
 best endowment whereof we are capable, and sin the worst 
 mischief to which we are liable : that no worldly good or evil 
 is considerable in comparison with goods or evils spiritual: that 
 nothing can be really profitable or advantageous to us, which 
 doth not consist with our duty to God, doth not somewise 
 conduce to our spiritual interest and eternal welfare : yea, 
 that every thing not serviceable to those purposes is either a 
 frivolous trifle, or a dangerous snare, or a notable damage, or 
 a woful bane to us : that content of mind, springing from inno- 
 cence of life, from the faithful discharge of our duty, from sa- 
 tisfaction of conscience, from a good hope in regard to God 
 and our future state, is in our esteem and choice much to be 
 preferred before all the delights which any temporal possession 
 or fruition can afford; and, that a bad mind is the sorest ad- 
 versity which can befal us. Such are the grounds of uprieht 
 practice, more firm than any rock, more unshakeable than the 
 foundations of heaven and earth ; the which are assured by the 
 sacred oracles, and attested by many remarkable providences ; 
 have ever been avowed by the wiser sort, and admitted by the 
 general consent of men, as for their truth, most agreeable to 
 reason, and for their usefulness, approved by constant expe- 
 rience; the belief of them having apparently most wholesome 
 influence on all the concerns of life, both public and private ; 
 indeed, being absolutely needful for upholding government, 
 and preserving human society ; no obligation, no faith or con- 
 fidence between men, no friendship or peace being able to sub- 
 sist without it. Whence the practice built on such foundations 
 must be very secure. And if God shall not cease to be, if he 
 will not let go the reins, if his word cannot deceive, if the 
 wisest men are not infatuated, if the common sense of mankind 
 do not prove extravagant, if the main props of life and pillars 
 of society do not fail ; he that walketh uprightly doth proceed 
 on sure grounds. 
 
 III. The upright person doth walk steadily, maintaining his 
 principal resolutions, and holding his main course, through all 
 occasions, without flinching or wavering, or desultory incon- 
 sistence and fickleness ; his integrity being an excellent bal- 
 last, holding him tight and well poised in his deportment ; 
 so that waves of temptation dashing on him do not make
 
 UPRIGHT WALKING SURE WALKING. Ill 
 
 him roll in uncertainty, or topple over into unworthy prac- 
 tices. 
 
 Lust, passion, humor, interest, are things very mutable, as 
 depending- on temper of body, casualties of time, the winds and 
 tides of this vertiginous world : whence he that is guided or 
 moved by them must needs be ' many minded ' and ' unstable 
 in all his ways ;' will ' reel to and fro like a drunken man, and 
 be at his wit's end ;' never enjoying any settled rest of mind, 
 or observing a smooth tenor of action. But a good conscience 
 is very stable, and persisteth unvaried through all circumstances 
 of time, in all vicissitudes of fortune. For it steereth by im- 
 moveable pole-stars, the inviolable rules of duty ; it aimeth at 
 marks which no force can stir out of their place; its objects of 
 mind and affection are not transitory ; its hopes and confidences 
 are fixed on the 'rock of ages.' Whence an upright person in 
 all cases and all conditions, (prosperous or adverse,) is the same 
 man, and goeth the same way. Contingences of afi'airs do not 
 unhinge his mind from its good purposes, or divert his foot from 
 the right course. Let the weather be fair or foul, let the world 
 smile or frown, let him get or lose by it, let him be favored or 
 crossed, commended or reproached, (' by honor and dishonor, 
 by evil report and good report,') he will do what his duty 
 requirelh ; the external state of things must not alter the moral 
 reason of things with him. This is that which the psalmist 
 observeth of him ; ' he shall not be afraid of evil tidings, for his 
 heart standeth fast and believeth in the Lord.' His heart ' is 
 stablished, and will not shrink.' And this the wise man pro- 
 miseth to him : ' commit thy works unto the Lord, and thy 
 thoughts shall be established.' 
 
 Hence a man is secured from diffidence in himself, and dis- 
 traction in his mind, from frequently being oH' the hooks, frouj 
 leading an unequal life, clashing with itself, from deluding 
 and disappointing those with whom he converseth or dealeth, 
 and consequently from the inconveniences issuing thence. 
 
 IV. The way of uprightness is the surest for dispatch, and 
 the shortest cut toward the execution or attainment of any good 
 purpose ; securing a man from irksome expectations and tedious 
 delays, the which, as the wise man saith, ' do make the heart 
 sick.'
 
 112 BARROW. — SERMON V, 
 
 It in Scripture is called ' the straight and the plain way.' And 
 as in geometry, of all lines or surfaces contained within the 
 same bounds, the straight line and the plain surface are 
 the shortest ; so it is also in morality : by the right line of 
 justice, on the plain ground of virtue, a man soonest will arrive 
 to any well-chosen end. 
 
 In this way there are no bewildering intrigues and mazes, no 
 crooked windings and turnings, no occasions forcing men to 
 dance hither and thither, to skip backward and forward, to do 
 and undo ; which courses do protract business, and commonly 
 do hinder from ever dispatching it. But a man acting justly 
 and fairly doth continually proceed on in the direct open road, 
 without retreat, excursion, or deflexion ; ' not turning aside 
 (as the phrase is in holy writ) to the right hand or to the 
 left.' 
 
 To clamber over fences of duty, to break through hedges of 
 right, to trespass on hallowed inclosures, may seem the most 
 short and compendious ways of getting thither where one would 
 be ; but doth not a man venture breaking his neck, or scratch- 
 ing his face, incurring mischief and trouble thereby? Is he 
 not liable to the fate to which the preacher doometh him, ' he 
 that diggeth a pit shall fall into it : and whoso breaketh a 
 hedge, a serpent shall bite him?' For instance, to grow 
 rich, fraud, extortion, corruption, oppression, overreaching 
 and supplanting may seem the readiest and most expedite 
 ways ; but in truth they are the farthest ways about, or rather 
 no ways at all : for that which is got by those means is not 
 our own ; nor is the possession of it truly wealth, but usurpa- 
 tion, or detention of spoil and rapine, which we ought to dis- 
 gorge. And however to the getting it there are oiten mighty 
 diflficulties occurring from men, there are commonly insupera- 
 ble obstacles interposed by God ; who hath expressly con- 
 demned and cursed those ways, declaring that ' wealth gotten 
 by vanity (or cozenage) shall be diminished ;' that ' he that 
 oppresseth to increase his riches shall surely come to want ;' 
 that ' he who (thus) hasteth to be rich, hath an evil eye, and 
 considereth not that poverty shall come on him ;' that ' as the 
 partridge sitteth on eggs, and hatcheth them not ; so he that 
 getteth riches and not by right, shall leave them in the niHlst
 
 UPRIGHT WALKING SURE WALKING. 113 
 
 of his days, and at his end shall be a fool.' Whereas the plain 
 way of honest harmless industry, (joined with a pious regard to 
 him who is the dispenser of all good things,) how slow soever 
 it may seem, is the most speedy, because the only safe way to 
 thrive ; having, beside all secondary advantages, the security 
 of those oracles: ' the hand of the diligent shall make rich;' 
 ' he that gathereth by labor shall increase :' ' by humility and 
 the fear of the Lord are riches, and honor, and life.' 
 
 V. The way of uprightness is in itself very safe, free of dan- 
 ger, tending to no mischief ; according to those sayings of the 
 wise man : ' there shall no evil happen to the just:' ' in the 
 way of righteousness is life, and in the path thereof there is no 
 death.' 
 
 He who designeth only that which is just and reasonable, 
 who innocently and fairly prosecuteth his intent, can run no 
 great hazard, cannot fall into any extreme disaster, cannot irre- 
 coverably sink into miserable disappointment. 
 
 He probably will not receive much harm from men, or trou- 
 ble from the world : for as he meaneth innocently, as he dealeth 
 inoft'ensively, (not violently assailing, nor fraudulently circum- 
 venting, not any wise injuriously or maliciously abusing any 
 man,) as he doth yield no just provocation or urgent temptation 
 to oppose him ; so he is not very likely to meet with obstruc- 
 tions or crosses thwarting his designs. He can hardly raise up 
 adversaries; at least such as will prove very formidable or very 
 fierce and implacable toward him. 
 
 He may be sure that few v/ise men, and no good men, will 
 trouble him ; but that such rather will attbrd their countenance 
 and furtherance to his undertakings. 
 
 But assuredly he shall have the favorable protection of Al- 
 mighty God, who throughly knowing his heart, and observing- 
 the righteousness of his intentions and proceedings, will not 
 suffer him to incur any notable, destructive, remediless cala- 
 mity. His prayer, dictated by good conscience, ' let integrity 
 and uprightness preserve me,' will certainly be heard ; God 
 having passed his word for it in numberless places of Scrip- 
 ture ; particularly in those remarkable worls of Isaiah : ' he 
 that walketh righteously, and speaketh uprightly; he that 
 despiseth the gain of oppressions, that shaketh his hands from
 
 114 BARROW. — SERMON V. 
 
 holding of bribes, that stoppeth his ears from hearing of blood, 
 and shutteth his eyes from seeing evil ; he shall dwell on high: 
 his place of defence shall be the munitions of rocks : his bread 
 shall be given him, his water shall be sure.' That is, a man 
 who is constantlj^ upright in his dealings, shall by the divine 
 Providence be infallibly and impregnably preserved from any 
 grievous mischief, from any sore want, from any extreme 
 distress. 
 
 The way of uprightness is ever guarded with angels, ready 
 to promote the affairs of the honest person, or at least to pro- 
 tect him from evil. He may hopefully say to himself, as 
 Abraham did to his servant, 'The Lord, before whom I walk, 
 will send his angel with thee, and prosper thy way.' Or 
 he confidently may apply to himself that of the psalm- 
 ist, ' He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in 
 all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest 
 thou dash thy foot against a stone.' 
 
 However, the sequel will be tolerable : whatever the suc- 
 cess of his undertaking be, it can be no ruin, no slur, no heart- 
 breaking to him. His conscience is safe, his credit is intire, 
 his hopes are good ; he is perfectly secure from being tainted 
 with foul guilt, from being exposed to due reproach, from 
 being stung with vexatious remorse, from being plunged into a 
 gulf of desperation or disconsolateness. For, 
 
 VI. The way of uprightness is fair and pleasant. He that 
 walketh in it hath good weather and a clear sky about him ; 
 a hopeful confidence and a cheerful satisfaction do ever wait on 
 him. ' It is joy,' as the wise man saith, ' to the just to do 
 judgment.' 
 
 Being conscious to himself of an honest meaning, and a due 
 course of prosecuting it, he feeleth no check or struggling of 
 mind, no regret or sting of heart ; being throughly satisfied and 
 pleased with what he is about, his judgment approving, and 
 his will acquiescing in his procedure, as worthy of himself, 
 agreeable to reason, and conformable to his duty. 
 
 He therefore briskly moveth forward with alacrity and cou- 
 rage ; there being within him nothing to control or counter- 
 mand him, to pull him back, to make him halt, to distract or 
 disturb him.
 
 UPRIGHT WALKING SURE WALKING. 115 
 
 Nor hardly can any thing abroad dismay or discourage hira. 
 For he may reasonably hope for the good will of men, and 
 cannot hugely dread their opposition. He may strongly pre- 
 sume on the propitious aspect and favorable succor of heaven, 
 which always smileth and casteth benign influences on honest 
 undertakings. 
 
 He that hath chosen a good way, may with assurance com- 
 mend his way to God's providence ; he may depend on God 
 for his concurrent benediction ; he with an humble boldness 
 may addi'ess prayers to God for his protection and aid. He so 
 doing hath interest in divers clear declarations and express pro- 
 mises of good success ; such as those ; ' Commit thy way unto 
 the Lord, trust also in him, and he shall bring it to pass.' 
 ' The Lord is nigh unto all that call on him in truth : he will 
 fulfil the desire of them that fear him ; he will hear their cry, 
 and will save them. 
 
 He may dare to refer his case to the severest examination, 
 saying with Job, ' Let me be weighed in an even balance, that 
 God may know mine integrity ;' and with the psalmist, ' Judge 
 me, O Lord, according to my righteousness, and according to 
 mine integrity that is in me.' 
 
 He with an humble confidence can appeal to God, borrow- 
 ing the words of H ezekiah, ' I beseech thee, O Lord, remem- 
 ber how I have walked before thee in truth and with a perfect 
 heart, and have done that which is good in thy sight.' 
 
 Hence, ' the hope of the righteous,' as the wise man telleth 
 us, ' is gladness.' He, considering the goodness, the justice, 
 the fidelity of God, whereof his integrity doth render him 
 capable and a proper object, cannot but conceive a comfortable 
 hope of a good issue. 
 
 And obtaining success, he doth not only enjoy the material 
 pleasure thereof, but the formal satisfaction that it is indeed 
 good success, or a blessing indulged to him by special favor of 
 God ; enabling him to say with the psalmist, * The Lord re- 
 warded me according to my righteousness ; according to the 
 cleanness of my hands hath he recompensed me. For I have 
 kept the ways of the Lord, and have not wickedly departed 
 from my God.' 
 
 However, an upright dealer hath this comfortable reserve.
 
 116 BARROW.- -Sr...MON V. 
 
 that whatever doth befal him, however the business goeth, he 
 shall not condemn and punish himself with remorse ; he shall 
 not want a consolation able to support and to erect his mind. 
 He shall triumph, if not in the felicity of his success, yet in the 
 integrity of his heart, and the innocence of his deportment ; 
 even as blessed Job did under all the pressures of his adversity : 
 for, 'till I die,' said he, ' I will not remove my integrity 
 from me. My righteousness I holdfast, and will not let it go : 
 my heart shall not reproach me so long as I live.' 
 
 So true it is on all accounts, that, according to that assertion 
 in the psalm, ' Light is sown for the righteous, and joyful 
 gladness for the upright in heart.' 
 
 VII. He that walketh uprightly is secure as to his honor 
 and credit. He is sure not to come off disgracefully, either at 
 home in his own apprehensions, or abroad in the estimations of 
 men. He doth not blush at what he is doing, nor doth reproach 
 himself for what he hath done. No blemish or blame can 
 stick on his proceeding. 
 
 By pure integrity a man first maintaineth a due respect and 
 esteem for himself, then preserveth an intire reputation witfi 
 others : he reflecteth on his own heart with complacence, and 
 looketh on the world with confidence. He hath no fear of 
 being detected, or care to smother his intents. He is content 
 that his thoughts should be sounded, and his actions sifted to 
 the bottom. He could even wish that his breast had windows, 
 that his heart were transparent, that all the world might see 
 through him, and descry the clearness of his intentions. The 
 more curiously his ways are marked, the more exactly his 
 dealings are scanned, the more throughly his designs are pe- 
 netrated and known ; the greater approbation he is sure to 
 receive. 
 
 The issue of things assuredly will be creditable to him ; and 
 when the day-light hath scattered all mists, hath cleared all 
 misprisions and mistakes, his reputation will shine most 
 brightly : the event declaring, that he had no corrupt ends ; 
 the course of his proceedings being justified by the very light 
 of things. 
 
 God himself will be concerned to vindicate his reputation, 
 not suffering him to be considerably defamed ; according to
 
 UPRIGHT WALKING SURE WALKING. 117 
 
 that promise, ' He shall bring forth thy righteousness as the 
 light, and thy judgment as the noon-day.' That iu Job will 
 be made good to him, * Then shalt thou lift up thy face with- 
 out spot;' and he may confidently aver with the psalmist, 
 ' Then shall I not be ashamed, when I have respect to all thy 
 commandments.' 
 
 If he findeth good success, it will not be invidious, appear- 
 ing well deserved, and fairly procured ; it will be truly hono- 
 rable, as a fruit and recompense of virtue, as a mark and 
 pledge of the divine favor toward him. 
 
 If he seemeth disappointed, yet he will not be disparaged : 
 wise and candid men will excuse him ; good men will patro- 
 nise his cause ; no man of sense and ingenuity will insult on 
 his misfortune. ' He shall not,' as the psalmist assureth, 
 ' be ashamed in an evil time.' Yea, often his repute from under 
 a cloud will shine, if not with so glaring splendor, yet with a 
 pleasant lustre ; uprightness disposing him to bear adverse 
 events with a graceful decency. 
 
 VIII. The particular methods of acting which uprightness 
 disposeth to observe, do yield great security from troubles and 
 crosses in their transactions. 
 
 What is the conduct of the upright man ? He is clear, frank, 
 candid, harmless, consistent in all his behavior, his discourse, 
 his dealing. His heart commonly may be seen in his face, his 
 mind doth ever suit with his speech, his deeds have a just cor- 
 respondence with his professions ; he never faileth to perform 
 what he doth promise, and to satisfy the expectations which 
 he hath raised. 
 
 He doth not wrap himself in clouds, that none may see 
 where he is, or know how to find him ; may discern what he is 
 about, or whither he tendeth. 
 
 He disguiseth not his intents with fallacious pretences 
 of conscience, of public good, of special friendship and 
 respect. 
 
 He doth use no disingenuous, spiteful, unjust tricks or 
 sleights, to serve the present turn. 
 
 He layeth no baits or snares ' to catch men,' alluring them 
 into mischief or inconvenience.
 
 118 BARROW. — SERMON V. 
 
 As he doth not affect any poor base ends, so he will not 
 defile his fair intentions by sordid means of compassing them ; 
 such as are illusive simulations and subdolous artifices, 
 treacherous collusions, sly insinuations and sycophantic de- 
 tractions, versatile whifflings and dodgings, flattering collo- 
 guings and glozings, servile crouchings and fawnings, and the 
 i'ike. 
 
 He hath little of the serpent, (none of its lurking insidious- 
 ness, of its surprising violence, of its rancorous venom, of its 
 keen mordacity,) but much of the dove, (all its simplicity, its 
 gentleness, its fidelity, its innocence,) in his conversation and 
 commerce. 
 
 His wisdom is ever tempered with sincerity, and seasoned 
 with humanity, with meekness, with charity; being ' the wis- 
 dom which is from above, first pure, then peaceable, gentle, 
 easy to be entreated, full of good fruits, without partiality, 
 and without hypocrisy.' 
 
 He sometime may prudently reserve his mind, not venting it 
 by foolish loquacity : but his words do never clash with his 
 meaning, so as to deceive or dissappoint any man. 
 
 He may warily prevent harm and decline perils : but it 
 is without hurtful countermining, or deriving mischief on his 
 neighbor. 
 
 He may discreetly pick out seasons, and embrace opportu- 
 nities of righting or benefiting himself: but he never will seek 
 or lay hold of advantages to prejudice others. 
 
 He sometimes may repress insurrections of anger or dis- 
 gust : but he never doth allow them to bake into rancor or 
 malice. 
 
 He may be apt to use courteous, affable, obliging demea- 
 nor, serving lo breed friendships, and to stifle enmities : but 
 he never thereby meaneth to gull, inveigle, and entrap men ; or 
 to procure instruments and aids of any perverse design. 
 
 He is no enemy to himself, but (according to the obligations 
 of reason and conscience) he hath always a regard to the good 
 of others ; nor is ever so selfish as to be unjust or uncharitable 
 to any man. 
 
 The principal engines he doth employ for achieving his en-
 
 UPRIGHT WALKING SURE WALKING. 119 
 
 terprises are, a careful and cautious providence in contriving, a 
 sedulous and steady diligence in acting, a circumspect heedful- 
 ness not to provoke any man by offensive carriage, by injury, 
 by discourtesy, to obstruct him, but rather by kind demonstra- 
 tions and real beneficence to engage men to further him in his 
 proceedings : but especially his main instrument, vs'herein he 
 most confideth, is devout supplication to God for his succor and 
 blessing. 
 
 Now is not this conduct the most secure that can be ? doth 
 it not afford many great commodities and advantages ? doth it 
 not exempt from manifold fears, and cares, and crosses, and 
 slaveries ? 
 
 It cannot but derive blessings from the God of truth, the 
 great friend of simplicity and sincerity, the hater of falsehood 
 and guile. 
 
 And humanly regarding things, he that useth these methods, 
 doth from them obtain many conveniences. He doth not lie 
 under perpetual constraint, engaged to keep a constant guard 
 on himself, to vt^atch his memory, to curb his tongue, to manage 
 his very looks and gestures, lest they betray his intentions, and 
 disclose his plots. He is not at the trouble of stopping holes, 
 of mending flaws, of patching up repugnances in his actions, 
 that his mind do not break through them. He is not afraid of 
 the disappointment and shame which attend the detection of 
 unworthy designs. He is not atpainsto obviate thejealousies, 
 the surmises, the diflSdences, the counterplots, the preventive 
 oppositions and assaults which gloomy closeness and crafty 
 dissimulation ever do raise against the practisers of them. In 
 fine, men do not shun the conversation and the commerce of 
 an upright person, but gladly do consort and deal with them ; 
 do seek his acquaintance and alliance : they are not apt to 
 distrust him, to suspect him, to be shy and reserved in their 
 intercourse with him ; but readily do place an intire confi- 
 dence in him, and use a clear frankness toward him. No man 
 doth fear him as dangerous, or will cross him as an adversary. 
 Whence as he seldom hath cause to fear, or occasion to con- 
 test with others ; so he doth undisturbedly enjoy the benefits 
 of society with great safety, ease, and comfort. 
 
 IX. Lastly, an upright walker hath perfect security, as to
 
 120 BARROW. — SERMON V. 
 
 the final result of affairs, that he shall not be quite baffled in 
 his expectations and desires. And if prosperity doth consist in 
 a satisfaction of mind concerning- events, he cannot fail of 
 most prosperous success. ' Whatsoever he doeth,' saith the 
 psalmist of him, ' it shall prosper.' How is that? Doth 
 he, if he warreth, alveays get the victory ? is he perpe- 
 tually, when he tradeth, a considerable gainer? will he cer- 
 tainly, after sowing, reap a plentiful crop ? Probably yes ; 
 and perhaps no. Yet assuredly he shall prosper, in the true 
 notion of prosperity, explained by those divine sayings : ' Mark 
 the perfect man, and behold the upright; for the end of that 
 man is peace.' ' The work of righteousness shall be peace, 
 and the effect of righteousness quietness and assurance for 
 ever.' ' Surely I know it shall be well with them that fear 
 God.' 
 
 He cannot be much defeated in his purposes : for as to his 
 general, principal, absolute designs, (that is, his design of 
 pleasing God, and procuring his favor ; his design of satisfying 
 himself, and discharging his conscience ; his design of promo- 
 ting his own spiritual interest and saving his soul ; his design 
 of doing good, of exercising charity to his neighbor, of serving 
 the public, of obliging the world by virtuous example, and by 
 real beneficence ;) these he cannot fail throughly to accom- 
 plish ; nothing can obstruct him in the prosecution, nothing 
 can debar him from the execution of these undertakings ; in 
 spite of all the world, by the succor of that divine grace which 
 ever doth favor and further such designs, he most happily will 
 achieve them. And for other inferior designs, he can hardly 
 be crossed in regard to them ; for it is an essential part of 
 integrity, not otherwise to affect or aim at private secular 
 interests, than under condition, and with a reservation, if it be 
 God's pleasure, if it seem good to divine wisdom. He know- 
 eth that his pains employed on any honest purpose, in a fair 
 way, (be it to procure some worldly advantage for himself, for 
 his relations, or for his friend,) are not lost, if they have the 
 fruit of submission to God's will, and acquiescence in the event 
 disposed by him. He is assured that it is good luck to have 
 his project blasted, and that missing is better than getting, 
 when by sovereign wisdom it is so determined. He therefore
 
 UPRIGHT WALKING SURE WALKING. 121 
 
 could not SO fix his heart, or engage his affection in any such 
 concern, that his mind is surprised, or his passions discomposed 
 by a seeming adverseness of events to his endeavors. So that 
 in effect he can have no bad success. For how can that occur- 
 rence be deemed bad, which plain reason dictateth in certain 
 judgment to be most expedient for him ; about which he ever 
 was very indifferent, and with which at present he is not 
 heartily displeased? How can it be taken for disappointment 
 and misfortune, which one was prepared to embrace with satis- 
 faction and complacence ? 
 
 Yea, to a person so disposed, that success which seemeth 
 most adverse, justly may be reputed the best and most happy, 
 as promoting ends incomparably more excellent than any 
 worldly gain ; as producing fruits exceedingly more wholesome 
 and more savory than any temporal commodity ; as exercis- 
 ing and improving the divinest virtues, (humility, patience, 
 meekness, moderation, contentedness,) a grain whereof is worth 
 all the wealth, all the preferment, all that is desirable in the 
 world. 
 
 Wherefore let the worst that can arrive, (or that which hu- 
 man blindness and fondness do count the worst,) yet upright 
 persons do not come off ill, or so (matters being rightly stated") 
 9.8 to be losers on the foot of the account. 
 
 If this do not satisfy grosser apprehensions, we may add, 
 that even in these meaner concerns Almighty God is pleased 
 commonly to reward and encourage upright persons by the best 
 success. For he hath as it were a natural inclination to gratify 
 those who desire to please him ; and, as the Psalmist express - 
 eth it, * hath pleasure in the prosperity of his servants.' He 
 may seem concerned in honor to countenance those who have 
 regard to his will, and who repose confidence in his aid ; dis- 
 criminating them from such as presume to act against or with- 
 out him, in defiance to his will, with no deference to his provi- 
 dence. As they do render him his due respect, by submitting 
 to his authority, and avowing his power ; so he will acknow- 
 lege them by signally favoring their concerns. Even his truth 
 and fidelity are engaged in their behalf; seeing he very often 
 hath declared and promised, that in all matters, and on all 
 occasions, he will be ready to bless them. 
 
 BAR. VOL. I. F
 
 122 BARROW.— SERMON V. 
 
 X. To conclude; it is an infinite advantage of upright deal- 
 ing, that at the last issue, when all things shall be most accu- 
 rately tried and impartially decided, a man is assured to be 
 full y justified in it, and plentifully rewarded for it. As then 
 all the deceits, which now pass under specious masks, shall be 
 laid bare ; all varnish of pretence shall be wiped off; all per- 
 verse intrigues shall be unravelled ; all wicked and base inten- 
 tions shall be quite stripped of the veils which now enfold 
 them ; all shrewd contrivers and engineers of mischief, all prac- 
 tisers of unjust and malicious guile, shall be exposed to shame, 
 ' shall lie down in sorrow :' so then ' the righteous man shall 
 stand in great boldness;' his case will be rightly stated, and 
 fully cleared from slanderous aspersions, from odious surmises, 
 from unlucky prejudices and mistakes : what he hath done 
 shall be approved ; what he hath suffered shall be repaired. 
 So that it then evidently will appear that upright simplicity is 
 the deepest wisdom, and perverse craft the meerest shallow- 
 ness ; that he who is true and just to others, is most faithful 
 and friendly to himself; that whoever doth abuse his neighbor, 
 is his own greatest cheater and foe. For, ' in the day when 
 God shall judge the secrets of men by Jesus Christ, every man's 
 work shall be made manifest.' ' The Lord will bring to light 
 the hidden things of darkness, and will make manifest the coun- 
 sels of the hearts : and then shall every man have praise of 
 God,' Unto which our upright Judge, ' the King eternal, ira-- 
 mortal, invisible, the only wise God, be honor and glory for 
 ever and ever.' Amen.
 
 SERMON VI. 123 
 
 SUMMARY OF SERMON VI. 
 
 I THESSALONIANS, CHAP. V. — VERSE 17. 
 
 Manner in which St. Paul, after discussing main points of 
 doctrine or discipline, frequently proposes good advice and 
 rules of conduct, without any formal method or strict connexion. 
 Example of that in the text. For the understanding of it, we 
 must consider what is meant by the act enjoined, or prayifig, 
 and what is the import of the qualification or circumstance ad- 
 joined, without ceasing. 
 
 1. The word prayer does, in its usual latitude of accepta- 
 tion, comprehend all sorts of devotion, or all that part of reli- 
 gious practice wherein we do immediately address ourselves to 
 God, holding by speech, oral or mental, a kind of intercourse 
 and conversation with him : this point enlarged on. In a 
 stricter sense it signifies only one particular act, the petition 
 of things needful or useful to us. It is in this discourse under- 
 stood in the first and comprehensive meaning : reasons for this 
 given. 
 
 2. Meaning of the expression without ceasing. It is not to 
 be understood as if we were obliged, in every instant or singular 
 point of time, actually to apply our minds to prayer ; for this 
 is impossible, and therefore can be no matter of duty ; is in- 
 consistent with other duties, and therefore must not be prac- 
 tised, &c. ; but the precept, like many others of a like general 
 purport and expression, must be understood in a moral rather 
 than a natural sense, according as the exigence of things per- 
 mits, or the reason of the case requires. Various senses of
 
 124 SUMMARY OF 
 
 which it is capable, propounded on plain testimonies of Scrip- 
 ture, and agreeable to sound reason. 
 
 I. Praying incessantly may import the maintaining in our 
 souls a ready disposition or habitual inclination to devotion ; 
 that which in Scripture is termed the spirit of supplication. 
 This shown, according to moral estimation, and current lan- 
 guage derived thence, to amount to a continual practice. 
 
 II. It may denote a vigilant attendance, with earnest regard 
 and firm purpose, employed on devotion ; such attendance as 
 men usually bestow on their affairs, of which the actual prose- 
 cution sometimes stops, though the design continually pro- 
 ceeds ; the mind ever so directing its eye towards them, as 
 quickly to espy, and readily to snatch any advantages of pro- 
 moting them : this point enlarged on. 
 
 III. It may signify that we do actually embrace all fit sea- 
 sons and occasions of devotion : this in moral computation passes 
 for continual performance, as a tree is said to bear that fruit 
 which it produces in the season, and a man is accounted to work 
 ill that trade which he exercises whenever he is called thereto. 
 Many special occasions enumerated, in which this duty is indis- 
 pensably required of us, both those which, as it were, outwardly 
 prompt and urge us, and those which spring up within us, 
 which we are no less obliged and concerned to embrace. 
 
 IV. Praying incessantly may signify that we should with 
 assiduous urgency drive on the intent of our prayers, never 
 quitting it, nor desisting, till our requests are granted, or our 
 desires accomplished : thus doing we may be said to pray con- 
 tinually ; as he that goeth forward in his journey, although he 
 may sometimes rest and repose himself, is said yet to be in tra- 
 vel. Instances given in which this practice is recommended 
 by holy Scripture. Shown also to be agreeable to and en- 
 forced by reason. Many assurances of good success to this 
 practice in holy Scripture. It is shown that without it we 
 cannot hope to obtain the precious things of God's bounty ;
 
 SERMON VI. 125 
 
 and that for the same reason that we pray at all, we should 
 thus pray with continued instance. 
 
 V. Praying incessantly may import that we do with all 
 our occupations and all occurrences interlace devout ejacula- 
 tions of prayer and praise ; lifting up our hearts to God, and 
 breathing forth expressions of devotion, suitable to the objects 
 and occasions which present themselves. This seems to be re- 
 quired by St. Paul, when he enjoins us to pray always in spirit, 
 and to sing in the heart ; that is, with very frequent elevations 
 of spirit in holy thoughts and desires toward heaven, since we 
 cannot ever be framing, or venting long prayers with our lips : 
 this point enlarged on. 
 
 Other good meanings of this precept, according to which 
 both Scripture and reason oblige us to observe it, are reserved 
 for the next discourse.
 
 1'26 BARROW. — SERMON VI. 
 
 SERMON VI. 
 OF THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 
 
 I THESSALONIANS, CHAP. V. — VERSE 17. 
 
 Pray without ceasing. 
 
 It is the manner of St. Paul in his epistles, after that ht- 
 hath discussed some main points of doctrine or discipline, 
 (which occasion required that he should clear and settle,) to 
 propose several good advices and rules, in the observance 
 whereof the life of Christian practice doth consist. So that he 
 thereby hath furnished us with so rich a variety of moral and 
 spiritual precepts, concerning special matters, subordinate to 
 the general laws of piety and virtue ; that out of them might 
 well be compiled a body of ethics, or system of precepts de 
 officiis, in truth and in completeness far excelling those which 
 any philosophy hath been able to devise or deliver. These 
 he rangeth not in any formal method, nor linketh together 
 with strict connexion, but freely scattereth them, so as from 
 his mind (as out of a fertile soil, impregnated with all seeds of 
 wisdom and goodness) they did aptly spring up, or as they 
 were suggested by that holy Spirit which continually guided 
 and governed him. 
 
 Among divers such delivered here, this is one, which shall 
 be the subject of my present discourse; the which, having no 
 other plain coherence (except by affinity of matter) with the 
 rest inclosing it, I shall consider absolutely by itself, endea- 
 voring somewhat to explain it, and to urge its practice. 
 
 I
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 127 
 
 ' Pray without ceasing.' For understanding these words, 
 let us first consider what is meant by the act enjoined, 
 'praying;' then, what the qualification or circumstance ad- 
 joined, ' without ceasing,' doth import. 
 
 1. The word ' prayer' doth, in its usual latitude of accep- 
 tion, comprehend all sorts of devotion, or all that part of reli- 
 gious practice, wherein we do immediately address ourselves to 
 God, having by speech (oral or mental) a kind of intercourse 
 and conversation with him. So it includeth that praise which 
 we should yield to God, implying our due esteem of his most 
 excellent perfections, most glorious works, most just and wise 
 dispensations of providence and grace ; that thanksgivinjc 
 whereby we should express an affectionate resentment of our 
 obligation to him for the numberless great benefits we receive 
 from him ; that acknowlegeraent of our intire dependence on 
 him, or our total subjection to his power and pleasure ; toge- 
 ther with that profession of faith in him, and avowing of service 
 to him, which we do owe as his natural creatures and subjects; 
 that humble confession of our infirmity, our vileness, our guilt, 
 our misery, (joined with deprecation of wrath and vengeance,) 
 which is due from us as wretched men and grievous sinners ; 
 that petition of things needful or convenient for us, (of supply 
 in our wants, of succor and comfort in our distresses, of direc- 
 tion and assistance in our undertakings, of mercy and pardon 
 for our offences,) which our natural state (our poor, weak, sad, 
 and sinful state) doth engage us to seek ; that intercession for 
 others, which general charity or special relation do require 
 from us, as concerned or obliged to desire and promote their 
 good. All these religious performances prayer, in its larger 
 notion, doth comprise ; according whereto in common use the 
 whole body of divine service, containing all such acts, is termed 
 prayer; and temples, consecrated to the performance of all 
 holy duties, are styled 'houses of prayer;' and that brief 
 directory, or pregnant form of all devotion, which our Lord 
 dictated, is called 'his prayer;' and in numberless places of 
 Scripture it is so taken. 
 
 In a stricter sense, it doth only signify one particular act 
 among those, tlie petition of things needful or useful for us. 
 But according to the former more comprehensive meaning, 1
 
 V28 BARROW. — SERMON VI. 
 
 choose to understand it here ; both because it is most com- 
 monly so used, (then, especially, when no distinctive limitation 
 is annexed, or the nature of the subject matter doth not restrain 
 it,) and because general reasons do equally oblige to perform- 
 ance of all these duties in the manner here prescribed : nor is 
 there any ground to exclude any part of devotion from conti- 
 nual use ; we being obliged no less incessantly to praise God 
 for his excellencies, and thank him for his benefits, to avow his 
 sovereign majesty and authority, to confess our infirmities and 
 miscarriages, than to beg help and mercy from God. All 
 devotion therefore, all sorts of proper and due address to God, 
 (that TTciaa -nponevyi], ' all prayer and supplication,' which St. 
 Paul otherwhere speaketh of) are here enjoined, according to 
 the manner adjoined, 'without ceasing,' dSmXe/Trrws, that is, 
 indefinitely, or continually. 
 
 2. For the meaning of which expression, we must suppose 
 that it must not be understood as if we were obliged in every 
 instant or singular point of time actually to apply our minds to 
 this practice; for to do thus is in itself impossible, and therefore 
 can be no matter of duty ; it is inconsistent with other duties, and 
 therefore must not be practised ; yea, will not consist with itself; 
 for, that we may pray, we must live ; that we may live, we 
 must eat; that we may eat, we must work; and must there- 
 fore attend other matters : so that actual devotion neither must 
 nor can swallow up all our time and care. The deliberate 
 operations of our mind are sometimes interrupted by sleep, 
 sometimes will be taken up in satisfying our natural appetites, 
 sometimes must be spent in attendance on other reasonable 
 employments, commanded or allowed by God ; whence there 
 can be no obligation to this practice according to that unlimited 
 interpretation. This precept therefore (as divers others of a 
 like general purport and expression) must be understood not in 
 a natural but moral sense, according as the exigence of things 
 perniitteth, or as the reason of the case requireth ; so far as it 
 is conveniently practicable, or as it is reasonably compatible 
 with other duties and needs. But we must not so restrain it as 
 to wrong it, by pinching it within too narrow bounds. How 
 then it may be understood, and how far it should extend, we 
 shall endeavor to declare by propounding divers senses whereof
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 129 
 
 it is capable, grounded on plain testimonies of Scripture, and 
 enforcible by good reason ; according to which senses we shall 
 together press the observance thereof. 
 
 I. First then, ' praying incessantly' may import the main- 
 taining in our souls a ready disposition or habitual inclination 
 to devotion ; that which in Scripture is termed ' the spirit of 
 supplication.' This in moral esteem, and according to current 
 language, derived thence, amounteth to a continual practice ; a 
 man being reckoned and said to do that, to which he is ever 
 prompt and propense : as it is said of the righteous man, that 
 • he is ever merciful, and lendeth,' because he is constantly 
 disposed to supply his neighbor with needful relief; although 
 he doth not ever actually dispense alms, or furnish his neighbor 
 with supplies for his necessity. The words may signify this ; 
 they do at least by consequence imply so much : for if we do 
 not in this, we can hardly perfoi'm the duty in any sense ; 
 without a good temper fitting, and a good appetite prompting 
 to devotion, we scarce can or will ever apply ourselves thereto. 
 If there be not in our heart a root of devotion, whence should 
 it spring ? how can it live or thrive ? If the organs of prayer 
 are out of kelter, or out of tune, how can we pray? If we be 
 not accincti, have not ' the loins of our mind girt,' and ' our 
 feet shod in preparation' to the service, when shall we set for- 
 ward thereto ? ' My heart,' said David, ' is fixed, I will sing 
 and give praise ;' fixed, that is, readily prepared, and steadily 
 inclined to devotion. So should ours constantly be. As a 
 true friend is ever ready to entertain his friend with a frank 
 courtesy and complacency ; as he ever is apt on occasion for 
 advice and assistance to have recourse to him : so should we be 
 always disposed cheerfully and decently to converse with God, 
 when he freely cometh to us, or we have need to apply ourselves 
 to him. If there be (from stupidity of mind, from coldness of 
 affection, from sluggishness of spirit, from worldly distraction) 
 any indisposition or averseness thereto, we should, by serious 
 consideration and industrious care, labor to remove them ; 
 rousing our spirits, and kindling in our affections some fervency 
 of desire toward spiritual things : otherwise we shall be apt to 
 shun, or to slip the opportunities inviting to devotion; our
 
 130 BARROW. — SERMON VI. 
 
 hearts will be so resty, or listless, [that hardly we shall be 
 induced to perform it, when it is most necessary or useful 
 for us. 
 
 II. ' Praying incessantly' may denote a vigilant attendance 
 (with earnest regard, and firm purpose) employed on devo- 
 tion : such attendance as men usually bestow on their affairs, 
 whereof although the actual prosecution sometime doth stick, 
 yet the design continually proceedeth ; the mind ever so di- 
 recting its eye toward them, as quickly to espy, and readily to 
 snatch any advantages of promoting them. This is a kind of 
 continuance in practice, and is commonly so termed : as we 
 say, that such an one is building a house, is writing a book, is 
 occupying such land, although he be at present sleeping, or 
 eating, or following any other business ; because his main design 
 never sleepeth, and his purpose continues uninterrupted. This 
 is that which is so often injoined under the phrase of watching 
 about prayer. ' Watch ye therefore, and pray always,' saith 
 our Lord. ' Continue in prayer, and watch in the same,' saith 
 St. Paul. ' Be ye sober, and watch unto prayer,' saith St. 
 Peter. Which expressions import a most constant and careful 
 attendance on this duty : that we do not make it a irupepyov, 
 or bye-business in our life, (a matter of small consideration or 
 indifference, of curiosity, of chance,) to be transacted drowsily 
 or faintly, with a desultorious and slight endeavor, by fits, as 
 the humor taketh us ; but that, accounting it a business of the 
 •choicest nature and weightiest moment, we do adhere thereto 
 with unmoveable purpose, regard it with undistracted attention, 
 pursue it with unwearied diligence, being always on the guard, 
 wakeful and expedite, intent on and apt to close with any oc- 
 casion suggesting matter thereof. That we should do thus 
 reason also doth oblige : for that, as in truth no business doth 
 better deserve our utmost resolution and care ; so none doth 
 more need them ; nature being so backward, and occasion so 
 slippery, that if we do not ever mind it, we shall seldom 
 practise it. 
 
 III. ' Praying incessantly ' may signify that we do actually 
 embrace all fit seasons and emergent occasions of devotion. 
 Tliis in moral computation doth pass for continual perform-
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 131 
 
 ance : as a tree is said to bear that fruit wliich it [jroduceth 
 in the season ; and a man is accounted to work in that trade, 
 which he exerciseth whenever he is called thereto. This sense 
 is in several precepts parallel to that in hand plainly expressed. 
 ' Pray/ saith St. Paul, ' with all prayer and supplication,' ef 
 irairi katpw* and, ' watch,' saith our Lord, ey irai'Ti KatpS beufierot, 
 ' praying in every season,' or on every opportunity. Devo- 
 tion, indeed, is rarely unseasonable, or impertinent : we may 
 offer it evKaiftws, aKaipws, ' in season, and out of season ;' 
 that is, not only taking opportunities presented for it, or ur- 
 gently requiring it, but catching at them, and creating them to 
 ourselves, when there is no such apparent and pressing need of 
 it. But there are some special occasions, which more impor- 
 tunately and indispensably do exact it: some seasons there are , 
 (either ministered by extrinsical accidents, or springing from 
 internal dispositions,) when, without both great blame and 
 much damage to ourselves, we cannot neglect it : times there 
 be most proper and acceptable, when we do especially need to 
 pray, and when we are likely to speed well therein. ' Every 
 one,' saith the psalmist, ' that is godly will pray unto thee iti 
 a time when thou mayest be found :' and, ' my prayer,' saith 
 he again, ' is unto thee in an acceptable time.' 
 
 Thuswhen we have received any singular blessing or notable 
 favor from God, when prosperous success hath attended our 
 honest enterprises, when we have been happily rescued from 
 imminent dangers, when we have been supported in diflSculties. 
 or relieved in wants and straits ; then is it seasonable to render 
 sacrifices of thanksgiving and praise to the God of victory, 
 help, and mercy ; to admire and celebrate him who is our 
 ' strength,' and our ' deliverer,' our ' faithful refuge in trou- 
 ble,' our ' fortress, and the rock of our salvation.' To omit 
 this piece of devotion then is vile ingratitude, or stupid negli- 
 gence and sloth. 
 
 When any rare object or remarkable occurrence doth, on 
 this theatre of the world, present itself to our view, in surveying 
 the glorious works of nature, or the strange events of Provi- 
 dence ; then is a proper occasion suggested to send up hymns of 
 praise to the power, the wisdom, the goodness of the world's 
 great Creator and Governor.
 
 132 BARROW. — SERMOK VI. 
 
 When we undertake any business of special moment and dif- 
 ficulty, then it is expedient (wisdom prompting it) to sue for 
 (iod's aid, to commit our affairs into his hand, to recommend 
 our endeavors to the blessing of him by whose guidance all 
 things are ordered, without whose concourse nothing can be 
 effected, on whose arbitrary disposal all success dependeth. 
 
 The beginning of any design or business (although ordinary, 
 if considerable) is a proper season of prayer unto him to whose 
 bounty and favor we owe our ability to act, support in our pro- 
 ceedings, any comfortable issue of what we do : (for ' all our 
 sufficiency is of him :' ' without him we can do nothing.') 
 Whence we can never apply ourselves to any business or work, 
 not go to eat, to sleep, to travel, to trade, to study, with any 
 true content, any reasonable security, any satisfactory hope, if 
 we do not first humbly implore the favorable protection, guid- 
 ance, and assistance of God. 
 
 When we do fall into doubts or darknesses, (in the course 
 either of our spiritual or secular affairs,) not knowing what 
 course to steer, or which way to turn ourselves; (a case which to 
 so blind and silly creatures as we are must often happen ;) then 
 doth the time bid us to consult the great Oracle of truth, ' the 
 mighty Counsellor,' ' the Father of lights,' seeking resolution and 
 satisfaction, light and wisdom from him ; saying with thf 
 psalmist, ' Show me thy ways, O Lord, lead me in thy truth, 
 and teach me ; for thou art the God of my salvation.' ' Order 
 my steps in thy word, and let not any iniquity have dominion 
 over me ;' following the advice of St. James, ' If any man lack 
 Avisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and 
 upbraideth not ; and it shall be given him.' 
 
 When any storm of danger blustereth about us, perilously 
 threatening or furiously assailing us with mischief, (so thai 
 hardly by our own strength or wit we can hope to evade,) then 
 with the wings of ardent devotion we should fly unto God for 
 shelter and for relief. 
 
 When any anxious care distracteth, or any heavy burden 
 presseth our minds, we should by prayer ease ourselves of them, 
 and discharge them on God, committing the matter of them to 
 his care and providence ; according to that direction of St, 
 Paul, 'be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 133 
 
 and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made 
 known to God.' 
 
 When we do lie under any irksome trouble or sore distress, 
 (of want, pain, disgrace,) then for succor and support, for ease 
 and comfort, we should have recourse to ' the Father of pities, 
 and God of all consolation ; who is nigh to all that call on him, 
 will also hear their cry, and will save them ;' who, when ' the 
 righteous cry, doth hear them, and delivereth them out of all 
 their troubles;' who is so often styled ' the hiding-place from 
 troubles,' ' the help and strength,' ' the shield and buckler,' • the 
 rock,' ' the fortress,' 'the high tower,' ' the horn of salvation,' 
 to all good and distressed people. To him we should in such 
 a condition have recourse, imitating the pious psalmist, whose 
 practice was this: ' in the day of my trouble I sought the 
 Lord : I poured out my complaint before him, I showed be- 
 fore him my trouble :' ' I called unto the Lord in my distress ; 
 the Lord answered me, and set me in a large place.' 
 
 When any strong temptation doth invade us, with which by 
 our own strength we cannot grapple, but are like to sink and 
 faulter under it ; then is it opportune and needful that we 
 should seek to God for a supply of spiritual forces, and the 
 succor of his almighty grace, as St. Paul did : when ' there 
 was given to him a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to 
 buffet him ;' then ' he besought the Lord thrice that it might 
 depart from him :' and he had this return from God, ' My grace 
 is sufficient for thee.' 
 
 When also (from ignorance or mistake, from inadvertency, 
 negligence, or rashness, from weakness, from wantonness, from 
 presumption) we have transgressed our duty, and incurred 
 sinful guilt; then, (for avoiding the consequent danger and 
 vengeance, for unloading our consciences of the burden and 
 iliscomfort thereof,) with humble confession in our mouths, and 
 serious contrition in our hearts, we should apply ourselves to 
 the God of mercy, deprecating his wrath, and imploring par- 
 don from him ; remembering that promise of St. John, ' if we 
 confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, 
 and to cleanse us from all iniquity ;' and that declaration of 
 the wise man ' he that covereth his sins shall not prosper, but 
 he that confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy.'
 
 134 BARROW. — SERMON VI, 
 
 In these and the like cases God by our necessities doth invite 
 and summon us to come unto him ; and no less foolish than 
 impious we are, if we do then slink away or fly from him. 
 Then we should (as the Apostle to the Hebrews exhorteth) 
 ' come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain 
 mercy, and find grace to help in time of need,' (or, for sea- 
 sonable relief: eh evKaipov l3(n)d€iay.) 
 
 And beside those outwardly prompting and urging us, there 
 be other opportunities springing from within us, which we are 
 no less obliged and concerned to embrace. When God by his 
 gentle whispers calleth us, or by his soft impulses draweth us 
 into his presence ; we should then take heed of stopping our 
 ears, or turning our hearts from him, refusing to hearken or to 
 comply. We must not any wise quench or damp any sparks 
 of devout affection kindled in us by the divine Spirit ; we must 
 not repel or resist any of his kindly suggestions or motions. 
 
 Whenever we find ourselves well atfected to, or well framed 
 for devotion ; that we have a lively sense of, and a coming ap- 
 petite to spiritual things: that our spirits are brisk and pure, 
 our fancy calm and clear, our hearts tender and supple, our af- 
 fections warm and nimble ; then a fair season ofi'ereth itself; 
 and when the iron is so hot, we should strike. 
 
 If at any time we feel any forward inclinations or good dis- 
 positions to the practice of this duty, we should never check or 
 curb them, but rather should promote and advance them; push- 
 ing ourselves forward in this hopeful career ; letting out the 
 stream of our aff'ections into this right channel, that it may run 
 freely therein, that it may overflow and diffuse itself in exube- 
 rance of devotion. Farther, 
 
 IV. ' Praying incessantly' may signify that we should with 
 assiduous urgency drive on the intent of our prayers, never 
 quitting it or desisting till our requests are granted, or our de- 
 sires are accomplished. Thus doing we may be said to pray 
 continually : as he that goeth forward in his journey, (although 
 he sometime doth bait, sometime doth rest and repose himself,) 
 is said yet to be in travel ; or as he that doth not wave the 
 prosecution of his cause, (although some demurs intervene,) 
 is deemed still to be in suit. This is that which our Lord did 
 in the gospel prescribe and persuade, where it is recorded of
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER, 135 
 
 him, that ' he spake a parable unto them, that men ought al- 
 ways to pray, and not to faint.' That ' praying always' the 
 ensuing discourse showeth to import restless importunity, and 
 perseverance in prayer : the same which so often is commended 
 to us by the phrases of /jt) i^Kaice'iy, ' not to faint' or ' faulter ;' /u) 
 Traveffdai, ' not to cease,' or give over ; TrpoaKapTepeiv, ' to continue 
 instant,' or hold out stoutly; ayuri^eadai, ' to strive earnestly,' 
 or contest and struggle in prayers ; irpoaneveiv rals beliaeai, ' to 
 abide at supplications;' aypvitvclv kv iraarj irpoaKcipreptirrei, 'to 
 watch with all perseverance.' That which also is implied by 
 those terms, which in scriptural style do commonly express de- 
 votion : by ' seeking God ;' which implieth that God doth 
 not presently, on any slight address, discover himself in bene- 
 ficial effects answerable to our desires, but after a careful and 
 painful continuance in our applications to him : by ' waiting 
 on God ;' which signifieth that if God do not presently ap- 
 pear, granting our requests, we should patiently stay, expect- 
 ing till he be pleased to do it in his own best time, according; 
 to that in the Psalm, ' Our eyes wait on the Lord our God, un- 
 til he have mercy on us :' by ' knocking ;' which intimateth thai 
 the door of grace doth not ever stand open, or that we can have 
 an effectual access to God, until he, warned, and as it were 
 excited, by our earnest importunity, pleaseth to listen, to dis- 
 close himself, to come forth unto us. 
 
 And this practice reason also doth enforce. For there arc 
 some good things absolutely necessary for our spiritual life and 
 welfare, (such as are freedom from bad inclinations, disorderly 
 affections, vicious habits, and noxious errors; the sanctifying 
 presence and influence of God's holy Spirit, with the blessed 
 graces and sweet fruits thereof; growth in virtue, delight in 
 spiritual things, the sense of God's love and favor, with the 
 like,) which good reason engageth us perseveringly to seek, as 
 never to rest or be satisfied till we have acquired them in per- 
 fect degree; since we cannot ever do well without them, or 
 ever get enough of them. In begging other inferior things, it 
 may become us to be reserved, indifferent, and modest ; but 
 about these matters (wherein all our felicity is extremely con- 
 cerned) it were a folly to be slack or timorous ; as we cannot 
 be said immoderately to desire them, so we cannot be supposed
 
 136 BARROW. — SERMON VI. 
 
 immodestly to seek them there, where only they can be found, 
 in God's presence and hand. The case doth bear, yea, doth 
 require that we should be eager and hot, resolute and stiff, 
 free and bold, yea, in a manner peremptory and impudent 
 solicitors with God for them. So our Saviour intimateth, 
 where, comparing the manner of God's proceeding with that of 
 men, he representeth one friend yielding needful succour to 
 another, not barely on the score of friendship, but hta n)v livai- 
 heiav, ' for his impudence;' that is, for his confident and con- 
 tinued urgency, admitting no refusal or excuse. So doth God, 
 in such cases, allow and oblige us to deal with him, being 
 instant and pertinacious in our requests, ' giving him no rest,' 
 (as the phrase is in the prophet;) not enduring to be put oft', 
 or brooking any repulse ; never being discouraged, or cast into 
 despair, by any delay or semblance of neglect. We may 
 ' wrestle with God,' like Jacob, and with Jacob may say, ' I 
 will not let thee go except thou bless me.' Thus God suffer- 
 eth himself to be prevailed on, and is willingly overcome : thus 
 Omnipotence may be mastered, and a happy victory may be 
 oained over Invincibility itself. Heaven sometime may be 
 forced by storm, (or by the assaults of extremely fervent 
 prayer;) it assuredly will yield to a long siege. God will not 
 ever holdout against the attempts of an obstinate suppliant. 
 ' So the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent 
 take it by force.' We read in St. John's gospel of a man, that, 
 being thirty-eight years diseased, did wait at the pool of 
 Bethesda seeking relief: him our Lord pitied and helped, 
 crowning his patience with miraculous relief, and proposing it 
 for an example to us of perseverance. It is said of the 
 patriarch Isaac, that ' he intreated the Lord for his wife, 
 because she was barren ; and the Lord was intreated of him, 
 and Rebecca his wife conceived.' Whereon St. Chrysostom 
 doth observe that he had persevered twenty years in that 
 petition. 
 
 Of good success to this practice we have many assurances in 
 holy Scripture. ' The Lord is good unto them that wait for 
 him, to the soul that seeketh him.' ' Blessed are all they that 
 wait for him.' 'None that wait on him shall be ashamed.' 'They 
 that wait on the Lord shall renew their strength ; they shall
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 137 
 
 mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be 
 weary; they shall walk, and not faint.' So hath God assured 
 by his word, and engaged himself by promise, that he will yield 
 unto constant and patient devotion ; so that it shall never want 
 good success. 
 
 Without this practice we cannot indeed hope to obtain those 
 precious things ; they will not come at an easy rate, or be 
 given for a song ; a lazy wish or two cannot fetch them down 
 from heaven. God will not bestow them at first asking, or 
 deal them out in one lump; but it is on assiduous soliciting, 
 and by gradual communication, that he dispenseth them. So 
 his wise good will, for many special reasons, disposeth him to 
 proceed : that we may (as it becometh and behoveth us) abide 
 under a continual sense of our natural impotency and penury ; 
 of our dependence on God, and obligation to him for the free 
 collation of those best gifts ; that by some difficulty of pro- 
 curing them we may be minded of their worth, and induced the 
 more to prize them ; that by earnestly seeking them we may 
 improve our spiritual appetites, and excite holy affections ; 
 that by much conversing with heaven our minds may be raised 
 above earthly things, and our hearts purified from sordid 
 desires ; that we may have a constant employment answerable 
 to the best capacities of our souls, worthy our care and pain, 
 yielding most solid profit and pure delight unto us; that in 
 fine, by our greater endeavor in religious practice, we may 
 obtain a more ample reward thereof. 
 
 For the same reason indeed that we pray at all, we should 
 pray thus with continued instance. We do not pray to instruct 
 or advise God ; not to tell him news, or inform him of our 
 wants : (' he knows them,' as our Saviour telleth us, • before 
 we ask ;') nor do we pray by dint of argument to persuade God, 
 and bring him to our bent ; nor that by fair speech we may 
 cajole him or move his affections toward us by pathetical 
 orations : not for any such purpose are we obliged to pray. 
 But for that it becometh and behoveth us so to do, because it is 
 a proper instrument of bettering, ennobling, and perfecting our 
 souls ; because it breedeth most holy affections, and pure satis- 
 factions, and worthy resolutions ; because it fitteth us for the 
 enjoyment of happiness, and leadeth us thither ; for such ends
 
 138 BARROW, — SERMON VI. 
 
 devotion is prescribed ; and constant perseverance therein being- 
 needful to those purposes, (praying by fits and starts not suffi- 
 cing to accomplish them,) therefore such perseverance is re- 
 quired of us. Farther, 
 
 V. ' Praying incessantly' may import that we do with all 
 our occupations and all occurrences interlace devout ejacula- 
 tions of prayer and praise ; lifting up our hearts to God, and 
 breathing forth expressions of devotion, suitable to the objects 
 and occasions which present themselves. This, as it nearly 
 doth approach to the punctual accomplishment of what our 
 text prescribeth, so it seemeth required by St. Paul, when he 
 biddeth us ' pray always' ev nvevfian ' in spirit,' and to sing er 
 rp Kapbia, ' in the heart;' that is, with very frequent elevations 
 of spirit in holy thoughts and desires toward heaven ; with 
 opportune resentments of heart, directing thanks and praise to 
 God. We cannot ever be framing or venting long prayers 
 with our lips, but almost ever our mind can throw pious glances, 
 our heart may dart good wishes upwards ; so that hardly any 
 moment (any considerable space of time) shall pass without 
 some lightsome flashes of devotion.* As bodily respiration, 
 without intermission or impediment, doth concur with all our 
 actions, so may that breathing of soul, which preserveth our. 
 spiritual life, and ventilateth that holy flame within us, well 
 conspire with all other occupations.f For devotion is of a 
 nature so spiritual, so subtile, and penetrant, that no matter 
 can exclude or obstruct it. Our minds are so exceedingly 
 nimble and active, that no business can hold pace with them, or 
 exhaust their attention and activity. We can never be so 
 fully possessed by any employment, but that divers vacuities of 
 time do intercur, wherein our thoughts and aflections will be 
 diverted to other matters. As a covetous man, whatever 
 beside he is doing, will be carking about his bags and trea- 
 
 * Sed non satis pcrspicitiiit quantum uatura humani ingcnii va- 
 leat, quse ita est agilis et velox, sic in omuem partem (ut ita dixe- 
 rim) spectat, ut ne possit quidem aiiquid a2;ere tantum unum ; in 
 plura vero non eodem die mode, scd codem temporis momento, 
 vim suam impendat. — Quint, i. 12. 
 
 t MvrjfJioviVTeov yap Qeov fxaWov tl avaTrvevareov koI ei ofJv t€ rovro uirtiv, 
 fiTjOi &A\o ri ^ TovTo TTpaKTiou — Naz, Or. 33.
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 139 
 
 sures ; an ambitious man will be devising on his plots and 
 projects; a voluptuous man will have his mind in his dishes; a 
 lascivious man will be doting on his amours ; a studious man 
 will be musing on his notions; every man, according to his 
 particular inclination, will lard his business and besprinkle all 
 his actions with cares and wishes tending to the enjoyment of 
 what he most esteemeth and afFecteth : so may a good Christian, 
 through all his undertakings, wind in devout reflexions and 
 pious motions of soul toward the chief object of his mind and 
 affection. Most businesses have wide gaps, all have some 
 chinks, at which devotion may slip in. Be we never so 
 urgently set or closely intent on any work, (be we feeding, be 
 we travelling, be we trading, be we studying,) nothing yet 
 can forbid but that we may together wedge in a thought con- 
 cerning God's goodness, and bolt forth a word of praise for it ; 
 but that we may reflect on our sins, and spend a penitential 
 sigh on them ; but that wc may descry our need of God's help, 
 and dispatch a brief petition for it : a ' God be praised,' a 
 ' Lord have mercy,' a ' God bless,' or ' G(3id help me,' will 
 nowise interrupt or disturb our proceedings. * As worldly 
 cares and desires do often intrude and creep into our devotions, 
 distracting and defiling them ; so may spiritual thoughts and 
 holy aft'ections insinuate themselves into, and hallow our 
 secular transactions. This practice is very possible, and it is 
 no less expedient; for that if our employments be not thus 
 seasoned, they can have no true life or savor in them ; they 
 will in themselves be dead and putrid, they will be foul and 
 noisome, or at least flat and insipid unto us. 
 
 There are some other good meanings of this precept, accord- 
 ing to v/hich holy Scripture (backed with good reason) obli- 
 geth us to observe it : but those, (together with the general 
 inducements to the practice of this duty,) that I may not 
 farther now trespass on your patience, I shall reserve to 
 another opportunity. 
 
 * EtVe KOTO. Sidvota-J, 'EXeria-ou fie, 6 Qths, nal airripriffrai ffov -q eux/j. — ■ 
 Clirys. Orat. v. in Aiiuiiin, v. p. 78, 79.
 
 1-iO SUMMARY OF 
 
 SUMMARY OF SERMON VII. 
 
 1 THESSALONIANS, CHAP. V. — VERSE 17. 
 
 What the prayer here enjoined by St. Paul imports, and 
 how, according- to different senses, we may perform this duty 
 incessantly, has been declared in the preceding discourse : 
 two or three more are now added and pressed on our obser- 
 vation. 
 
 VI. Praying incessantly may imply that we appoint certain 
 times conveniently distant for the practice of devotion, and 
 carefully observe them : as the Jews had a sacrifice called 
 Tamidh, which being constantly offered at set times, was 
 thence denominated the continual sacrifice ; so may we, by 
 punctually observing fit returns of devotion, be said to pray 
 incessantly. Reasons given why we should do this. In 
 determining these seasons according to just proportions, honest 
 prudence must arbitrate. It is shown how that nature herself 
 seems to prescribe and define certain seasons and periods of 
 this kind. These times it is necessary or expedient that 
 persons of the highest rank and greatest employment should 
 observe. God himself appointed such in his law, or by his 
 prophets; besides which, there were other middle times farther 
 observed by devout people who had leisure and disposition 
 of mind thereto : references to such in the holy Scripture. 
 And if the Jews were so liberal in appointing times for 
 yielding praise and offering supplications to God, how much 
 more ready and diligent should we be, who have a religion 
 far more spiritual and exempt from corporeal incumbrances ? 
 But,
 
 SERMON VII. 141 
 
 VII. This precept may be more especially supposed to 
 exact from us a compliance in carefully observing the times of 
 devotion ordained by public authority, or settled by general 
 custom. This in a popular and legal sense is doing a thing 
 indesinently, when we perform it so often as is required by law 
 or custom : illustrations from Scripture. Motives for our ob- 
 serving these legal times, given from reason, and enforced by 
 Scripture. 
 
 VIII. Lastly, praying incessantly may import at large a 
 frequency in devotion. This the words at least do exact or 
 necessarily imply, however expounded : for doing a thing 
 incessantly cannot imply less than doing it frequently ; but it 
 is an ordinary figure of speech to say, a man does that always 
 which he is wont to do and performs often : this illustrated 
 from Scripture. It is shown that the causes of devotion being 
 so constant, the effects in some correspondence should be 
 frequent. 
 
 Such frequency necessary for the nourishment, growth, and 
 improvement of all piety ; to keep us steady in our obedience ; 
 to correct our perverse inclinations, and subdue our vicious 
 appetites ; to maintain that friendship with God, which is the 
 soul of piety. It is the frequency of devotion which alone can 
 secure any practice thereof, at least any duly qualified. It is 
 this which will render the way into God's presence smooth and 
 passable, removing all fear and doubt in respect to God, which 
 might deter or discourage us from approaching him : this illus- 
 trated by quotations from holy Scripture. 
 
 From thus praying continually there can be no good 
 exception or just excuse. The most common pleas alleged 
 for the omission are two ; one drawn from external avo- 
 cations, the other from internal indispositions obstructing it ; 
 both of which rather serve to aggravate than to excuse the 
 neglect.
 
 142 SUMMARY OF 
 
 I. The first plea or apology refuted by a few questions 
 asked concerning it. 1. Do we take devotion itself to be no 
 business, or a business of no consideration ? 2. What other 
 affairs can we have of greater moment or necessity? 3. If we 
 survey and prize all worldly affairs, which among them will 
 appear so importunate as to demand, or so worthy as to deserve 
 all our time, that we cannot spare a few moments for inter- 
 course with heaven ? 4. Should we not, if we honestly made 
 the comparison, easily discern that it is no indispensable 
 business, but rather some base dotage on lucre, some inveig- 
 ling pleasure, that crosses our devotion? 5. Is it not com- 
 monly sloth rather than activity that diverts us from our 
 prayers ? 6. But even if there were, not a counterfeit, but a 
 real competition between devotion and other lawful business, 
 which in reason ought to carry it ? which in conscience ought 
 to be forborne or suspended ? 7. Is it not strangely absurd 
 and unhandsome to say, I cannot wait on God, because I must 
 speak with a friend ; I cannot go to church, though God calls 
 me thither, because I must haste to market, &c. ? 8. More- 
 over if we reflect on the large portions of time which we 
 squander on our petty matters or voluptuous enjoyments, how 
 can we satisfy ourselves in not allotting competent time for 
 God's service, and our own salvation ? 9, Again, is it not great 
 imprudence so to lay our business, that any other matter shall 
 thwart or thrust out devotion ? 10. In truth, will not an 
 attendance on devotion be a great furtherance to all other good 
 business? This point enlarged on: instances given of David. 
 Daniel, and Constantine. 
 
 II. No better caM a man ward off blame from himself, by 
 imputing the neglect of devotion to some indisposition from 
 within. Ihis is only to cover one fault with another ; is in 
 effect to say, we may sin because we have a mind to it : our 
 indisposition itself is criminal, and the more so from its being
 
 SERMON VII. 143 
 
 somewhat habitual : it ought therefore to be corrected and 
 cured by an immediate practice of the duty, and by resolute 
 perseverance in it. Prayer by degrees will become natural and 
 deligrhtful to us.
 
 144 BARROW. — SERMON VII. 
 
 SERMON VII. 
 
 OF THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 
 
 I THESSALONIANS, CHAP. V. — VERSE 17. 
 Pray without ceasing. 
 
 What the prayer here enjoined by St. Paul doth import, 
 and how by it universally all sorts of devotion should be under- 
 stood, we did formerly discourse. How also according to 
 divers senses (grounded in holy Scripture, and enforced by good 
 reason) we may perform this duty incessantly, we did then 
 declare ; five such senses we did mention and prosecute : I 
 shall now add two or three more, and press them. 
 
 VI. Praying then incessantly may imply that we do ap- 
 point certain times conveniently distant for the practice of 
 devotion, and carefully observe them. To keep the Jews in a 
 constant exercise of divine worship, God did constitute a sacri- 
 fice, which was called Tamidh, (>/ hianavTos dvcia) the conti- 
 nual sacrifice. And as that sacrifice, being constantly oftered 
 at set times, was thence denominated continual ; so may we, 
 by punctually observing fit returns of devotion, be said to pray 
 incessantly. 
 
 And great reason there is that we should do so. For we 
 know that all persons, who would not lead a loose and slatter- 
 ing life, but design with good assurance and advantage to pro- 
 secute an orderly course of action, are wont to distribute their 
 time into several parcels ; assigning some part thereof to the 
 necessary refection of their bodies, some to the convenient re- 
 laxation of their minds, some to the dispatch of their ordinary 
 affairs, some also to familiar conversation and interchanging
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 145 
 
 good offices with their friends;* considering that otherwise 
 they shall be uncertain and ' unstable in all their ways.' And 
 in this distribution of time devotion surely should not lack its 
 share : it rather justly claimeth the choicest portion to be al- 
 lotted thereto, as being incomparably the noblest part of our 
 duty, and niainest concernment of our lives. The feeding our 
 souls and nourishing our spiritual life, the refreshing our spirits 
 with those no less pleasant than wholesome exercises, the 
 driving on our correspondence and commerce with heaven, the 
 improving our friendship and interest with God, are affairs 
 which above all others do best deserve and most need being 
 secured. They must not therefore be left at random, to be done 
 by the by, as it hitteth by chance, or as the fancy taketh us. 
 If we do not depute vacant seasons, and fix periodical returns 
 for devotion, engaging ourselves by firm resolution, and inuring 
 our minds by constant usage to the strict observance of them, 
 secluding from them, as from sacred inclosures, all other busi- 
 nesses ; we shall often be dangerously tempted to neglect it, 
 we shall be commonly listless to it, prone to defer it, easily 
 seduced from it by the encroachment of other affairs, or entice- 
 ment of other pleasures. It is requisite that our souls also (no 
 less than our bodies) should hare their meals, settled at such 
 intervals as the maintenance of their life, their health, their 
 strength and vigor do require ; that they may not perish or 
 languish for want of timely repasts ; that a good appetite may 
 duly spring up, prompting and instigating to them ; that a sound 
 temper and robust constitution of soul may be preserved by 
 them. 
 
 Prayers are the bulwarks of piety and good conscience, the 
 which ought to be placed so as to flank and relieve one another, 
 together with the interjacent spaces of our life ; that the enemy 
 ('the sin which doth so easily beset us') may not come on be- 
 tween, or at any time assault us, without a force sufficiently 
 near to reach and repel him. 
 
 In determining these seasons and measures of time according 
 to just proportion, honest prudence (weighing the several con- 
 
 * Cur ipsi aliquid forcnsibus negoliis, aliquici desideriis amico- 
 rUm, ali«(uid rationibcis domestuns, aliquid curae corporis, nonniliil 
 voluptati quotidie damns? — Quint, i. 12. 
 
 BAR. VOL. 1. G
 
 146 BARROW. — SERMON VII. 
 
 ditions, capacities, and circumstances of each person) must ar- 
 bitrate. For some difference is to be made between a merchant 
 and a monk, between those who follow a court, and those who 
 reside in a cloister or a college. Some men having great in- 
 cumbrances of business and duty by necessity imposed on tbem, 
 which consume much of their time, and engage their thoughts ; 
 of them in reason, neither so frequent recourses to, nor so long 
 continuance in prayer can be demanded, as from those who 
 enjoy more abundant leisure, and freer scope of thoughts. 
 But some fit times ail may and must allow, which no avocation 
 of business, no distraction of care should purloin from them. 
 
 Certain seasons and periods of this kind nature itself (in cor- 
 respondence to her unalterable revolutions) doth seem to define 
 and prescribe : those which the royal prophet recommendeth, 
 when he saith, ' It is a good thing to give thanks unto the 
 Lord, and to sing praises unto thy name, O thou most high :' 
 ' To show forth thy loving-kindness every morning, and thy 
 faithfulness every night.' Every day we do recover and receive 
 a new life from God; every morning we do commence busi- 
 ness, or revive it ; from our bed of rest and security we then 
 issue forth, exposing ourselves to the cares and toils, to the 
 dangers, troubles, and temptations of the world : then espe- 
 cially therefore it is reasonable that we should sacrifice thanks 
 to the gracious preserver of our life, and the faithful restorer of 
 its supports and comforts ; that we should crave his direction 
 and help in the pursuit of our honest undertakings ; that to 
 his protection from sin and mischief we should recommend 
 ourselves and our affairs ; that, by offering up to him the first- 
 fruits of our diurnal labors, we should consecrate and consign 
 them all to his blessing ; that as we are then wont to salute all 
 the world, so then chiefly with humble obeisance we should 
 accost him, who is ever present with us, and continually watch- 
 ful over us. Then also peculiarly devotion is most seasonable, 
 because then our minds being less prepossessed and pestered with 
 other cares, our fancies becoming lively and gay, our memo- 
 ries fresh and prompt, our spirits copious and brisk, we are 
 better disposed for it. 
 
 Every night also reason calleth for these duties ; requiring 
 that we should close our business and wind up all our cares in 
 
 A
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 147 
 
 devotion; that we should then bless God for his gracious pre- 
 servation of us from the manifold hazards and the sins to which 
 we stood obnoxious ; that we should implore his mercy for 
 the manifold neglects and transgressions of our duty, which 
 through the day past we have incurred ; that our minds being 
 then so tired with study and care, our spirits so wasted with 
 labor and toil, that we cannot any longer sustain ourselves, but 
 do of our own accord sink down into a posture of death, we 
 should, as dying men, resign our souls into God's hand, depo- 
 siting ourselves and our concernments into his custody, who 
 alone ' doth never sleep nor slumber ;' praying that he would 
 guard us from all the dangers and disturbances incident to us 
 in that state of forgetfulness, and interregnum of our reason ; 
 that he would grant us a happy resurrection in safety and 
 health, with a good and cheerful mind, enabling us there- 
 after comfortably to enjoy ourselves, and delightfully to serve 
 him. 
 
 Thus if we do constantly bound and circumscribe our days, 
 dedicating those most remarkable breaks of time unto God's ser- 
 vice, since beginning and end do comprehend the whole, seeing, 
 in the computation and style of Moses, ' evening and morning ' 
 do constitute a day : we may with some good congruity be said 
 to pray incessantly. 
 
 Especially if at the middle distance between those extremes 
 we are wont to interpose somewhat of devotion. For as then 
 usually our spirits, being somewhat shattered and spent, do 
 need a recruit, enabling us to pass through the residue of the day 
 with its incumbent business ; so then it would do well, and may 
 be requisite, in a meal of devotion to refresh our souls with 
 spiritual sustenance, drawn from the never-failing storehouse of 
 divine grace ; which may so fortify us, that with due vigor and 
 alacrity we may perform the ensuing duties to God's honor and 
 our own comfort. Thus to practise was the resolution of the 
 psalmist, that great master of devotion : ' evening,' said he, 
 * and morning, and at noon, will I pray, and cry aloud.' And 
 this was the custom of the noble Daniel, from which no occa- 
 sion could divert, no hazard could deter him ; * he kneeled,' 
 saith the story, ' on his knees three times a day, and prayed, 
 and gave thanks before his God.'
 
 148 BARROW. — SERMON VII. 
 
 These are times which it is necessary or very expedient that 
 all men (even persons of highest rank and greatest employment) 
 should observe. These even of old were the practices of reli- 
 gious persons, not expressly prescribed by God's law, but as- 
 sumed by themselves ; good reason suggesting them to the first 
 practisers, and the consenting example of pious men afterward 
 inforcing them. 
 
 God indeed did himself in his law, or by his prophets, ap- 
 point public and solemn celebrations of worship to himself, in 
 sacrifices (involving prayer and accompanied therewith) con- 
 stantly to be oft'ered every morning and evening: religious 
 princes also did institute services of thanksgiving and praise to 
 be performed at those times : but there doth not appear any 
 direct institution of private devotion, or its circumstances; but 
 the practice thereof seemeth originally to have been purely vo- 
 luntary, managed and measured according to the reason, by the 
 choice of each person ; yet so that the practice of eminently 
 good men leading, and others following, it grew into a kind of 
 common law, or standing rule, (seeming to carry an obligation 
 with it,) to observe the times specified. 
 
 Besides those three times, there were farther other middle 
 times observed by devout people, who had leisure aud dispo- 
 sition of mind thereto ; once between morning and noon, and 
 once between noon and evening were sequestered to that pur-, 
 pose : whence in the Acts the ninth hour of the day (that is, 
 the middle interval between noon and evening) is called ' the 
 hour of prayer.' Yea, some did impose on themselves the ob- 
 servation of two other times, one between evening and midnight, 
 the other between midnight and morn. To which practice those 
 places in the Psalms do seem to allude : ' My mouth shall 
 praise thee with joyful lips, when I remember thee on my bed, 
 and meditate on thee in the night-watches.' * I prevented the 
 dawning of the morning, and cried ; mine eyes prevent the 
 night-watches, that I may meditate on thy word.' And plainly 
 the whole number of those times which the psalmist observed, is 
 expressed in those words : ' seven times a day will I praise thee, 
 because of thy righteous judgments.' Which examples whoever 
 shall choose to follow, (in any measure,) he shall do wisely 
 and commendably ; he shall certainly have no cause to repent;
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 149 
 
 he will find it richly worth his while ; great benefit and com- 
 fort will thence accrue unto him. 
 
 If indeed Jews were so liberal in assigning, so punctual in 
 affording such portions of time for yielding praise, and offering 
 supplications unto God ; how much more free and ready, more 
 careful and diligent, should we be in this way of practice ? we 
 who have a religion so far more spiritual, and exempt from 
 corporeal incumbrances ; precepts so much more express and 
 clear ; so much higher obligations and stronger encourage- 
 ments to this duty; whom God in especial manner so gra- 
 ciously doth invite, so powerfully doth attract unto himself? 
 But farther, 
 
 VII. More especially this precept may be supposed to exact 
 from us a compliance in carefully observing the times of devo- 
 tion ordained by public authority, or settled by general cus- 
 tom. This in a popular and legal sense is doing a thing in- 
 desinently, when we perform it so often as is required by law 
 or custom. So the Apostle to the Hebrews saith of the 
 priests, that ' they went always into the tabernacle, accom- 
 plishing the service of God :' always, that is, at all the solemn 
 times appointed. And thus of the Apostles it is affirmed by 
 St. Luke, that ' they were continually in the temple, blessing 
 and praising God ;' that is, they constantly resorted thither 
 at the stated times of concourse for prayer. This good reason 
 also plainly doth injoin : for that the neglecting it is not only 
 a disorderly behavior in a matter of high consequence ; a cri- 
 minal disregard and disobedience to authority; a scandalous 
 contempt of our neighbors, from whose laudable fashion we 
 discost; a wrongful deserting the public, to whose good, mainly 
 promoted by the public worship of God, we do owe the contri- 
 bution of our endeavor ; but a heinous affront to Almighty 
 God, who thereby is plainly dishonored, and in a manner 
 openly disavowed; a huge prejudice to religion, the credit 
 and power whereof, without visible profession, exemplary com- 
 pliance, mutual consent and encouragement, cannot be upheld. 
 Were there times by law or custom defined, (as in some places 
 indeed there are,) when all men should be required in person 
 solemnly to attend on their prince, for professing their allegi- 
 ance, or deferring any homage to him ; would not those who
 
 150 BARROW. — SERMON VII* 
 
 should wilfully refuse or decline appearance, be justly charge- 
 able as guilty of dishonoring and wronging him ? would not 
 their such defailance pass for sufficient proof that they do not 
 acknowlege him, that at least they do not much regard or value 
 him ? So, by not joining at stated times in celebration of divine 
 worship, we may be well conceived wholly to disclaim God, or 
 greatly to disesteem him ; to slight religion, as a thing insignifi- 
 cant and unprofitable. Do we not indeed thereby more than 
 intimate that we little believe God to be our sovereign Lord 
 and Governor ; that we stand in no great awe or dread of him ; 
 that we are not much sensible of his benefits and mercies ; that 
 we repose small trust or hope in him ; that we do not take our- 
 selves much to want his protection, his guidance, his assistance, 
 his favor and mercy ? Are we not in effect like to those in Job, 
 who 'say unto God, Depart from us; for we desire not the 
 knowlege of thy ways ? What is the Almighty, that we should 
 serve him ? or what profit shall we have if we pray unto him V 
 Thus the standers-by commonly (some so as to be much offended 
 at, others so as to be corrupted by our bad example) will in- 
 terpret this neglect ; and so assuredly God himself will take it 
 from us, and accordingly deal with us. As he claimeth this 
 public attendance on him for his due: (' give,' proclaimeth he 
 by the mouth of one of his great heralds, • give unto the Lord, 
 O ye mighty, give unto the Lord glory and strength :' * give unto 
 the Lord the glory due to his name : worship the Lord in the ^ 
 beauty of holiness :') so if we to his wrong and disgrace refuse 
 to yield it, we shall certainly find answerable resentment and 
 recompense from him : that as we are careless to serve him, so 
 he will be unmindful to bless us ; as we are backward to avow 
 and glorify him, so he will not be forward to own and grace us ; 
 as we do so ' deny him before men,' so ' he will deny us be- 
 iore them also.' What other measure indeed can we imagine 
 or expect to receive ? Will God, think we, be so partial and 
 fond of us, so disregardful and injurious toward himself, that 
 he will vouchsafe to appear in favor to us, when we deign not 
 to appear in respect to him ? that he will openly tender our 
 repute, when we apparently disregard his honor? that he will 
 employ his wisdom, or exert his power in our behalf, when we 
 scarce will think a thought, or stir a step, for his service ? Can
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 151 
 
 we hope that he will freely dispense prosperous success to our 
 enterprises, when we either care not or scorn to implore his 
 help ? that he will reach forth undeserved blessings to us, when 
 we subtract due praises from him ? that he will anywise show 
 himself bountiful and merciful toward us, when we so palpably 
 are unjust and ingrateful toward him ? ]\o, 'surely he scorn- 
 eth the scorners ;' and ' whosoever despiseth him shall be 
 lightly esteemed :' so he expressly hath threatened ; and seeing 
 he is both infallibly true and invincibly able, we may reason- 
 ably presume that he will accomplish his word. 
 
 VIII. Lastly, ' praying incessantly' may import at large a 
 frequency in devotion. This the words at least do exact or 
 necessarily imply, however expounded. For doing incessantly 
 cannot imply less than doing frequently : in no tolerable sense 
 can we be said to do that continually which we do seldom : 
 but it is an ordinary scheme of speech to say that a man doth 
 that always, which he is wont to do, and perforraeth often. 
 As of the pious soldier Cornelius it is said, that he ' gave 
 much alms to the people, and prayed to God always ;' and of 
 Anna the prophetess, that she ' departed not from the temple, 
 but served God with prayers and fastings night and day ;' that 
 is, she frequently resorted to the temple, and served God with 
 an assiduous constancy. As the words may bear and do in- 
 volve this sense, so doth the reason of the case enforce it : for 
 very just, very fit, very needful it is to practise thus. There 
 is ever at hand abundant reason for, and apposite matter of, 
 devotion ; therefore no large space of time should pass without 
 it : there be perpetually depending many causes thereof ; whence 
 there is not to be allowed any long vacation from it. As every 
 moment we from God's mercy and bounty partake great fa- 
 vors ; so should we often render thanks and praise for them : 
 for perpetually to receive courtesies, and rarely to return ac- 
 knowlegements, is notorious ingratitude and iniquity. We 
 frequently (and in a manner continually) do fall into sins; 
 often therefore we are obliged to confess sins, we are concerned 
 to deprecate wrath and beg mercy ; otherwise we must long 
 crouch under the sore burden of guilt, the sad dread of punish- 
 ment, the bitter pangs of remorse, or the desperate hazard of 
 fctupid obduration. Whatever we design or undertake, to-
 
 1.32 BARROW. — SERMON VII. 
 
 ward the good management and happy success thereof, we 
 (being ignorant and impotent creatures) do need tlie guidance, 
 the assistance, and the blessing of God ; so often therefore it is 
 requisite that we should be seeking and suing for them : if 
 not, we do not only transgress our duties, but fondly neglect or 
 foully betray our own concernments. The causes therefore of 
 devotion being so constant, the effects in some correspondence 
 should be frequent. 
 
 Such frequency is indeed necessary for the breeding, the 
 nourishment, the growth and improvement of all piety. Devo- 
 tion is that holy and heavenly fire, which darteth into our 
 minds the light of spiritual knowlege, which kindleth in our 
 hearts the warmth of holy desires : if therefore we do continue 
 long absent from it, a night of darkness will overspread our 
 minds, a deadening coldness will seize on our aftections. It is 
 the best food of our souls which preserveth their life and health, 
 which repaireth their strength and vigor, which rendereth them 
 lusty and active : if we therefore long abstain from it, we shall 
 starve or pine away ; we shall be faint and feeble in all reli- 
 gious performances ; we shall have none at all, or a very lan- 
 guid and meagTC piety. 
 
 To maintain in us a constant and steady disposition to obe-r 
 dience, to correct our perverse inclinations, to curb our unruly 
 passions, to strengthen us against temptations, to comfort us in 
 anxieties and distresses, we do need continual supplies of grace 
 from God ; the which ordinarily are communicated in devotion, 
 as the channel which conveyeth, or the instrument which help- 
 eth to procure it, or the condition on which it is granted. Faith, 
 hope, love, spiritual comfort, and joy, all divine graces are 
 chiefly elicited, expressed, exercised therein and thereby: it is 
 therefore needful that it should frequently be used ; seeing other- 
 wise we shall be in danger to fail in discharging our chief 
 duties, and to want the best graces. 
 
 It is frequency of devotion also which maintaineth that friend- 
 ship with God which is the soul of piety. As familiar conver- 
 sation (wherein men do express their minds and affections mu- 
 tually) breedeth acquaintance, and cherisheth good-will of 
 men to one another ; but long forbearance thereof dissolveth or 
 slackeneth the bonds of amitv, breaking their intimacy, and
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 153 
 
 cooling their kindness : so is it in respect to God ; it is frequent 
 converse with him which begettetli a particular acquaintance 
 with him, a mindful regard of him, a hearty liking to him, a 
 delightful taste of his goodness, and consequently a sincere and 
 solid good-will toward him ; but intermission thereof produceth 
 estrangement or enmity toward him, If we seldom come at 
 God, we shall little know him, not much care for him, scarce 
 remember him, rest insensible of his love, and regardless of his 
 favor ; a coldness, a shyness, a distaste, an antipathy toward 
 him will by degrees creep on us. Abstinence from his company 
 and presence will cast us into conversations destructive or pre- 
 judicial to our friendship with him ; wherein soon we shall con- 
 tract familiarity and friendship with his enemies, (the world 
 and the flesh,) which are inconsistent with love to him, which 
 will dispose us to forget him, or to dislike and loathe him. 
 
 It is, in fine, the frequency of devotion which alone can se- 
 cure any practice thereof, at least any practice thereof duly 
 qualified; so hearty, so easy, so sweet and delightful as it 
 should be. We have all a natural averseness or indisposition 
 thereto, as requiring an abstraction of thoughts and affections 
 from sensible things, and a fastening them on objects purely 
 spiritual ; a rearing our heavy spirits above their common pitch; 
 a staying and settling our roving fancies ; a composing our vain 
 hearts in a sober and steady frame, agreeable to devotion : to 
 eff^ect which things is a matter of no small difficulty and pain ; 
 which therefore, without much use and exercise, cannot be ac- 
 complished, but with it may ; so that by frequent practice, the 
 bent of our heart being turned, the strangeness of the thing ceas- 
 ing, the difficulty of the work being surmounted, we shall obtain 
 a good propension to the duty, and a great satisfaction therein. 
 
 This will render the way into God's presence smooth and 
 passable ; removing, as ail other obstacles, so particularly those 
 of fear and doubt in respect to God, which may deter or dis- 
 courage us from approaching to him. God being most holy and 
 pure, most great and glorious, we, sensible of our corruption 
 and vileness, may be fearful and shy of coming near unto him. 
 But when coming into his presence we do find that ' such as 
 tiis majesty is, such is his mercy ;' when we do ' taste and see
 
 154 BARROW. — SERMON VII. 
 
 that the Lord is good ;' when by experience we feel that ' in 
 his presence there is fulness of joy ;' being ' abundantly satisfied 
 with the fatness of his house;' having our souls there ' satisfied 
 as with marrow and fatness;' finding that ' a day in his courts 
 is better than a thousand ' spent otherwhere ; perceiving that he 
 biddeth us welcome, that he treateth us kindly, that he sendeth 
 us away refreshed with sweetest comforts, and rewarded with 
 most excellent benefits ; this will not only reconcile our hearts 
 to devotion, but draw us into a cordial liking and earnest desire 
 thereof; such as the psalmist expresseth, when he saith, ' My 
 soul longeth, yea, even fainteth, for the courts of the Lord : my 
 heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God.' This will 
 engage us into strong resolutions of constantly practising it ; 
 such as the same holy person again declareth in these words ; 
 ' 1 love the Lord, because he hath heard ray voice and my sup- 
 plications : because he hath inclined his ear unto me, therefore 
 will I call on him as long as I live.' Hence, instead of a sus- 
 picious estrangedness, a servile dread, or an hostile disaffection 
 toward God, there will spring up an humble confidence, a kindly 
 reverence, a hearty love toward him ; which will on all occa- 
 sions drive us to him, hoping for his friendly succor, longing 
 after his kind embraces. So will the frequency of devotion ren- 
 der it facile and pleasant. Whereas, on the contrary, disuse 
 thereof will make it at any time hard and irksome ; strength- 
 ening and increasing our natural averseness thereto : perform- 
 ing it seldom, we shall never perform it well, with that atten- 
 tion, that affection, that promptitude, that willingness and ala- 
 crity, which are due thereto. 
 
 According to so many senses, in so many respects, may we, 
 and should we observe this precept. From thus praying con- 
 tinually there can be no good exception or just excuse. The 
 most comn^on pleas that will be alleged for the omission thereof 
 are two ; one drawn from external avocations, the other from 
 internal indispositions obstructing it : both of which are so far 
 from being good, that being scanned, they will soon appear 
 serving rather to aggravate tiian to excuse or abate the neglect. 
 I. I cannot, saith one, now attend to prayers, because I am 
 not at liberty, or at leisure, being urgently called away, and
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER. lo5 
 
 otherwise engaged by important affairs. How much a flam 
 this apology is we shall presently descry, by asking a few 
 questions about it. 
 
 1. Do we take devotion itself to be no business, or a business 
 of no consideration ? Do we conceit, when we pay God his 
 debts, or discharge our duties toward him, when we crave his 
 aid or mercy, when we solicit the main concernments of our 
 soul, (yea, of our body also and its estate,) that we are idle or 
 misemployed ; that we lavish our time, or lose our pains? 
 
 2. What other aifairs can we have of greater moment or 
 )iecessity than this ? Can there be any obligation more indis- 
 pensable than is that of yielding due respect and service to our 
 Maker, our great Patron, our most liberal Benefactor ? Can 
 there be any interest more close or weighty than this, of pro- 
 viding for our souls' eternal health and happiness ? Is not this 
 indeed the great v/ork, ' the only necessary matter,' in com- 
 parison whereto all other occupations are mere trifling, or 
 unprofitable fiddling about nothing ? What will all other 
 business signify, what will come of it, if this be neglected ? 
 Busy we may be, we may plod, we may drudge eternally ; 
 but all to no end. All our care is in effect improvidence, all 
 our industry may be well reckoned idleness, if God be not 
 served, if our souls are not secured. 
 
 3. If we survey and prize all worldly, businesses, which 
 among them will appear so importunate as to demand, so 
 greedy as to devour, so worthy at least as to deserve all our 
 time, that we cannot spare a few minutes for maintaining our 
 most pleasant intercourse, and most gainful commerce with 
 heaven? What are the great businesses of the world ? what 
 but scraping and scrambling for pelf, contriving and compas- 
 sing designs of ambition, courting the favor and respect of men, 
 making provision for carnal pleasure, gratifying fond curiosity 
 or vain humor? And do any of these deserve to be put into 
 the scale against, shall all of them together be' able to sway 
 down our spiritual employments? Shall these images, these 
 shadows of business, supplant or crowd our devotion ; that 
 which procureth wealth inestimably precious, pleasure infi- 
 nitely satisfactory, honor incomparably noble above all this 
 world can afford ? If the expense of time be, as the philoi^
 
 156 BARROW. — SERMOjV Vtl. 
 
 sopher Theophrastus said, TroXwreXeorarov avaXwfia, ' the IMOst 
 precious expense' that can be; how can it better be laid out than 
 on the worthiest things, such as devotion alone can afford the 
 purchase and possession of? True virtue, sound wisdom, a 
 quiet conscience, and steady tranquillity of mind, the love and 
 favor of God, a title unto endless joy and bliss, are purely the 
 gifts of Heaven ; and thence they will not descend of them- 
 selves, but prayer must fetch them down. If nothing then in 
 the world be comparable to those things, how can any time be 
 so well spent as in prayer, which acquireth them ; which also 
 best secureth whatever we have, and is the readiest way to pro- 
 cure whatever we want ? 
 
 4. Should we not farther, honestly comparing things, easily 
 discern that it is no such indispensable business, but rather 
 indeed some base dotage on lucre, some inveigling bait of 
 pleasure, some bewitching transport of fancy, that crosseth our 
 devotion ? Is it not often a complimental visit, an appoint- 
 ment to tattle or to tipple, a match for sport, a wild ramble in 
 vice or folly, that so deeply engageth us to put off our duty? 
 
 5. Yea, is it not commonly sloth rather than activity, an 
 averseness from this, rather than an inclination to any other 
 employment, which diverteth us from our prayers ? Is not, I 
 say, the true reason why we pray so seldom, not because we are 
 very busy, but because we are extremely idle ; so idle, that we 
 cannot willingly take the pains to unscrew our affections from 
 sensible things, to reduce our wandering thoughts, to compose 
 our hearts into a right frame, to bend our untoward inclina- 
 tions to a compliance with our duty ? Is it not because we do 
 not feel that favor and satisfaction in these, which we do in 
 other trivial and worthless employments, nor will be at the 
 trouble to work such dispositions in our souls ? Do we not 
 betake ourselves to other conversations and commerces merely 
 for refuge, shunning this intercourse with God and with our- 
 selves? These, I fear, are oftener the real causes of our neg- 
 lecting devotion, than any such mighty avocations which we 
 pretend. 
 
 6. But were there indeed not only a counterfeit or imaginary, 
 hut a real competition between devotion and other lawful 
 business, which, in reason, should carry it? in conscience.
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 157 
 
 which of the two should be forborne or suspended ? Is it not 
 evidently better that the pursuit of our temporal interests, 
 whatever they be, should be a little checked, than that our 
 affairs of everlasting consequence should be quite laid aside ? 
 that we should venture a small impairing of our estate, than 
 surely endamage our souls ? that we hazard to disappoint or 
 displease a man, than dare to affront and offend the Almighty 
 God? 
 
 7. Were it not strangely absurd and unhandsome to say, I 
 cannot wait on God, because I must speak with a friend ; I 
 cannot go to church, although God calleth me thither, because 
 I must haste to market ; I cannot stand to pray, because I am 
 to receive money, or to make up a bargain ; I cannot dis- 
 charge my duty to God, because a greater obligation than that 
 doth lie on me ? How unconceivable an honor, howunvaluable 
 a benefit is it, that the incomprehensibly great and glorious 
 Majesty of heaven doth vouchsafe us the liberty to approach 
 so near unto him, to converse so freely with him, to demand 
 and derive from his hand the supply of all our needs, and satis- 
 faction of all our reasonable desires? and is it then just or 
 seemly, by such comparisons to disparage his favor, by such 
 pretences to baffle with his goodness ? 
 
 Put the case our prince should call for us to speak with him 
 about matters nearly touching his service and our welfare ; 
 would it be according unto duty, discretion, or decency, to 
 reply, that we are at present busy, and have no leisure, and 
 must therefore hold ourselves excused ; but that, if he will 
 stay awhile, at another time, when we have less to do, we shall 
 be perhaps disposed to wait on him ? The case is propounded 
 by our Lord in that parable, wherein God is represented as a 
 great man, that had prepared a feast, and invited many guests 
 thereto ; but they excused themselves : ' One said, that he had 
 purchased land, and must needs go out to see it : another had 
 bought five yoke of oxen, and must go to prove them ; another 
 had married a wife, and therefore could not come.' These 
 indeed were affairs considerable, as this world hath any; but 
 yet the excuses did not satisfy; for, notwithstanding, the great 
 person was angry, and took the neglect in huge disdain. 
 
 8. Moreover, if we reflect what vast portions of time we
 
 158 BARROW. — SERMON VII. 
 
 squander away on our petty matters, on voluptuous enjoyments, 
 on fruitless pastimes, on impertinent talk ; how can we satisfy 
 ourselves in not alloting competent time for God's service, our 
 own salvation, and the future everlasting state ? Doth not he, 
 who, with the continuance of our life, bestoweth on us all our 
 time, deserve that a pittance of it should be reserved for him- 
 self? Can all the world duly claim so great an allowance 
 thereof? May not our soul (which is far our noblest part, 
 which indeed is all ourselves) justly challenge a good share of 
 our time to be expended on it ? or shall this mortal husk 
 engross it all? Must eternity, which comprehendeth all 
 time, have no time belonging to it, or allotted for its concern- 
 ments ? 
 
 9. Again, is it not great imprudence so to lay our business, 
 that any other matter shall thwart or thrust out devotion ? 
 Easily with a little providence may things be so ordered, that 
 it, without interfering or justling, may well consist with all 
 other both needful business, and convenient divertisement ; so 
 that it shall neither obstruct them, nor they extrude it ; and 
 are we not very culpable, if we do not use so much provi- 
 dence ?* 
 
 10. In truth, attending on devotion can be no obstacle, but 
 will be great furtherance to all other good business. It is the 
 most sure, most pleasant, most advantageous and compendious 
 way of transacting affairs, to mix prayers and praises with 
 them ; it is the best oil that can be, to make the wheels of 
 action go on smoothly and speedily : it not only sanctifieth our 
 undertakings, but much promoteth and exceedingly sweeteneth 
 the management of them. For the conscience of having ren- 
 dered unto God his due respect and service, of having intrusted 
 our affairs to his care, of having consequently engaged his pro- 
 tection and assistance for us, will dispose us to do things with 
 a courageous alacrity and comfortable satisfaction ; will till us 
 with a good hope of prospering ; will prepare us however to be 
 satisfied with the event, whatever it shall be ; will in effect 
 
 * XlpuTov ixev, avrh tovto etkAtjjUu ov /j-iKphv, rb KvKXovcrdai roaovruiy irpay- 
 fxiTuiv TrXr/dei, leal to7s I3iqjtiko7s outu Trpo(nf)\(ia6ai Sta iravTo?, ois jtiTjSe fj-iKpav 
 (Is TairdvTuu avayKaidrepaayeiv ax"^''!'^' — Chrys. in Joli. i. 14. (Or. 11.)
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 1 5I> 
 
 procure a blessing and happy success, such as we may truly 
 rejoice and triumph in, as conferred by God in favor to us. 
 Whereas neglecting these duties, we can have no solid content 
 or savory complacence in any thing we undertake : reflecting 
 on such misbehavior (if we be not downright infidels, or obdurate 
 reprobates in impiety) will quash or damp our courage : having 
 thence forfeited all pretence to God's succor, and provoked 
 him to cross us, we must needs suspect disappointment : as we 
 have no reasonable ground to hope for success ; so we cannot, 
 if success arriveth, be heartily satisfied therein, or take it for a 
 blessing. 
 
 He therefore that is such a niggard of his time, that he 
 gradgeth to withhold any part thereof from his worldly occa- 
 sions, deeming all time cast away that is laid out in waiting 
 on God, is really most unthrifty and prodigal thereof : by not 
 sparing a little, he wasteth all his time to no purpose ; by so 
 eagerly pursuing, he effectually setteth back his designs ; by 
 preposterously afl'ecting to dispatch his affairs, he rendereth 
 them endless, or, which is the same, altogether unprofitable. 
 
 In fine, we may be sure that no time is spent even so pru- 
 dently and politicly, with so great advantage and so real fruit 
 to ourselves, as that which is employed on devotion. In sacri- 
 ficing his time, his pains, his substance, any thing he hath or 
 can do, to God's service, no man can be a loser. 
 
 We have also many examples plainly demonstrating the 
 consistency of this practice with all other business. Who ever 
 had more or greater affairs to manage, and who ever managed 
 them with greater success, than David ; on whom did lie the 
 burden of a royal estate, and the care over a most populous 
 nation ; the which ' he fed with a faithful and true heart, and 
 ruled prudently with all his power;' who waged great wars, 
 vanquished mighty enemies, achieved many glorious exploits, 
 underwent many grievous troubles ? Yet could not such 
 engagements distract or depress his mind from a constant 
 attendance on devotion. ' I will bless the Lord at all times; 
 his praise shall be continually in my mouth.' ' My mouth shall 
 show forth thy righteousness and thy salvation all the day.' ' I 
 will abide in thy tabernacle for ever.' So he declareth his 
 resolution and his practice. Who is more pressingly employed
 
 160 BARROW. — SERMON VII. 
 
 than was Daniel, first president over so vast a kingdom, chief 
 minister of state to the greatest monarch on earth ? Yet con- 
 stantly ' thrice a day did he pray and give thanks unto his 
 God.' Who can be more entangled in varieties and intricacies 
 of care, or pains, of trouble, than was he that prescribeth unto 
 us this rule of praying continually ? On him did lie * the care 
 of all the churches ; night and day with labour and toil did he 
 work' for the sustenance of his life, * that he might not' (to the 
 disparagement of the gospel) burden any man ;' perpetually he 
 was engaged in all sorts of labor and travail, ever conflicting 
 with perils, with wants, with inconveniences numberless ; yet 
 did he exactly conform his practice to his rule, being no less 
 indefatigable and incessant in his devotion than he was in his 
 business. Who ever managed a greater empire than Constan- 
 tine ? Yet ' every day,' as Eusebius reportoth, ' at stated times, 
 shutting himself up, he alone privately did converse with his 
 God.'* The most pious men indeed have never been idle or 
 careless men, but always most busy and active, most indus- 
 trious in their callings, most provident for their families, most 
 oflScious toward their friends, most ready to serve their coun- 
 try, most abundant in all good works ; yet have they always 
 been most constant in devotion. So that experience clearly 
 doth evidence, how reconcileable much devotion is to much 
 business; and that consequently the prosecution of the one 
 cannot well palliate the neglect of the other. 
 
 II. No better can any man ward himself from blame, by 
 imputing the neglect of devotion to some indisposition within 
 him thereto. For this is only to cover one fault with another, 
 or to lay on a patch more ugly than the sore. It is, in effect, 
 to say we may sin, because we have a mind to it, or care not to 
 do otherwise. Our indisposition itself is criminal ; and as 
 signifying somewhat habitual or settled, is worse than a single 
 omission ; it ought therefore to be corrected and cured ; and 
 the way to do it is, by setting presently on the practice of the 
 duty, and persisting resolutely therein ; otherwise how is it 
 possible that it should ever be removed ? The longer we for- 
 
 • Kaipois kKitrrris ^fxtpas roatrols kavrhv iyKK^luv, ft6vos ft.6uif r^ avr^ irpoff- 
 mfilKei ©eqj — Euseb. de Vita Const, iv. 22. 
 
 J
 
 THE DUTY OF PRAYER. 161 
 
 bear it, the more seldom we perform it, the stronger surely will 
 our indisposition grow, and the more diflScult it will be to 
 remove it. But if (with any degree of seriousness and good 
 intention) we come indisposed to prayer, we may thereby be 
 formed into better disposition, and by continual attendance 
 thereon, we shall (God's grace co-operating, which never is 
 wanting to serious and honest intentions) grow toward a perfect 
 fitness for it : prayer by degrees will become natural and 
 delightful to us.
 
 162 SUMMARY OF 
 
 SUMMARY OF SERMON VIII. 
 
 EPHESIANS, CHAP. V, — VERSE 20. 
 
 The words of this text may be severed from the context, 
 and considered distinctly by themselves. In them we find the 
 substance of a duty to which we are exhorted : the object 
 or term to which it is directed : the time of performance, 
 and the adequate matter of the duty, or how far it should 
 extend. These particulars are considered severally, and in 
 order. 
 
 I. Concerning the duty itself, to give thanks, or rather to 
 be thankful, as it involves a respect to benefits received, so in 
 its employment about them it requires or supposes the follow- 
 ing particulars. 
 
 1. It implies a right apprehension of, and consequently a 
 considerate attention to, benefits conferred. The method pre- 
 scribed by the psalmist, that great master of thanksgiving, 
 is, first, experimental notice, then wise consideration, then 
 grateful sense, then public acknowlegement : this topic en- 
 larged on. 
 
 2. It requires a faithful retention of benefits in the me- 
 mory, and consequently frequent reflexions on them ; for he 
 that is no longer affected by a benefit than it affects the senses, 
 and suffers not itself to be disregarded, is very far from being 
 grateful. Instance of ingratitude in this respect shovm by the 
 Jews : a contrary one by that great pattern of gratitude the 
 royal prophet: this subject enlarged on. 
 
 3. This duty implies a due esteem and valuation of bene- 
 
 i
 
 SERMON VIII. 163 
 
 fits ; that the nature and quality, the measure and quantity, 
 the circumstances and consequences of them be well considered ; 
 else the gratitude is like to be none, or very defective. Excel- 
 lent example of David in this respect. We ought diligently 
 to survey and judiciously to estimate the effects of divine bene- 
 ficence, like those who contemplate some rare beauty or some 
 excellent picture ; these commending the exact proportions, 
 those the graceful features, others the lively colors discernible 
 therein. 
 
 4. Giving thanks imports that benefits be received with 
 willing mind, hearty sense, and vehement affection ; a cheer- 
 ful and cordial acceptance of them being, as it were, the 
 life and spirit, the principal and most essential ingredient 
 of the duty. Dictate of the Stoics on this point, though it 
 went for a paradox, was not unreasonable : the topic en- 
 larged on. 
 
 5. This duty farther requires due acknowlegement of our 
 obligation, significations of our notice, declarations of our 
 esteem, and good acceptance of favors conferred. The most 
 detestable ingratitude is that which proceeds from pride and 
 scorn ; and such is he guilty of, who is unwilling or ashamed 
 to confess himself obliged ; who purposely dissembles a benefit, 
 or disavows the benefactor. Surely the least homage we can 
 pay to Almighty God, is to avow our dependence on him for 
 the good things we enjoy, and to proclaim to the world our 
 experience of his goodness. Example of the psalmist. If a 
 grateful affection lives in our hearts, it will respire through 
 our mouths. Gratitude is of a fruitful and diffusive nature, 
 free and communicative ; its best instrument therefore is 
 speech: we may also consider that it has been the manner 
 prompted by nature, and authorised by general practice, by 
 men of all nations and all times, to express their gratitude for 
 the gifts of Providence by composed hymns and panegyrical 
 eulogies.
 
 164 SUMMARY OF 
 
 6. Moreover, this duty requires endeavors after real com- 
 pensation, and a satisfactory requital of benefits, according to 
 the ability and opportunity of the receiver. It is true our 
 righteousness (or beneficence) doth not extend unto God: his 
 benefits exceed all possibility of a proportionable requital. 
 We cannot enrich him veith our gifts, nor advance him by our 
 commendations ; but we may by apposite significations declare 
 our v^illingness to serve him ; by our demeanour we may please 
 him ; by our charity to those whose good he tenders, we may 
 yield an acceptable, though not an adequate return to his bene- 
 fits. We may also acknowlege his rightful title to all that he 
 bestows on us, by expressions of our fealty, and by payment of 
 some though an inconsiderable quit-rent for the possessions 
 derived from him. Thou shalt not appear empty before the 
 Lord, was a statute prescribed to the Jews. Neither did the 
 Gentiles conceive themselves exempted from the like obliga- 
 tion : and though we are now freed perhaps from the circum- 
 stantial manner, yet in nowise are we freed from the substan- 
 tial performance of this sort of giatitude. Especially our cha- 
 rity and beneficence towards good men his servants, our succor 
 and help to persons in distress, are accounted by God a 
 suitable return for his kindness. 
 
 7. Lastly, true gratitude for benefits is always attended 
 with the esteem, veneration, and love of the benefactor. Be- 
 neficence is a royal and godlike thing, an argument of eminent 
 goodness and power conspiring together : and necessarily there- 
 fore as in them that perceive and duly consider it, it begets re- 
 spect and reverence ; so peculiarly in those that feel its benign 
 influence, it produces love and affection, engaging them in 
 mutual correspondence to an extraordinary esteem and bene- 
 volence. Example of David. 
 
 II. The nature and substance of this duty having been ex- 
 plained, the object and term to which it is to be directed, next 
 calls our attention.
 
 SERMON VIII. 165 
 
 We are to give thanks to God : to him unto whom we are 
 obliged, not for some small inconsiderable trifles, but for the 
 most weighty and valuable benefits : to him who is the Lord 
 and true owner of all things which we partake of: to him who 
 hath created a world to serve us, and hath made all extrin- 
 sical things subservient to souls endued with various senses, 
 faculties, and powers : to him who hath inspired us with im- 
 mortal mind, and impressed on them perspicuous characters of 
 his own divine essence : to him who vouchsafes to grant us a 
 free access unto, a constant intercourse with, himself; who 
 invites us to a spiritual feast, and styles us friends and children. 
 Is there any thing more than this ? Yes : to him, who, that he 
 might redeem us from misery and advance our estate, conde- 
 scended to debase himself and eclipse the brightness of his 
 glorious majesty ; who not only thus descended, but designed 
 thereby to exalt us to a participation of his royal dignity : to 
 him who did all this without any necessity, most willingly, 
 and who out of pure bounty is our friend and benefactor ; pre- 
 venting not only our desires, but our knowlege ; surpassing 
 not our deserts only, but our wishes : to him who did not 
 lately begin, and will not suddenly cease ; who is neither un- 
 certain nor mutable in his intentions : to him whom no ingra- 
 titude or disobedience of ours can divert from his steady purpose ; 
 who is as merciful and gracious as he is liberal and munificent; 
 not only bestowing on us innumerable gifts, but pardoning our 
 innumerable ofl^'ences : to him, who, as St. James saith, giveth 
 freely and upbraideth no man, exacting no impossible or bur- 
 thensome returns to him, whose benefits to acknowlege is the 
 greatest benefit of all, to celebrate whose praise is the supreme 
 degree of felicity: in a word, to him whose benefits are im- 
 mensely great, innumerably many, inexpressibly good and 
 precious. To this God, to this great, this only benefactor, we 
 owe this most natural and easy, this most just and equal, this
 
 166 SUMMARY OF SERMON VIII. 
 
 most sweet and pleasant duty of giving thanks ; which if we 
 wilfully refuse or carelessly neglect to pay, we are not only 
 monstrously ungrateful and wicked, but deplorably foolish and 
 miserable. The time determined in the word always is reserved 
 for the next discourse.
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 167 
 
 SERMON VIII. 
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 
 
 EPHESIANS, CHAP. V. — VERSE 20. 
 
 Giving thanks always for all things unto God. 
 
 These words, although (as the very syntax doth immediately 
 discover) they bear a relation to, and have a fit coherence with 
 those that precede, may yet, (especially considering St. Paul's 
 style and manner of expression in the preceptive and exhorta- 
 tive part of his epistles,) without any violence or prejudice on 
 either hand, be severed from the context, and considered dis- 
 tinctly by themselves. And (to avoid incumbrance by farther 
 comparison) so taking them we may observe that every single 
 word among them carries with it something of notable emphasis 
 and especial significancy. The first [' giving thanks'] expresses 
 the substance of a duty, to which we are exhorted. The next 
 (I mean in order of construction) [• to God'] denotes the object 
 or term to which it is directed. The following [' always'] de- 
 termines the main circumstance of this and all other duties, the 
 time of performance. The last [' for all things '] declares the 
 adequate matter of the duty, and how far it. should extend. 
 These particulars! shall consider severally and in order. 
 . I. First then, concerning the duty itself, ' to give thanks,' 
 or rather, ' to be thankful ;' (for evxnpnTrelv doth not only signify 
 gratias agere, reddere, dicere, to ' give,' ' render,' or ' declare 
 thanks,' but also gratias habere, grate affectum esse, to be 
 * thankfully disposed,' to entertain a grateful affection, sense 
 or memory ; in which more comprehensive notion I mean to
 
 168 BARROW. — SERMON VIII. 
 
 consider it, as including the whole duty or virtue of gratitude 
 due to Almighty God for all his benefits, favors, and mercies ;) 
 I say, concerning this duty itself, (abstractedly considered,) as 
 it involves a respect to benefits or good things received ; so in its 
 employment about them it imports, requires, or supposes these 
 following particulars. 
 
 1. It implies a right apprehension of, and consequently a 
 considerate attention unto, benefits conferred. For he that is 
 either wholly ignorant of his obligations, or mistakes them, or 
 passes them over with a slight and superficial view, can nowise 
 be grateful. ' Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, 
 even they shall understand the loving-kindness of the Lord.' 
 ' Men shall fear, and shall declare the work of God ; for they 
 shall wisely consider of his doings.' ' The works of the Lord are 
 great, sought out of all that have pleasure therein.' ' O taste 
 (first, and then) see that the Lord is good.' 
 
 This is the method that great master of thanksgiving pre- 
 scribes ; first experimental notice, then wise consideration, then 
 grateful sense, then public acknowlegement. And those we 
 find both by him and by the Prophet Isaias (in the very same 
 words) reprehended as wickedly ingrateful persons, who ' re- 
 garded not the work of the Lord, nor considered the operation 
 of his hands.' 'Tis part therefore of this duty incumbent on 
 us, to take notice of diligently and carefully to consider the 
 divine benefits ; not to let them pass undiscerned and unre- 
 garded by us, as persons either wofully blind, or stupidly 
 drowsy, or totally unconcerned. 
 
 'Tis a general fault that the most common and frequent, the 
 most obvious and conspicuous favors of God, (like the ordinarv- 
 phenomena of nature, which, as Aristotle observes, though in 
 themselves most admirable, are yet least admired,) the constant 
 rising of the sun on us, the descent of fruitful showers, the re- 
 course of temperate seasons, the continuance of our life, the 
 enjoyment of health, the providential dispensation of wealth, 
 and competent means of livelihood, the daily protection from 
 incident dangers, the helps of improving knowlege, obtaining 
 virtue, becoming happy, and such like most excellent benefits, 
 we commonly little mind or regard, and consequently seldom 
 return the thanks due for them. Possibly some rare accidents 
 
 A
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 169 
 
 of providence, some extraordinary judgment, some miraculous 
 deliverance, may rouse and awaken our attention : (as it is said 
 of the Israelites, ' when he slew them, then they sought him — 
 and remembered that God was their rock, and the high God 
 their Redeemer :') but such advertency is not the effect so much 
 of gratitude as of curiosity or of necessity : the notable rarity 
 invites, or some powerful impulse commands our notice. But 
 the truly grateful industriously design, and are studious to know 
 throughly their obligations, that they may be able to render 
 answerable returns for them. 
 
 2. This duty requires a faithful retention of benefits in me- 
 mory, and consequently frequent reflexions on them. For he 
 that is no longer affected with a benefit than it incurs the 
 sense, and suffers not itself to be disregarded, is far from being 
 grateful ; nay, if we believe the philosopher, is ingrateful in 
 the worst kind and highest degree. For, ingratus est, saith he, 
 (Seneca,) qui heneficium accepisse se negat, quod accepit ; ingra- 
 tus est, qui dissimulat ; ingratus, qui non reddit : ingratissimus 
 omnium, qui ohlitus est. ' He that falsely denies the recep- 
 tion of a benefit, and he that dissembles it, and he that doth 
 not repay it, is ingrateful ; but most ingrateful of all is he that 
 forgets it.' It is a sign the benefit made no deep impression on 
 his mind, since it left no discernible footstep there ; that he 
 hardly ever thought of making recompense, since he hath suf- 
 fered himself to become altogether uncapable of doing it : nei- 
 ther is there any hope of his amending the past neglect; no 
 shame, no repentance, no fair occasion can redeem him from 
 ingratitude, in whom the very remembrance of his obligation is 
 extinguished. 
 
 If to be sensible of a present good turn deserved the title of 
 I gratitude, all men certainly would be grateful : the Jews ques- 
 I tionless were so. When Almighty God, by his wonderful 
 i power in extraordinary ways, delivered them from the tyranny 
 3 and oppression of their prevalent enemies ; when he caused 
 I, streams to gush forth from the bowels of a hard rock to refresh 
 : their thirst ; when bread descended from heaven in showers, 
 and the winds were winged with flesh, to satisfy their greedy de- 
 sires ; then surely they were not altogether unsensible of the 
 divine goodness ; then could they acknowlege his power, and 
 
 BAR. VOL. I. H
 
 170 BARROW. — SERMON VIII. 
 
 be forward enough to engage themselves in promises of corre- 
 spondent observance toward him for the future. But the mis- 
 chief was, immediately after, as the psalmist complains, * they 
 forgat his works, and the wonders he had showed them :' ' they 
 remembered not his hand, nor the day when he delivered them 
 from the enemy.' They ' refused to obey, neither were mindful 
 of the wonders that God did among them,' as Nehemiah con- 
 fesses in their behalf. ' Of the rock that begat them they were 
 unmindful, and forgot the God that formed them,' as it is in 
 Deuteronomy. They distrusted his promises, repined at his 
 dealings, disobeyed his laws, and treacherously apostatised 
 from his covenant. Such were the fruits of their ingrateful 
 forgetfuliiess ; which therefore that people is so often charged 
 with, and so sharply reproved for by the prophets. 
 
 On the contrary, we find that great pattern of gratitude, the 
 royal prophet David, continually revolving in his thoughts, 
 imprinting on his fancy, studying and meditating on, recollect- 
 ing and renewing in his memory, the results of divine favor. 
 ' I will remember,' saith he, ' thy wonders of old ; I will medi- 
 tate of all thy works, and talk of thy doings :' and, ' I remember 
 the days of old ; I will meditate on all thy works ; I muse on 
 the works of thy hands :' and, ' Bless the Lord, O my soul, 
 and forget not all his benefits :' and, ' My mouth shall praise 
 thee with joyful lips, when I remember thee on my bed, and 
 meditate on thee in the night-watches, because thou hast been 
 my help.' No place unfit, it seems, no time unseasonable for 
 the practice of this duty; not the place designed for rest, not 
 the time due to sleep, but, as David thought, more due to a 
 wakeful contemplation of the divine goodness. Whose vigilant 
 gratitude we should strive to imitate, devoting our most solitary 
 and retired, our most sad and serious thoughts (not the studies 
 only of our closet, but the consultations also of our pillow) to 
 the preservation of those blessed ideas ; that neither length of 
 time may deface them in our fancy, nor other care thrust them 
 out thence. 
 
 It was a satirical answer, (that of Aristotle,) and highly 
 opprobrious to mankind; who, bei g asked, Tl Tct^KTrov yn- 
 pAfTKei; 'What doth the soonest grow old?' replied, Xapis, 
 ' Thanks :' and so was that adagial verse, "Af* ?)\e»jrai, Kal
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 171 
 
 reOvrjKev fj xnpcs' ' No sooner the courtesy born, than the re- 
 sentment thereof dead.' Such reproachful aphorisms we should 
 labor to confute, especially as they are applicable to the divine 
 favors, by so maintaining and cherishing our thanks for them, 
 that they neither decay with age, nor prematurely die, nor be 
 buried in oblivion ; but may lesemble the pictures and poetical 
 descriptions of the Graces, those goodly daughters of heaven, 
 smiling always with a never-fading serenity of countenance, 
 and florishing in an immortal youth. 
 
 The middle, we may observe, and the safest, and the fairest, 
 and the most conspicuous places in cities are usually deputed 
 for the erections of statues and monuments dedicated to the 
 memory of worthy men, who have nobly deserved of their 
 countries. In like manner should we in the heart and centre 
 of our soul, in the best and highest apartments thereof, in the 
 places most exposed to ordinary observation, and most secure 
 from the invasions of worldly care, erect lively representations 
 of, and lasting memorials unto, the divine bounty; constantly 
 attending to which we may be disposed to gratitude. Not one 
 blessing, not the least favorable passage of providence ought to 
 perish with us, though long since past, and removed out of the 
 sphere of present sense. 
 
 We must not in our old age forget who formed us in the 
 womb, who brought us into the light, who suckled our infancy, 
 who educated our childhood, who governed our youth, who 
 conducted our manhood through the manifold hazards, troubles, 
 and disasters of life. Nor in our prosperity, our affluence of 
 good things, our possession of Canaan, should we be unmindful 
 of him who relieved us in our straits, who supplied our wants, 
 sustained our adversity, who redeemed us from Egypt, and led 
 us through the wilderness. A succession of new and fresh 
 benefits should not (as among some savages the manner is for 
 the young to make away the old) supplant and expunge an- 
 cient ones, but make them rather more dear and venerable to 
 us. Time should not weaken or diminish, but rather confirm 
 and radicate in us the remembrance of God's goodness; to 
 render it, as it doth gold and wine, more precious and more 
 strong. "We have usually a memory more than enough tena- 
 cious of injuries and ill turns done to us : let it never be said,
 
 172 BARROW. — SERMON VIII. 
 
 to the disgrace of that noble faculty, that we can hardly forget 
 the discourtesies of man, but not easily remember the favors o^ 
 God. But farther, 
 
 3. This duty implies a due esteem and valuation of benefits ; 
 that the nature and quality, the measure and quantity, the cir- 
 cumstances and consequences of them be well expended ; else 
 the gratitude is like to be none, or very defective. For we 
 commensurate our thankfulness, not so much to the intrinsic 
 excellency of things, as to our peculiar estimations of them. 
 A cynic perhaps would not return more thanks for a diamond 
 than for a pebble ; nor more gratefully receive a talent of gold 
 than an ounce of copper ; because he equally values, or rather 
 alike contemns both. 
 
 Wherefore we find our (never-to-be-forgotten) example, the 
 devout thanksgiver, David, continually declaring the great 
 price he set on the divine favors ; admiring and displaying their 
 transcendent perfections, their wonderful greatness, their bound- 
 less extension, their excessive multitude, their endless duration, 
 their advantageous circumstances, (the excellent needfulness, 
 convenience, and seasonableness of them ; together with the 
 admirable freeness, wisdom, and power of the Benefactor, 
 shining forth iu and by them.) ' I will praise thee, O Lord,' 
 saith he, ' among the people, I will sing unto thee among the 
 nations : for thy mercy is great unto the heavens, and thy 
 faithfulness reacheth unto the clouds.' And, ' Remember 
 the marvellous works that he hath done, his wonders, and the 
 judgments of his mouth.' ' He is the Lord our God, his judg- 
 ments are in all the earth.' And again, ' Thy mercy, O Lord, 
 is in the heavens, thy faithfulness reacheth unto the clouds. 
 Thy righteousness is like the great mountains ; thyjudgments 
 are a great deep : O Lord, thou preservest man and beast.' 
 ' How excellent is thy loving-kindness, O God !' and, ' How 
 precious are thy thoughts unto me, O Lord ! O how great is 
 the sum of them ! If I should count them, they are more in 
 number than the sand.' And again, ' His work is honorable 
 and glorious, his righteousness endureth for ever :' and, ' The 
 Lord is good to all, and his tender mercies are over all his 
 works :' and, ' Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth us with 
 his benefits.'
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 173 
 
 In such manner ought we diligently to survey and judici- 
 ously to estimate the effects of divine beneficence, examining 
 every part, and descanting on every circumstance thereof : 
 like those that contemplate some rare beauty, or some excel- 
 lent picture; some commending the exact proportions, some 
 the graceful features, some the lively colors discernible therein. 
 There is not the least of the divine favors, vfhich, if we consi- 
 der the condescensive tenderness, the clear intention, the unde- 
 served frankness, the cheerful debonairity expressed therein, 
 hath not dimensions larger than our comprehension, colors too 
 fair, and lineaments too comely for our weak sight thoroughly 
 to discern ; requiring therefore our highest esteem and our 
 utmost thanks. 
 
 'Tis perhaps somewhat dangerous to affix a determinate value 
 on any of God's benefits : (for to value them seems to under- 
 value them, they being really inestimable :) what then is it to 
 extenuate, to vilify, to despise the greatest? We should esteem 
 them, as we measure the heavens with our eye, as we compute 
 the sands on the shore, as we would prize inexhaustible mines 
 of gold, and treasures of pearl ; that is, by confessing heartily 
 their worth surpasses the strength of our imagination to con- 
 ceive, and of our speech to utter ; that they are immense, 
 innumerable, unconceivable, and unexpressible. But still, 
 
 4. * Giving thanks' imports that benefits be received with a 
 willing mind, a hearty sense, a vehement affection. The fore- 
 mentioned particulars are indeed necessary properties, insepa- 
 rable concomitants, or prerequisite conditions to : but a cheerful 
 and cordial acceptance of benefits is the form, as it were, and 
 soul, the life and spirit, the principal and most essential ingre- 
 dient of this duty. 
 
 It was not altogether unreasonable, though it went for a 
 paradox, that dictate of the Stoics, that animus sufficit animo, 
 and, that qui libenter accepit, beneficium reddidit: that he, 
 who with a willing and well affected mind receives a courtesy, 
 hath fully discharged the duty of gratitude ; that other endea- 
 vors of return and compensation are rather handsome accessions 
 to it, than indispensably requisite to the completion thereof. For 
 as in the collation, it is not the gold or the silver, the food or 
 the apparel, in which the benefit consists, but the will and be-
 
 174 BARROW. — SERMON VIII. 
 
 nevolent intention of him that bestows them ; so reciprocally 
 it is the good acceptance, the sensibleness of and acquiescence 
 in the benefactor's goodness, that constitutes the gratitude ; 
 which who affords, though he be never capable of yielding 
 other satisfaction, voluntate voluntati satisfecit ; and, regum 
 cequavit opes animo — . It is ingenuity that constitutes (respec- 
 tively) both a bountiful giver and a thankful receiver. A truly 
 noble benefactor purely aimeth at not any material reward, or 
 advantage to himself; (it were trading this, not beneficence;) 
 but the good profit and content of him, to whom he dispenseth 
 his favor : of which being assured, he rests satisfied, and ac- 
 counts himself royally recompensed.* 
 
 Such a benefactor is Almighty God, and such a tribute he 
 requires of us ; a ready embracement of and a joyful compla- 
 cency in his kindness; even such as he expressed, who said, 
 ' Because thy loving-kindness is better than life, my lips shall 
 praise thee :' and, ' My soul shall be filled as with marrow and 
 fatness, and my mouth shall praise thee with joyful lips :' and, 
 ' I will praise thee with my whole heart ; I will be glad and 
 rejoice in thee:' and, ' Bless the Lord, O my soul; and all 
 that is within me, praise his holy name.' 
 
 No holocaust is so acceptable to God, as a heart inflamed 
 with the sense of his goodness. He loves not only iXapov borrjv 
 (a merry giver,) but iXapby beKrrjv (a cheerful receiver) also. 
 He would have us, as to desire his favor with a greedy appetite, 
 so to taste it with a savory relish. He designs not only to ' fill' 
 our mouths with ' food,' ' but our hearts' also ' with gladness/ 
 
 We must not seem to grudge or repine, to murmur or dis- 
 dain, that we are necessitated to be beholden to him; lest it 
 happen to us as it did to them of whom it is said, ' while the 
 meat was yet in their mouths, the WTath of God came on them, 
 and slew the fattest of them.' Yea, 'tis our duty not to be 
 
 * Quoties quod proposuit quis consequitnr, capit operis sui fruc- 
 tum. Qui heneficium dat, quid propouil sibi? prodesse ci cui dat, 
 et sibi voluptati esse: non sibi iuvicem reddi vohjit ; aut non fuit 
 heneficium, sed negotiatio. Lencficii propriura est, nihil de reditu 
 cogitate. — Senec. 
 
 Nee est dubium quin is qui liberalis benignusque dicitur, officiura, 
 non fructum, sequatur. — Cic. de Leg. i.
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 175 
 
 contented only, but to be delighted, to be transported, to 
 be ravished with the emanations of his love : to enter- 
 tain them with such a disposition of mind, as the dry and 
 parched ground imbibes the soft dew and gentle showers ; as 
 the chill and darksome air admits the benign influences of hea- 
 venly light ; as the thirsty soul takes in the sweet and cooling 
 stream. He that with a sullen look, a dead heart, a faint 
 sense, a cold hand, embraces the gifts of heaven, is really un- 
 thankful, though with deluges of wine and oil he makes the 
 altars to overflow, and clouds the sky with the steam of his sa- 
 crifices. But yet, farther, 
 
 5. This duty requires due acknowlegement of our obliga- 
 tion, significations of our notice, declarations of our esteem and 
 good acceptance of favors conferred. It is the worst and most 
 detestable of ingratitudes, that which proceeds from pride and 
 scorn : andsuchisheguilty of, who is either unwilling or ashamed 
 to confess himself obliged ; who purposely dissembles a benefit, 
 or disavows a benefactor; who refuses to render those most ma- 
 nifestly due, and most* easily discharged, those neither toilsome 
 nor expensive oblations of praise and acknowlegement. This part 
 of our duty requires that we offer to God, not costly hecatombs, 
 but the ' calves' only 'of our lips, '(as the prophet Hosea speaks;) 
 not the fruit of our lands, but Kapirbv ^(^eiXewv only, (as the 
 Apostle to the Hebrews styles it,) ' the fruit of our lips, con- 
 fessing to his name;' that we employ some few blasts of the 
 breath he gave us on the celebration of his goodness, and ad- 
 vancement of his repuie. ' I will praise the name of God with 
 a song, and will magnify him with thanksgiving. This shall 
 please the Lord better than an ox or bullock that hath horns 
 and hoofs,' saith David. 
 
 And surely it is the least homage we in gratitude owe, and 
 can pay to Almighty God, to avow our dependence on an ob- 
 ligation to him for the good things we enjoy, to acknowlege 
 that his favors do deserve thanks, to publish to the world our 
 experience of his goodness, to proclaim solemnly with the 
 voice of thanksgiving his most deserved praise ; resembling 
 
 * OyBe yap $apv Tt Ko.l 4xax6iS 4m^r]Te7 Trap' rifiZv, a\\' fi rh ufio\oye7v jxo- 
 vov rhs Toaainas (iiepyiaias, koI rb.s vnip rovrwv avT<S euxnpiCTi'as ava(p4piiv. — 
 Chrjs. tom. i. 54.
 
 176 BARROW. — SERMON VIII. 
 
 him who abounds in such expressions as these : ' 1 will sing of 
 the mercies of the Lord for ever; with my mouth will I make 
 known his faithfulness to all generations.' ' I will publish with 
 the voice of thanksgiving, and tell of all his wondrous works.' 
 * I will speak of the glorious honor of thy majesty, and of thy 
 wondrous works.' ' I have not hid thy righteousness in my heart, 
 I have declared thy faithfulness and thy salvation : I have not 
 concealed thy loving-kindness and thy truth from the great 
 congregation.' 
 
 Thus if a grateful affection live in our hearts, it will respire 
 through our mouths, and discover itself in the motion of our 
 lips. There will be a conspiracy and faithful correspondence 
 between our mind and our tongue : if the one be sensible, the 
 other will not be silent ; as if the spring works, the wheels will 
 turn about, and the bell not fail to speak. Neither shall we 
 content ourselves in lonesome tunes and private soliloquies, 
 to whisper out the divine praises ; but shall loudly excite and 
 provoke others to a melodious consonance with us. We shall, 
 with the sweet singer of Israel, cite and invoke heaven and 
 earth ; the celestial choir of angels ; the several estates and 
 generations of men, the numberless company of all the crea- 
 tures, to assist and join in concert with us, in celebrating the 
 worthy deeds, and magnifying the glorious name of our most 
 mighty Creator, of our most bountiful Benefactor. 
 
 Gratitude is of a fruitful and diffusive nature, of a free and 
 communicative disposition, of an open and sociable temper: it 
 will be imparting, discovering, and propagating itself: it affects 
 light, company, and liberty; it cannot endure to be smothered 
 in privacy and obscurity. Its best instrument therefore is 
 speech, that most natural, proper, and easy mean of conversa- 
 tion, of signifying our conceptions, of conveying, and as it were 
 transfunding our thoughts and passions into each other.* This 
 therefore glory of ours, and best organ that we have, (as the 
 psalmist seems to call it,) our tongue, we should in all reason 
 devote to the honor, and consecrate to the praise of him who 
 made it, and who conserves it still in tune. 
 
 And, the farther to provoke us, we may consider that it 
 
 * ^uxh 7"Pt oJixai, <("'XP ''"' '"'''fvfjia irveufxaTi (TwaTrrSfieva Karck rifv rod \6- 
 yov fftropav,&LC. — Clem. Alex. Strom, i. p. 270.
 
 THE Di^tY OF Thanksgiving. Ill 
 
 hath been the manner prompted by nature, and authorised by 
 general practice, for men of all nations, and all times, and all 
 ways, by composed hymns and panegyrical elogies, to express 
 their gratitude for the gifts of nature, and for the benefits in- 
 dulged by Providence ; in their public sacrifices and solemn 
 festivities extolling the excellent qualities of their imaginary 
 deities, and reciting the famous achievements of their heroes 
 and supposed benefactors : to whose favorable help and bles- 
 sing, in their conceit, they owed the fruits of the earth, the. 
 comforts of life, the defence and patronage of their countries : 
 being indeed mistaken in the object, but not transgiessing in 
 the substance of the duty ; paying a due debt, though to false 
 creditors. And I wish we were as ready to imitate them in 
 the one, as we are, perhaps, prone to blame them for the other. 
 For, certainly, acknowlegements of the divine goodness, and 
 solemn testifications of our thankful sense thereof, (whatever 
 the abused world may now imagine,) was always, is now, and 
 ever will be the principal and most noble part of all religion 
 immediately addressed to God. But moreover, 
 
 6. This duty requires endeavors of real compensation, and 
 a satisfactory requital of benefits, according to the ability 
 and opportunity of the receiver : that we do not only verbally 
 dicere, and agnoscere ; but really agere, and referre gratias : 
 that to him, who hath by his beneficence obliged us, we mi- 
 nister reciprocal assistance, comfort, and relief, if he need 
 them, and be capable to receive them ; however, by evident 
 testimonies to discover our ready disposition to make such real 
 returns ; and withal to suit our actions to his good liking, and 
 in our carriage to comply with his reasonable desires. For, 
 ' as the earth which drinketh the rain often coming on it,' and 
 having been by great labor tilled and manured with expense, 
 yieldeth yet no ' meet herbage' or ' fruit agreeable to the ex- 
 pectation of him that dresseth it,' but is either wholly barren, 
 or produceth only * thorns and briars,' is (as the Apostle to 
 the Hebrews tells us) ' to be reprobated, and nigh unto curs- 
 ing ;' that is, deserves no farther care or culture to be employed 
 on it, and is to be reputed desperately worthless : so is he, 
 (that we may apply an ayodosis to the Apostle's comparison,)
 
 178 BARROW. — SERMON VIll. 
 
 who, daily partaking the influences of divine providence and 
 bounty, affords no answerable return, to be accounted exe- 
 crably unthankful, and unworthy of any farther favor to be 
 showed toward him. 
 
 Tis true, our ' righteousness' (or ' beneficence,' so the word 
 there signifies) ' doth not extend unto God :' his benefits ex- 
 ceed all possibility of any proportionable requital : he doth not 
 need, nor can ever immediately receive any advantage from us : 
 we cannot enrich him with our gifts, who by unquestionable 
 right, and in unalterable possession, is Lord and Master of all 
 things that do actually or can possibly exist ; nor advance him 
 by our weak commendations, who already enjoyeth the supreme 
 pitch of glory ; nor any way contribute to his in itself complete 
 and indefectible beatitude. Yet we may by apposite signifi- 
 cations declare our willingness to serve and exalt him : we 
 may by our obsequious demeanor highly please and content 
 him : we may, by our charity and benignity to those whose 
 good he tenders, yield (though not an adequate, yet) an ac- 
 ceptable return to his benefits. ' What shall I render unto the 
 Lord for all his benefits ?' saith David, in way of counsel and 
 deliberation : and thereon resolves, ' I will take the cup of 
 salvation, and call on the name of the Lord : I will pay my 
 vows unto the Lord.' Seasonable benedictions, officious ad- 
 dresses, and faithful performances of vows, he intimates to bear 
 some shadow at least, some resemblance of compensation. 
 And so did his wise son likewise, when he thus advised, 
 ' Honor the Lord with thy substance, and with the first-fruits 
 of thy increase.' 
 
 Almighty God, though he really doth, and cannot otherwise 
 do, yet will not seem to bestow his favors altogether gratis, 
 but to expect some competent return, some small use and 
 income from them. He will assert his rightful title, and be 
 acknowleged the chief proprietary, by signal expressions of our 
 fealty, and the payment of some though inconsiderable quit- 
 rent, for our possessions derived from him : he will rather 
 himself be seemingly indigent, than permit us to be really in- 
 grateful. For knowing well that our performance of duty and 
 respect toward him greatly conduceth to our comfort and hap-
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 170 
 
 piness,* he requireth of us such demonstrations of them, as we 
 conveniently are able to exhibit ; he appoints services expres- 
 sive of thankfulness, exacts tributes and customs, demands 
 loans and benevolences, encourages and accepts free-will 
 offerings from us. ' Thou shalt not appear empty before the 
 Lord,' was a statute to the Jews, qualified and moderated by 
 certain measures : the first-fruits of their lands, the first-born 
 of their cattle and of themselves, the tenths of their annual in- 
 crease, and a certain allotment from the spoils acquired in 
 wars, did God challenge to himself, as fitting recompenses due 
 for his bounty to and care over them. 
 
 Neither did the Gentiles conceive themselves exempted from 
 the like obligation. For the aKpodivia, the ' top' or ' chief of their 
 corn heaps,' they were wont to consecrate unto him who had 
 blessed their fields with increase; and the ciKpoXeia, 'the first 
 and best of the prey,' they dedicated to the adornment of his 
 temple by whose favorable disposal they had obtained the 
 victory. Neither would they sooner begin their meal, and 
 partake of their necessary refreshment, than, by pouring forth 
 their gratulatory libation, they had performed some homage to 
 heaven for it. 
 
 • ou5e T(s ctAt/ 
 
 ripii/ irihiv, irplv Ai7\l/ai virep/jLevei Kpovlwvijf 
 
 was the custom, it seems, in Homer's time. T shall not insist 
 on their uyadfjfxara, their anniversary or their casual sacrifices ; 
 but only observe, (what, if seasonable, might by many sufficient 
 testimonies be evinced,) that those men (at least the most 
 intelligent of them) were not so senseless as to imagine that 
 the gods, to whom they performed those services, and devoted 
 those oblations, did any wise need, or were truly benefited by 
 them ; but that they esteemed it a comely thing, by the most 
 significant means they could invent, to declare their grateful 
 sense of the divine goodness and indulgence toward them.:|: 
 
 * 'AirijpoTos yap avrov t) oMa koI avfvBe^s oZcra, ovSevos erepov TrpocrdeTTar 
 ol Se alvovvres avTuy, aurol \aiJ.-!rp6Tepoi yivovTai. — S, Chrys. in Ps. cxiiv. 
 p. 885. Savil. 
 
 t Horn. II. H. ad finem. 
 
 t Vid. Platoiiis Aloib. ii. 0'!i yap, oZjuat, toiovtSp icni rh tmu QiwP, uxrre 
 vTrh Suipiav TrapdyiaOai, olov KaKuv ruKunriv, &c.
 
 180 BARROW, — SERMON VIII. 
 
 And though we are, perhaps, disobliged now from the cir- 
 cumstantial manner, yet are we no wise freed from (but rather 
 more strongly engaged to) the substantial performance of this 
 sort of gratitude. We are to offer still, not dead ' bulls and 
 goats,' but, as St. Paul saith, ' our own bodies, living sacri- 
 fices, holy and acceptable to God.' We are excused from 
 material, but are yet bound to yield TrvevfiariKcts Qvaias, ' spi- 
 ritual sacrifices' unto God, as St. Peter tells us. We must 
 burn incense still, that of fervent devotion ; and send up con- 
 tinually to heaven dvaiav -rjs alveaews, that ' thank-offering of 
 praise,' which the Apostle to the Hebrews mentions. We 
 must consecrate the first-born of our souls, (pure and holy 
 thoughts,) and the first-fruits of our strength, (our most active 
 endeavors,) to God's service. We must slay our impure desires, 
 mortify our corrupt affections, and abandon our selfish respects 
 for his sake. We must give him our hearts, and present our 
 wills intirely to his disposal. We must vow to him, and pay 
 the daily oblation of sincere obedience. We must oflSciously 
 attend his pleasure, and labor to content him by an innocent 
 and unblemished conversation. With these things Almighty 
 God is effectually gratified ; he approves of and accepts these, 
 as real testimonies of our thankfulness, and competent returns 
 of his benefits. 
 
 Especially our charity and beneficence, our exhibiting love 
 and respect to good men, (his faithful servants and near rela- 
 tions,) our affording help and succor to persons in need and dis- 
 tress, he accounts a suitable retaliation of his kindness, acknow- 
 leges to be an obligation laid on himself, and hath by settled 
 rules and indispensable promises obliged himself to requite 
 them. For, ' He that hath pity on the poor, lendeth unto 
 the Lord ; and that which he hath given, he will pay him 
 again :' and, ' God is not unrighteous, to forget your work 
 and labor of love, which ye have showed toward his name, in 
 that ye have ministered to the saints, and do minister :' and, 
 ' To do good and to communicate, forget not; for with such 
 sacrifices God is well pleased :' and, ' I desire fruit,' saith St. 
 Paul to the Philippians, ' that may abound to your account. 
 But I have all, and abound; I am full, having received of 
 Epaphroditus the things which were sent from you, an odor of
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. > 181 
 
 a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, well pleasing to God.' 
 And, • Inasmuch as ye have done it to (that is, fed, and 
 clothed, and comforted) the least of these my brethren, ye 
 have done it unto me,' saith our Saviour; manifestly declaring; 
 that the good we do, and the respect we show unto good and 
 needy men, God reckons it done unto himself. 
 
 And this point I shall conclude with the sayings of the wise 
 Hebrew philosopher Ben-Sirach, ' He that keepeth the law, 
 bringeth offerings enough : He that taketh heed to the com- 
 mandment, offereth a peace-offering. He that requiteth a good 
 turn, offereth fine flower : and he that giveth alms, sacrificeth 
 praise. To depart from wickedness is a thing pleasing to the 
 Lord : and to forsake unrighteousness, is a propitiation.' To 
 these I shall only add this one particular : 
 
 7. That true gratitude for benefits is always attended with 
 the esteem, veneration, and love of the benefactor. Beneficence 
 is a royal and godlike thing, an argument of eminent goodness 
 and power conspiring ; and necessarily therefore, as in them 
 that perceive and duly consider it, it begets respect and reve- 
 rence ; so peculiarly in those that feel its benign influence, it 
 produces love and affection : like the heavenly light, which to 
 all that behold it appears glorious ; but more powerfully warms 
 those that are directly subject to its rays, and is by them more 
 vigorously reflected. 
 
 And as to those that are immediately concerned therein, it 
 imports more particular regard and good-will ; so, if they be 
 duly sensible thereof, it engages them in mutual correspon- 
 dence to an extraordinary esteem and benevolence : such as 
 David on this account professes to have been in himself to- 
 ward God, and frequently excites others to. ' I will love thee, 
 O Lord my strength.' ' I will call on the Lord, who is worthy to 
 be praised.' ' The Lord liveth, and blessed be my rock ; and 
 let the God of my salvation be exalted.' * I love the Lord, 
 because he hath heard my voice and my supplications.' And, 
 (in the Gospel,) ' Because her sins, being many, were forgiven, 
 therefore she loved much.' So true it is, that sense of favor 
 indulged is naturally productive of love.* 
 
 * "Ecrriu xop's y^p tV X'^P^" tIktov(t aei. — Soph.
 
 182 * BARROW. — SERMON VIII. 
 
 Thus have I plainly and simply presented you with what my 
 meditations suggested concerning the nature and substance of 
 this duty, with the several branches sprouting from the main 
 stock thereof : I proceed now to that which will exceedingly 
 inlarge the worth, and engage to the performance thereof. 
 
 II. The object and term to which it is to be directed ; we 
 are to give thanks ' to God.' ' To God,' I say ; that is, to 
 him, unto whom we are obliged, not for some small and incon- 
 siderable trifles, but for the most weighty and valuable bene- 
 fits : from whom we receive, not few or some, but all good 
 things ; whatever is necessary for our sustenance, convenient 
 for our use, pleasant for our enjoyment; not only those that 
 come immediately from his hand, but what we obtain from 
 others, who from him receive both the will and the power, the 
 means and the opportunities of doing us good : to whom we owe, 
 not only what we ever did or do at present possess, or can here- 
 after hope for of good ; but that we were, are, or shall ever be 
 in capacity to receive any : to the author, upholder, and pre- 
 server of our being ; without whose goodness we had never 
 been, and without whose care we cannot subsist one mo- 
 ment. 
 
 To him who is the Lord and true owner of all things we 
 partake of; whose air we breathe, whose ground we tread 
 on, whose food sustains us ; whose wholly we are ourselves, 
 both the bodies we carry about us, (which is ' the work of his 
 hands,') and the soul we think with, which was breathed from 
 his mouth. 
 
 To him who hath created a whole world to serve us, a 
 spacious, a beautiful, a stately world for us to inhabit and to 
 disport in ; who hath subjected so fair a territory to our domi- 
 nion, and consigned to our use so numerous a progeny of goodly 
 creatures, to be managed, to be governed, to be enjoyed by us. 
 
 So that wherever we direct our eyes, whether we reflect them 
 inward on ourselves, we behold his goodness to occupy and 
 penetrate the very root and centre of our beings ; or extend 
 them abroad toward the things about us, we may perceive our- 
 selves inclosed wholly, and surrounded with his benefits. At 
 home we find a comely body framed by his curious artifice, va- 
 rious organs fitly proportioned, situated, and tempered for
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 1&3 
 
 strength, ornament, and motion, actuated by a gentle heat, and 
 invigorated with lively spirits, disposed to health, aad qualified 
 for a long endurance ; subservient to a soul endued with divers 
 senses, faculties, and powers, apt to inquire after, pursue, and 
 perceive various delights and contents. To the satisfaction of 
 which all extrinsical things do minister matter and help ; by his 
 kind disposal who furnishes our palates with variety of deli- 
 cious fare, entertains our eyes with pleasant spectacles, ravishes 
 our ears with harmonious sounds, perfumes our nostrils with 
 fragrant odors, cheers our spirits with comfortable gales, * fills 
 our hearts with food and gladness,' supplies our manifold needs, 
 and protects us from innumerable dangers. 
 
 To him who hath inspired us with immortal minds, and 
 impressed on them perspicuous characters of his own divine 
 essence ; hath made us, not in some superficial lineaments, but 
 in our most intimate constitution, to resemble himself, and to 
 partake of his most excellent perfections ; an extensive know- 
 lege of truth, a vehement complacency in good, a forward capa- 
 city of being completely happy, (according to our degree and 
 within our sphere.) To which blessed end by all suitable means 
 (of external ministry and interior assistance) he faithfully con- 
 ducts us ; revealing to us the way, urging us in our process, 
 reclaiming us when we deviate ; engaging us by his commands, 
 soliciting us by gentle advices, encouraging us by gracious pro- 
 mises; instructing us by his holy word, and admonishing us by 
 his loving spirit. 
 
 To him who vouchsafes to grant us a free access unto, a 
 constant intercourse and a familiar acquaintance with himself; 
 to esteem and style us his ' friends ' and ' children ;' to invite 
 us frequently, and entertain us kindly with those most pleasant 
 delicacies of spiritual repast ; yea, to visit us often at our home, 
 and (if we admit) to abide and dwell with us ; indulging us 
 the enjoyment of that presence, wherein the life of all joy and 
 comfort consists, and to behold the light of his all-cheering 
 countenance. 
 
 Is there any thing more? Yes: to him who, to redeem 
 us from misery, and to advance our estate, hath infinitely de- 
 based himself, and eclipsed the brightness of his glorious ma- 
 jesty ; not disdaining to assume us into a near affinity, yea, into
 
 184 BARROW. — SERMON VIII. 
 
 a perfect union with himself; to inhabit our frail and mortal 
 nature, to undergo the laws and conditions of humanity, to 
 appear in our shape, and converse, as it were, on equal terms 
 with us, and at last to taste the bitter cup of a most painful 
 and disgraceful death for us. 
 
 Yea, to him who not only descended from his imperial 
 throne, became a subject, and (which is more) a servant for 
 our sake ; but designed thereby to exalt us to a participation 
 of his royal dignity, his divine nature, his eternal glory and 
 bliss ; submitting crowns and sceptres to our choice ; crowns 
 that cannot fade, and sceptres that can never be extorted 
 from us. 
 
 Farther yet, to him, the excellent quality, the noble end, 
 the most obliging manner of whose beneficence doth surpass 
 the matter thereof, and hugely augment the benefits : who, not 
 compelled by any necessity, not obliged by any law, (or pre- 
 vious compact,) not induced by any extrinsic arguments, not 
 inclined by our merits, not wearied with our importunities, not 
 instigated by troublesome passions of pity, shame, or fear, (as 
 we are wont to be,) not flattered with promises of recompense, 
 nor bribed with expectation of emolument, thence to accrue 
 unto himself ; but being absolute master of his own actions, 
 only both lawgiver and counsellor to himself, all-sulEcient, and 
 incapable of admitting any accession to his perfect blissfulness; 
 most willingly and freely, out of pure bounty and goodwill, is 
 our Friend and Benefactor ; preventing not only our desires, 
 but our knowlege ; surpassing not our deserts only, but our 
 wishes, yea, even our conceits, in the dispensation of his inesti- 
 mable and unrequitable benefits ; having no other drift in the 
 collation of them, beside our real good and welfare, our profit 
 and advantage, our pleasure and content. 
 
 To him who not lately began, or suddenly will cease, 
 that is either uncertain or mutable in his intentions, but from 
 everlasting designed, continues daily, and will (if we sufter him) 
 to all eternity persevere unmoveable in his resolutions to do us 
 good. 
 
 To him whom no ingratitude, no undutiful carriage, no 
 rebellious disobedience of ours, could for one minute wholly 
 remove, or divert from his steady purpose of caring for us : who
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 185 
 
 regards us, though we do not attend to him ; procures our wel- 
 fare, though we neglect his concernments ; employs his restless 
 thought, extends his watchful eye, exerts his powerful arm, is 
 always mindful, and always busy to do us good ; watching over 
 us when we sleep, and remembering us when we forget our- 
 selves : in whom yet 'tis infinite condescension to think of us, 
 who are placed so far beneath his thoughts ; to value us who are 
 but dust and dirt ; not to despise and hate us, who are really 
 so despicable and unworthy. For * though he dwelleth on 
 high,' saith the psalmist truly and emphatically, ' he hum-' 
 bleth himself to behold the things that are done in heaven and 
 earth,' 
 
 To him that is as merciful and gracious, as liberal and 
 munificent toward us ; that not only bestows on us more gifts, 
 but pardons us more debts, forgives us more sins, than we live 
 minutes; that with infinite patience endures, not only our mani- 
 fold infirmities and imperfections, but our petulant follies, our 
 obstinate perversenesses, our treacherous infidelities ; overlooks 
 our careless neglects and our wilful miscarriages ; puts up 
 the exceedingly many outrageous affronts, injuries, and con- 
 tumelies continually offered to his supreme Majesty by us base 
 worms, whom he hath always under his feet, and can crush to 
 nothing at his pleasure. 
 
 To him yet, who, as St. James saith, ' giveth freely, and 
 upbraideth no man ;' who calls us neither very frequently nor 
 over strictly to accounts ; who exacts of us no impossible, no 
 very difficult, no greatly burdensome or costly returns ; being 
 satisfied with the cheerful acceptance of his favors, the hearty 
 acknowlegements of his goodness, the sincere performance of 
 such duties, to which our own welfare, comfort, and advantage 
 (rightly apprehended) would otherwise abundantly dispose us. 
 
 To him, lastly, whose benefits to acknowlege is the greatest 
 benefit of all ; to be enabled to thank whom deserves our 
 greatest thanks ; to be sensible of whose beneficence, to 
 meditate on whose goodness, to admire whose excellency, to 
 celebrate whose praise, is heaven itself and paradise, the life 
 of angels, the quintessence of joy, the supreme degree of 
 felicity. 
 
 In a word, to him whose benefits are immensely great, innu-
 
 186 BARROW. — SERMON VIII. 
 
 merably many, unexpressibly good and precious. For 'who 
 can utter the mighty acts of the Lord ? who can show forth 
 all his praise?' said he, who had employed often his most 
 active thoughts and his utmost endeavors thereon, and was 
 incomparably better able to do it. 
 
 To this God, to this great, to this only Benefactor of ours, 
 we owe this most natural and easy, this most just and equal, 
 this most sweet and pleasant duty of giving thanks. To whom 
 if we wilfully refuse, if we carelessly neglect to pay it, I shall 
 only say thus much, that we are not only monstrously ingrate- 
 ful, and horribly wicked, but abominably foolish, and deplo- 
 rably miserable. I shall repeat this sentence once again, and 
 wish it may have its due effect on us : To this great, to this 
 only Patron and Benefactor of ours, if we do not in some 
 measure discharge our due debt of gratitude for his inestimable 
 benefits and mercies, we are to be adjudged not only most 
 prodigiously unthankful, most detestably impious, but most 
 wofully stupid also and senseless, most desperately wretched 
 and unhappy. 
 
 I should now proceed to consider the circumstance of time 
 determined in the word always ; and the extension of the 
 matter implied in those words, /or all things ; and then to sub- 
 join some farther inducements or arguments persuasive to the 
 practice of this duty. But the time (and, I fear, your 
 patience) failing, I shall reserve them to some other oppor- 
 tunity.
 
 SERMON IX. 187 
 
 SUMMARY OF SERMON IX. 
 
 EPHESIANS, CHAP. V. — VERSE 20. 
 
 Kecapitulation of heads in the preceding discourse. 
 
 III. Consideration of the circumstance of time allotted to 
 the performance of this duty oi giving thanks, expressed by that 
 universal and unlimited term, always. 
 
 This not to be understood as if thereby we were obliged every 
 instant actually to remember, to consider, and to acknowlege 
 the divine benefits ; for the deliberate operations of our minds 
 being sometimes wholly interrupted by sleep, and at others 
 preoccupied by many reasonable employments, it were im- 
 possible to comply with an obligation of this duty so in- 
 terpreted. 
 
 We may therefore observe that the Hebrews are wont, in 
 way of synecdoche, or grammatical hyperbole, so to use words 
 of this kind, that their universal importance ought to be re- 
 strained by the quality or circumstances of the matter about 
 which they treat. Various instances given of this from holy 
 Scripture ; whence it appears that such injunctions as that in 
 the text are to be taken in a sense so qualified, that the observ- 
 ance of them may be at least morally possible. 
 
 Thus far we may limit the extension of this seemingly bound- 
 less term ; but we can hardly allow any farther restriction with- 
 out destroying its natural signification, or diminishing its due 
 emphasis : as far therefore as it is possible for us, we must en- 
 deavor always to perform this duty of gratitude to God ; and 
 consequently.
 
 188 SUMMARY OF 
 
 1. Hereby is required that we do often actually meditate 
 on, be sensible of, confess and celebrate the divine beneficence. 
 If God incessantly demonstrates himself gracious unto us, wo 
 are in all reason obliged frequently to confess ourselves grateful 
 unto him. Instance of King David, who seems to have ap- 
 proached very near to the complete performance of this duty. 
 If his most excellent example does not provoke us to emulation, 
 that of Epictetus, a heathen, may confound us with shame : his 
 remarkable words quoted. And although neither the admo- 
 nition of prophets, nor the precepts of philosophers, nor 
 the examples of both, should prevail ; yet might the prece- 
 dents of dumb and senseless creatures animate us thereto ; for 
 they never cease to obey the law imposed on them by their 
 Maker, and without intermission glorify him : this point en- 
 larged on. 
 
 2. Giving thanks always may import our appointing and 
 punctually observing certain convenient times of performing 
 this duty; that is, of seriously meditating on, and affectionately 
 acknowleging the divine bounty. Instance of the Jewish sacri- 
 fice, rendered by the Greek translators, the continual sacrifice. 
 As that sacrifice, being offered constantly at a set time, was 
 thence denominated continual, so perhaps may we, by con- 
 stantly observing some fit returns of praise and thanksgiving, be 
 said always to give thanks. , 
 
 In determining" the seasons and proportions of this duty, 
 we cannot use a better standard than that of the royal pro- 
 phet. 
 
 3. But farther, giving thanks always may import a vigi- 
 lant attendance on this duty, such as men bestow on their em- 
 ployments, of which, though the actual prosecution ceases, yet 
 the design continually proceeds; just as we say, such an one is 
 writing a book, or building a house, though he may at the pre- 
 sent time be occupied by some other employment; because
 
 SERMON IX. 189 
 
 his design never sleeps, and his purpose continues uninter- 
 rupted. 
 
 4. This term always necessarily implies a ready disposi- 
 tion or habitual inclination to give thanks, ever permanent in 
 us ; that our hearts, as David's was, be fixed always, that 
 is, fittingly prepared and steadily resolved to thank and praise 
 God. 
 
 5. Lastly; giving thanks always imports that vi^e readily 
 embrace every opportunity of actually expressing our thankful- 
 ness: for so in some places of Scripture, what is injoined to be 
 done continually, is in others only required to be done on all 
 opportunities. It is true that no time is unfavorable : every 
 moment we receive favors, and therefore every minute we owe 
 thanks ; yet there are some especial seasons that do more impor- 
 tunately require them : such pointed out at length. So much 
 concerning the time of performing this duty. 
 
 IV. The matter of it is considered ; for all things. Quota- 
 tion from St. Chrysostom, in which he despairs to recount all 
 the benefits and good thinj^s for v/hich he stands engaged to 
 God. The devout psalmist similarly affected, Ps. cxxxix. 17. 
 18. xxxvi. 5-7. We need not therefore confound ourselves by 
 launching out into this immense ocean ; but to observe some 
 little distinction, it may be said, 
 
 1. We are to give tl ^nks not only for great and notable 
 benefits, but for the least and most ordinary of God's favors ; 
 tliough indeed none are in themselves small and inconsiderable : 
 this point enlarged on. 
 
 •2. We are to render thanks not only for new and present 
 benefits, but for all we have formerly, all that we may here- 
 after receive. Example of David recommended ; who, in prais- 
 ing God for favors conferred on him, looked back to the earliest 
 period of his existence : also that of St. Paul. The hope and 
 foresight also of future blessings shown worthily to claim our 
 thanks, from 1 Pet. i. 3. 4.
 
 190 SUMMARY OF 
 
 3. We should bless God not only for new, rare, and 
 extraordinary events of Providence, but for the common 
 daily benefits and indulgences thereof: moreover these fa- 
 vors are usually the greatest and most valuable in their own 
 nature. 
 
 4. We should give thanks not only for private and parti- 
 cular, but for public benefits also, and for such as befal others : 
 exhortation of St. Paul on this head, 1 Tim. ii. 1. As we are 
 all citizens of the world, we are all concerned in its good con- 
 stitution, and thence obliged to adore thankfully its benevolent 
 upholder. If we consult all history, we shall find innumerable 
 instances of thankful acknowlegement to the divine goodness 
 on this head. Reasons urged to this duty, not only from a 
 common interest, but from charity, humanity, and the delight 
 which such a disposition, when cultivated, bestows on ourselves. 
 Example of David. 
 
 5. We are obliged to give thanks not only for pleasant and 
 prosperous occurrences of Providence, but for those also which 
 are adverse to our desire, and distasteful to our natural sense : we 
 are bound to pay thanks, not only for our food, but for our 
 physic also, which, though ungrateful to our palate, is profitable 
 for our health : reasons for this given. 
 
 6. Lastly, we are obliged to thank God not only for cor- 
 poreal and temporal benefits, but also, and that principally, for 
 spiritual and eternal blessings : as we are apt to desire more 
 vehemently, and more passionately to bewail the loss of, 
 temporal good things, so are we wont more sincerely and 
 Seriously to express our gratitude for the reception of them, 
 than of others relating to our spiritual and eternal welfare ; 
 wherein we act under a false judgment: this shown: in- 
 junction of our Saviour to his disciples considered, Luke 
 X. 20. Indebted as we are to God for our creation, and for 
 the excellent faculties with which he has endowed us, we 
 are still more so for our redemption and the circumstances
 
 SERMON IX. 191 
 
 of inexpressible love and grace therein declared : this subject 
 enlarged on. 
 
 Concluding considerations persuasive to the practice of this 
 duty. 
 
 I. First we may consider that there is no disposition more 
 deeply radicated in the original constitution of all souls endued 
 M'ith any kind of perception or passion, than that of being sen- 
 sible of benefits received, being ready with suitable expressions 
 to acknowlege them, and endeavoring competently to recom- 
 pense them : even the worst of men retain something of this 
 natural inclination, and the very brute creation gives evidence 
 of it : how monstrous a thing therefore in us is ingratitude to- 
 wards God, from whom alone we receive whatever we enjoy, 
 whatever we can expect of good ! 
 
 II. The second obligation to this duty is most just and equal ; 
 since we are in all reason indebted for what is freely given, as 
 well as for what is lent to us : for the freeness of the giver, 
 his not exacting security, nor expressing conditions of return, 
 doth not diminish, but rather increase the debt : this en- 
 larged on. 
 
 III. Thirdly, this is a most sweet and delightful duty : as the 
 performance of it proceeds from good humor and a cheerful 
 disposition of mind, so it feeds and foments them both. Prayer 
 reminds us of our imperfections and wants ; confession of our 
 misdeeds and bad deserts ; but thanksgiving includes nothing- 
 uneasy or unpleasant, nothing but the memory and sense of ex- 
 ceeding goodness. 
 
 Other considerations briefly added : viz. that this duty is of 
 all others most acceptable to God and profitable to us, inducing 
 him to bestow more, and qualifying us to receive it : that it 
 promotes and facilitates the practice of all other duties : that 
 the memory of past benefits, and sense of those present, confirms 
 our faith and nourishes our hopes : that the circumstances of
 
 192 SUMMARY OF SERMON IX. 
 
 the divine beneficence mightily strengthen the obligation to this 
 duty : that giving thanks hath de facto always been the prin- 
 cipal part of religion, whether instituted by divine command, 
 prompted by natural reason, or propagated by general tradition. 
 Concluding prayer.
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 193 
 
 SERMON IX. 
 OF THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 
 
 EPHESIANS, CHAP. V. — VERSE 20. 
 Giving thanks always for all things unto God. 
 
 Having formerly discoursed on these words, I observed in 
 them four particulars considerable : 1. The substance of a duty, 
 to which we are exhorted, to give thanks ; 2. The term unto 
 which it is directed, to God ; 3. The circumstance of time 
 determined in that word always ; 4. The extent of the 
 matter about which the duty is employed, ' for all things.' 
 Concerning the two former particulars, wherein the duty con- 
 sisted, and wherefore especially related unto God, I then re- 
 presented what did occur to my meditation. 
 
 III. I proceed now to the third, the circumstance of time 
 allotted to the performance of this duty, expressed by that uni- 
 versal and unlimited term, always. 
 
 Which yet is not so to be understood, as if thereby we were 
 obliged in every instant (or singular point of time) actually to 
 remember, to consider, to be affected with, and to acknowlege 
 the divine benefits : for the deliberate operations of our minds 
 being sometimes wholly interrupted by sleep, otherwhile pre- 
 occupied by the indispensable care of serving our natural 
 necessities, and with attendance on other reasonable employ- 
 ments, it were impossible to comply with an obligation to the 
 performance of this duty so interpreted. And those maxims of 
 law, impossibilium nulla est obligatio, and quce rerum natura 
 prohibentur, nulla lege confirmata sunt, (that is, * no law or 
 
 BAR. VOL. I. I
 
 194 . BARROW. — SERMON IX. 
 
 precept can oblige to impossibilities,') being evidently grounded 
 on natural equity, seem yet more valid in relation to his laws, 
 who is the Judge of all the world, and in his dispensations most 
 transcendently just and equal. 
 
 We may therefore observe that the Hebrews are wont (in 
 way of synecdoche, or grammatical hyperbole) so to use words 
 of this kind, that their universal importance ought to be 
 restrained by the quality or circumstances of the matter about 
 which they converse. As when our Saviour saith, ' Ye shall 
 be hated of all men for my sake;' all is not to be taken for 
 every singular person, (since there were some that loved our 
 Saviour, and embraced the evangelical doctrine) but for many, 
 or the most. And when David saith, ' There is none that 
 doeth good ;' he seemeth only to mean that in the general 
 corruption of his times there were few righteous persons to be 
 found. And so for ever is often used, not for a perpetual and 
 endless, but for a long and lasting duration ; and always, not 
 for a continual, unintermitted state of being, or action, but for 
 such a perseverance as agrees to the condition of the thing to 
 which it is applied. 
 
 'Tis, for instance, prescribed in Exodus, that Aaron should 
 'bear the judgment of the children of Israel (the Urim and 
 Thummim) on his heart before the Lord continually ;' that is, 
 (not in absolute and rigorous acceptation continually, but) con- 
 stantly ever when he went into the holy place to discharge the 
 pontifical function, as the context declares. And our Saviour 
 in the gospel saith of himself, 'Eyw TrajTore eblba^a, ' I always 
 taught in the temple ;' that is, very often, and ever when tit 
 occasion was presented. And the Apostles, immediately after 
 Christ's ascension, jUfxav biairarTos kv rw «epw, ' were, 'as St. Luke 
 tells us, ' continually in the temple, praising and blessing God ;' 
 that is, they resorted thither constantly at the usual times or 
 canonical hours of prayer. In like manner those injunctions 
 (of nearest affinity) of 'rejoicing,' of ' giving thanks always." 
 and particularly of ' praying without ceasing,' (as I have shown 
 more largely in another discourse,) are to be taken in a sense 
 so qualified, that the observance of them may be at least 
 morally possible. 
 
 Thus far warrantably we may limit the extension and niollify
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 195 
 
 the rigor of this seemingly boundless terra ; but we can hardly 
 allow any farther restriction, without destroying the natural 
 signification, or diminishing the due emphasis thereof. As far 
 therefore as it is possible for us, we must endeavor always to 
 perform this duty of gratitude to Almighty God : and con- 
 sequently, 
 
 1. Hereby is required a frequent performance thereof ; that 
 we do often actually meditate on, be sensible of, confess and 
 celebrate the divine beneficence. For what is done but seldom 
 or never, (as we commonly say,) cannot be understood done 
 always, without a catachresis, or abuse of words too enormous. 
 As therefore no moment of our life wants sufiicient matter, and 
 every considerable portion of time ministers notable occasion 
 of blessing God ; as he allows himself no spacious intervals or 
 discontinuances of doing us good ; so ought we not to suffer 
 any of those many days (vouchsafed by his goodness) to flow 
 beside us, void of the signal expressions of our dutiful thank- 
 fulness to him ; nor to admit in our course of life any long va- 
 cations from his duty. If God incessantly, and through every 
 minute, demonstrates himself gracious unto us ; we in all 
 reason are obliged frequently and daily to declare ourselves 
 grateful unto him. 
 
 So at least did David, (that most eminent example in this 
 kind, and therefore most apposite to illustrate our doctrine, and 
 to enforce the practice thereof ;) for, ' every day,' saith he, ' I 
 will bless thee ; I will praise thy name for ever and ever.' 
 Every day. The heavenly bodies did not more constantly 
 observe their course, than he his diurnal revolutions of praise : 
 every day in his calendar was as it were festival, and conse- 
 crated to thanksgiving. Neither did he adjudge it sufficient to 
 devote some small parcels of each day to this service ; for 
 ' my tongue,' saith he, ' shall speak of thy righteousness and of 
 thy praise all the daylong;' and again, * My mouth shall show 
 forth thy righteousness and thy salvation all the day, for I 
 know not the numbers thereof.' The benefits of God he appre- 
 hended so great and numerous, that no definite space of time 
 would serve to consider and commemorate them. He resolves 
 therefore otherwhere to bestow his whole life on that employ- 
 ment : ' While I live I will praise the Lord : I will sing,
 
 196 BARROW. — SERMON IX. 
 
 praises unto my God while I have any being ;' and ' I will bless 
 the Lord at all times : his praise shall continually be in my 
 mouth.' No man can reasonably pretend greater impediments, 
 or oftener avocations from the practice of this duty, than he, 
 on whom the burden of a royal estate, and the care of govern- 
 ing a populous nation, were incumbent : yet could not they 
 thrust out of his memony, nor extinguish in his heart, the lively 
 sense of divine goodness; which (notwithstanding the company 
 of other secular incumbrances) was always present to his mind, 
 and like a spirit, (excluded from no place by any corporeal 
 resistance,) did mingle with and penetrate all his thoughts, and 
 affections, and actions. So that he seems to have approached 
 very near to the complete performance of this duty, according 
 to the extremity of a literal interpretation, and to have been 
 always, without any intermission, employed in giving thanks to 
 God. The consideration, methinks, of so noble a pattern, 
 adjoined to the evident reasonableness of the duty, should 
 engage us to the frequent practice thereof.* 
 
 But if the consideration of this excellent example do not, 
 yet certainly that may both provoke us to emulation, and con- 
 found us with shame, of Epictetus, a heathen man, whose 
 words to this purpose seem very remarkable : Et yap vovv 
 eixo/J-ev, saith he in Arrian's Dissert, f dXXo ri ebei ?//ids 
 'TTOielv, Kal KOivrj, Kol Ihiq,, rj vfiveiv to Oelov, Kal evcprjfielv, koi 
 e7re^ep)^ecr0fu ras j^aptras ; ovk ebei Kal OKanTOvras, Kal apovyras, 
 Kal eaOiovras ^Seiv tov vfivov top els rov Qeov ; Meyas 6 Qeos, &C. 
 that is, in our language, " If we understood ourselves, what 
 other thing should we do, either publicly or privately, than 
 sing hymns to, and speak well of God, and perform thanks 
 unto him ? Ought we not, when we were digging, or ploughing, 
 or eating, to sing a (suitable) hymn to him ll Great is God, 
 
 * Et Se fiaaiXfhs a.v7}p fivpiais ^aTrri^S/xivos (ppovriffi, Kal Travraxidev irepieX- 
 KSfiefos, TocravTaKis irapeKaKei Thv @i6v tiVo h.v exo'Mf o.Tro\oyiav ?) axryyvd- 
 ft.r\v rjixeis, roaavrrtv trxoA-V dyoyres, koX ni] awfx^^ aiirhv iKerevomts, &C. — 
 Chrys. torn. v. p. 76. 
 
 t Lib. i. cap. 17. 
 
 i ndvTa roivvv rhv ^lov eoprV &yovTfs, TravTr] irdvroBev irapeivai riv &ehv 
 irereicr/ieVoi, yeiopyovfxiv alvovvres, 'jr\4ofiev vfivovvres, Karii tV &Wriv iro\iTfi(u> 
 iurix'^ais a.va(XTpt(p6iJLe6a, — Clem. Alex. Strom. vii. p. 517. 
 
 I
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 197 
 
 in that he hath bestowed on us those instruments wherewith 
 we till the ground : Great is God, because lie hath given us 
 hands, a throat, a belly ; that we grow insensibly, that sleeping 
 we breathe. Thus" (proceeds he) " should we on every occur- 
 rence celebrate God, and superadd of all the most excellent 
 and most divine hymn, for that he hath given us the faculty of 
 apprehending and using these things orderly. Wherefore since 
 most men are blind and ignorant of this, should there not be 
 some one, who should discharge this office, and who should for 
 the rest utter this hymn to God ? And what can I, a lame (and 
 decrepit) old man do else, than celebrate God ? Were I indeed 
 a nightingale, I would do what belongs to a nightingale ; if a 
 swan, what becomes a swan ; but since now I am endued with 
 reason, I ought to praise God. This is my duty and concern- 
 ment, and so I do ; neither will I desert this employment 
 while it is in my power ; and to the same song I exhort you 
 all." Thus that worthy philosopher, not instructing us only, 
 and exhorting with pathetical discourse, but by his practice 
 inciting us to be continually expressing our gratitude to God. 
 
 And although neither the admonition of prophets, nor pre- 
 cepts of philosophers, nor the examples of both, should prevail ; 
 yet the precedents, methinks, of dumb and senseless creatures 
 should animate us thereto ; which never cease to obey the law 
 imposed on them by their Maker, and without intermission glo- 
 rify him. For, ' the heavens declare the glory of God, and 
 the firmament showeth his handy work. Day unto day utter- 
 eth speech, and night unto night showeth knowlege. There is 
 no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard.' It is 
 St. Chrysostora's argumentation ; Ka« yap ala^pov ay eirj, saith 
 he, Tov XoyiKOV avBpunrov , Koi tUv upiofjievwv cnravToiv rtjUtwrepo*', 
 e\aTTOv rfjs Kricrews ^epeiv Kara tov Tfjs ev(pr)jxias \6yov' ovk atu- 
 Xfjov be fi6vov, fiXXa kol utottov, &c. " It were an ugly thing, 
 that man, endued with reason, and the most honorable of all 
 things visible, should in rendering thanks and praise be ex- 
 ceeded by other creatures : neither is it only base, but absurd. 
 For how can it be otherwise, since other creatures every day 
 and every hour send up a doxology to their Lord and Maker .' 
 For, ' the heavens declare the glory of God,'" &c. 
 
 If the busy heavens are always at leisure, and the stupid
 
 198 BARROW. — SERMON IX. 
 
 earth is perpetually active in manifesting the wisdom, power, 
 and goodness of their Creator ; how shameful is it, that we 
 (the flower of his creation, the most obliged, and most capable 
 of doing it) should commonly be either too busy, or too idle to 
 do it ; should seldom or never be disposed to contribute our 
 endeavors to the advancement of his glory ? But, 
 
 2^. * Giving thanks always' may import our appointing, and 
 punctually observing, certain convenient times of performing 
 this duty; that is, of serious meditation on, and aft'ectionate 
 acknowlegement of the divine bounty. We know that all 
 persons, who design with advantage to prosecute an orderly 
 course of action, and would not lead a tumultuary life, are wont 
 to distinguish their portions of time, assigning some to the ne- 
 cessary reflexions of their body, others to the divertisement of 
 their minds, and a great part to the dispatch of their ordinary 
 business : otherwise (like St. James's ' double-minded man') 
 they would be ' unstable in all their ways;' they would ever 
 fluctuate in their resolutions, and be uncertain when, and how, 
 and to what they should apply themselves. And so, this main 
 concernment of ours, this most excellent part of our duty, if 
 we do not depute some vacant seasons for it, and observe some 
 periodical recourses thereof, we shall be tempted often to omit 
 it ; we shall be listless to do it, apt to defer it, and easily di- 
 verted from it by the encroachments of other less-behoving 
 aff"airs. 
 
 The Jews, to preserve them in the constant exercise of this duty , 
 had instituted by God a sacrifice called tdd (Juge,) rendered 
 by the Greek translators, j/ bicnravTos dvaia, ' the continual sa- 
 crifice ;' (Dan. viii. 11.) to which the divine author of the Epis- 
 tle to the Hebrews seems to allude, when in these words he ex- 
 horts : Ai' avTUv ovy avacpepuifiev duatar airecr€ii)i biaTravros tm 0fw' 
 * by him therefore let us oft'er the sacrifice of praise to God con- 
 tinually,' (or the continual sacrifice of praise,) ' the fruit of our 
 lips, giving thanks to his name.' As that sacrifice therefore, 
 being oft'ered constantly at a set time, was thence denominated 
 ' continual;' so perhaps may we, by constantly observing some 
 fit returns of praise and thanksgiving, be said ' always to give 
 thanks.' 
 
 In determining the seasons and proportions of which, what
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 199 
 
 Other rule or standard can we better conform to than that of 
 the royal prophet ? I shall not urge his example so much ; 
 (according to which we should be obliged to a greater fre- 
 quency ;) for, ' seven times a day,' saith he, ' do I praise thee, 
 because of thy righteous judgments :' but rather allege his 
 general direction and opinion, proposed to us in those words of 
 his ; ' It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord, and to 
 sing praises unto thy name, O thou Most High ; to show forth 
 thy loving-kindness every morning, and thy faithfulness every 
 night.' ' It is a good thing;' that is, a seemly, a convenient, 
 a commendable, a due performance : ' every morning;' that is, 
 when our spirits, being recreated with sleep, are become more 
 vigorous, our memories more fresh, our fancies more quick and 
 active : • to show forth thy loving-kindness ;' that is, from a 
 hearty sense of our obligation, to acknowlege the free bounty 
 of him, who in pursuance of his former kindness hath been 
 pleased to accumulate new favors to us ; to guard us by his 
 watchful care, when we were buried, as it were, in a senseless 
 Ignorance, and total neglect of our own welfare ; to raise us 
 from that temporary death, and to confer a new life on us, re- 
 storing us to our health, to our means of subsistence, to all the 
 necessary supports, and the desirable comforts of life : ' every 
 night' also ; that is, when our spirits are exhausted with action, 
 and our minds tired with thoughtfulness ; when we are become 
 weary, not of doing only, but almost of being ; we should con- 
 clude our toils, and wrap up our cares in the sweet sense and 
 grateful memory of his goodness, who hath protected us so many 
 hours from the manifold dangers, and more sins, to which, by 
 our weakness, and our folly, and our bad inclinations, we are 
 through every minute exposed ; and withal hath provided us 
 so easy and so delightful a means of recovering our spent ac- 
 tivity, of repairing our decayed strength. 
 
 Thus if we constantly begin, and thus close up, thus bound 
 and circumscribe our days, dedicating those most remarkable 
 periods of time to blessing God, and making, as the psalmist 
 speaks, ' the outgoings of the morning and evening to rejoice' 
 in him : (since beginning and ending do in a manner compre- 
 hend the whole ; and the morning and evening, in Moses's 
 computation and style, do constitute a day ;) we may (not in-
 
 200 BARROW. — SERMON IX. 
 
 congruously) be supposed and said to * give thanks always.' 
 But yet farther, this may import, 
 
 3. A vigilant attendance on this duty, such as men bestow 
 on their employments, whereof though the actual prosecution 
 ceases, yet the design continually proceeds. As we say, such 
 a one is writing a book, building a house, occupying a piece of 
 land, though he be at that present peradventure sleeping, or 
 eating, or satisfying some other desire; because his design 
 never sleeps, and his purpose persists uninterrupted. And thus, 
 it seems, we are to understand our Saviour and the Apostles, 
 when they exhort us TrpoffKaprepe'iv, ' to continue instant in 
 prayer and thanksgiving ;' and aypvTrveh' ev iraar} TrpoaKaprept'i- 
 aei, to 'watch with all perseverance ;' and ypTiyopelv, to ' wake 
 in thanksgiving;' and fii) iraveadai, 'not to give over giving 
 thanks :' and to perform these duties abiaXeiTrrus, ' incessantly,' 
 or ' without giving off;' fiy) EKKaKelv, ' not to grow worse, faint, 
 or faulter :' (which is, in that place, made equivalent to, expli- 
 catory of doing duty always.) Which expressions denote a 
 most diligent attendance on these duties ; that we may make 
 them not a Trclpepyov, a diversion or by-business of our lives, 
 allowing only a perfunctory and desultorious endeavor on them ; 
 but esteem them a weighty business, to be pursued with stead- 
 fast resolution and unwearied industry. 
 
 As our beings and powers did proceed from the goodness, so 
 the results of them naturally tend to the glory of God ; and 
 the deliberations of our will ought to conspire with the instincts 
 of our nature ; it should be the principal design which our in- 
 tention should aim at, and our endeavor always drive on, to 
 glorify our Maker. Which doing, we may be reputed to dis- 
 charge this duty, and in some sense said ' always to give thanks.' 
 But farther, 
 
 4. This term [' always '] doth necessarily imply a ready dis- 
 position or habitual inclination to give thanks, ever permanent 
 in us : that our ' hearts,' as David's was, be ' fixed ' always 
 (that is, fittingly prepared and steadily resolved) to thank and 
 praise God; that our affections be like tinder, though not 
 always inflamed, yet easy inflammable by the sense of his good- 
 ness. 
 
 'Tis said of the righteous man that ' he is ever merciful, and
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 201 
 
 lendeth :' not for that he doth ever actually dispense alms, or 
 furnish his poor neighbor with supplies ; but because his mind 
 is ever inclinable to do it w^hen need requires. So a grateful 
 man doth ' always give thanks,' by being disposed to do it on 
 all fit occasions. 'Tis the habit that qualifies and denominates 
 a man such or such in any kind or degree of morality. A good 
 man is in Scripture frequently compared to a ' tree bringing 
 forth fruit in due season ;' and the root thereof is this habitual 
 disposition, which, being nourished by the dew of heaven, and 
 quickened by the benign influence of divine grace, sprouts forth 
 opportunely, and yields a plentiful increase of good fruit. 
 Though we cannot always sing, our organs may be always 
 rightly tuned for praise ; at least they should never be unstrung, 
 and wholly out of kelter. 
 
 We should maintain in ourselves a constant good temper of 
 mind, that no opportunity surprise, and find us unprepared to 
 entertain worthily the efl^ects of divine favor : otherwise we shall 
 as well lose the benefit as God the thanks and glory due to 
 them. That we be always thus disposed is not impossible, and 
 therefore requisite. But moreover, 
 
 5. Lastly, ' giving thanks always ' imports that we readily 
 embrace every opportunity of actually expressing our thankful- 
 ness. For so, what in some places of Scripture is enjoined to 
 be done 'continually,' and * without ceasing,' is in others 
 only required to be done on all opportunities. Which shows 
 that iravrore is to be expounded, not so much kv iravTl^P^vf, 
 ' at all times,' as ev iravTi Kaipw, ' in every season.' So Trpoarev^o- 
 /zei-oi evTravTi Kaip(Z tv irvevfiaTt, ' praying on every opportunity 
 in your spirit :' and, 'Aypv-n-velre ovv kv Travrl Kaipw hevjxevoif 
 * be watchful, praying in every season.' And this sense seems 
 probably to be chiefly intended by this Apostle, whenever he 
 hath (as he hath often) this expression, Trtivrore €v-)(apiaTelv, 
 that we embrace every overture or fit occasion of giving 
 thanks. 
 
 'Tis true no time is unseasonable to do it : every moment we 
 receive favors, and therefore every minute we owe thanks : yet 
 there are some especial seasons that do more importunately 
 require them. We should be like those trees that bear fruit 
 (more or less) continually ; but then more kindly and more
 
 202 BARROW. — SERMON IX. 
 
 abundantly when more powerfully cherished by the heavenly 
 warmth. 
 
 When any fresh, any rare, any remarkable benefit happens 
 to us ; when prosperous success attends our honest endeavors ; 
 when unexpected favors fall as it were of their own accord into 
 our bosoms : (like the grain in the golden age springing acrn-apra 
 Kai aviipoTn, without our care or our toil, for our use and enjoy- 
 ment;) when we are delivered from straits in our apprehension 
 inextricable, surmount difficulties seeming insuperable, escape 
 hazards (as we suspected) inevitable ; then is a special season 
 presented us of offering up the sacrifice of praise to the God of 
 mercy, help, and victory. 
 
 When we revolve in our minds (as we should often do) the 
 favorable passages of Providence, that in the whole course of 
 our lives have befallen us : how in our extreme poverty and dis- 
 tress (when perhaps no help appeared, and all hopes seemed to 
 fail us,) God hath raised us up friends who have commiserated, 
 comforted, and succored us; and not only so, but hath changed 
 our sorrowful condition into a state of joy ; hath (to use the 
 psalmist's expressions) 'turned our mourning into dancing; 
 hath ' put off our sackcloth, and girded us with gladness ;' hath 
 ' considered our trouble, and known our soul in adversity ;' hath 
 ' set our feet in a large room,' and furnished us with plentiful 
 means of subsistence ; how in the various changes, and adven- 
 tures, and travels of our life, on sea and land, at home and 
 abroad, among friends, and strangers, and enemies, he hath pro- 
 tected us from wants and dangers; from devouring diseases, 
 and the distemperatures of infectious air ; from the assaults of 
 bloody thieves and barbarous pirates ; from the rage of fire, 
 and fury of tempests ; from disastrous casualties ; from treache- 
 rous surprises; from open mischiefs, that with a dreadful 
 face approached and ■ threatened our destruction : then most 
 opportunely should we with all thankful exultation of mind 
 admire and celebrate 'our strength, and our deliverer;' our 
 faithful ' refuge in trouble,' and ' the rock of our salvation.' 
 
 Also when the ordinary effects of divine Providence do in 
 any advantageous manner present themselves to our view ; 
 when we peruse the volumes of story, and therein observe the 
 various events of human action ; especially the seasonable re-
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 203 
 
 wards of virtue, the notable protections and deliverances of inno- 
 cence, and the unexpected punishments of malicious wicked- 
 ness : then we should with thankful acclamations celebrate 
 the divine goodness and justice ; joining in concert with that 
 heavenly choir, and saying, ' Hallelujah ; salvation, and glory, 
 and honor, and power, unto the Lord our God : for true and 
 righteous are his judgments.' 
 
 Or when we contemplate the wonderful works of nature, and, 
 walking about at our leisure, gaze on this ample theatre of the 
 world, considering the stately beauty, constant order, and sump- 
 tuous furniture thereof; the glorious splendor and uniform mo- 
 tion of the heavens ; the pleasant fertility of the earth ; the 
 curious figure and fragrant sweetness of plants ; the exquisite 
 frame of animals ; and all other amazing miracles of nature, 
 wherein the glorious attributes of God (especially his transcen- 
 dent goodness) are most conspicuously displayed ; so that by 
 them not only large acknowlegements, but even gratulatory 
 hymns, as it were, of praise have been extorted from the mouths 
 of Aristotle, Pliny, Galen, and such like men, never sus- 
 pected guilty of an excessive devotion ;) then should our hearts 
 be affected with thankful sense, and our lips break forth into 
 his praise. 
 
 Yea, from every object of sense, from every event of Provi- 
 dence, from every common occurrence, we may extract fit mat- 
 ter of thanksgiving : as did our Saviour, when, considering the 
 stupid infidelity of those proud people of Chorazin, Bethsaida, 
 and Capernaum, (who were not at all aftectedby his miraculous 
 works, nor moved to repentance by his pathetical discourses,) 
 and comparing it with the pious credulity of his meaner disci- 
 ples, he brake forth into that divine ejaculation ; ' I thank thee, 
 O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast concealed 
 these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them 
 unto babes.' 'E,p eueivb) rw Kaipf airoKpiQeis, 'I»jcroD\ eiive, saith 
 the evangelical narration : ' On that occasion Jesus thus spake :' 
 he embraced that convenient opportunity of thankfully acknow- 
 leging God's wise and gracious dispensation. And frequent 
 occasion is aftorded us daily (were our minds suitably disposed) 
 of doing the like. 
 
 But so much concerning the time of performing this duty.
 
 204 BARROW. — SERMON IX. 
 
 IV. We proceed to the matter thereof, ' for all things.' St. 
 Chrysostom (in his Commentary on the 14.5th Psalm) having 
 enumerated several particulars for which we are bound to thank 
 God ; " Because," (I recite his words punctually rendered,) 
 " because," saith he, " he hath made us, who before had no 
 being, and made us such as we are ; because he upholds us 
 being made, and takes care of us continually, both publicly 
 and privately, secretly and openly, with and without our know- 
 lege ; for all visible things created for our sake, the ministry of 
 them afforded to us ; the conformation of our bodies, the noble- 
 ness of our souls; his daily dispensations by miracles, by laws, 
 by punishments ; his various and incomprehensible Providence ; 
 for the chief of all, that he hath not spared his only-begotten 
 Son for our sake ; the benefits conferred on us by baptism, and 
 the other holy mysteries, (or sacraments;) the ineffable good 
 things to be bestowed on us hereafter, the kingdom of heaven, 
 the resurrection, the enjoyment of perfect bliss:" having, I 
 say, in these words comprised the things for which we are 
 obliged to thank and praise God, he thus despondently con- 
 cludes ; (*Av yap CKadTov tis toxjtujv (caraXeyjj, els TreXayos 
 CKpciTov ifxireaelTai evepyecriQv, i:a\ o\peTai iroauv lirriv vTrevdvvos 
 TwOew.) " If any one shall endeavor to recount particularly 
 every one of these things, he will but plunge himself into an 
 unexpressible deep of benefits, and then perceive for how unex- 
 pressibly andjinconceivably many good things he stands engaged 
 to God." And to the like won ^/ms doth the devout psalmist 
 seem to be reduced, when he thus exclaims, ' How precious are 
 thy thoughts unto me, O God ! how great is the sum of them ! 
 If 1 should count them, they are more in number than the 
 sand.' 
 
 I shall not therefore confound myself by launching too far 
 into this immense ocean, nor strive minutely to compute the 
 incomprehensible sura of the divine benefits ; but only observe, 
 that in gross, according to our Apostle's calculation, all things, 
 which however happen to us, are ingredients thereof. No oc- 
 currence (great or small, common or particular, presenter past, 
 pleasant or sad, perpetual or transitory) is excluded from being 
 the subject of our thanksgiving : each one may prove benefi- 
 cial to us ; and we are with a cheerful contentedness and a
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 205 
 
 grateful resentment to receive them all from God's hand. But 
 to observe some little distinction : I say, 
 
 1. We are to give thanks, not only for great and notable 
 benefits, but for the least and most ordinary favors of God : 
 though indeed none of God's favors are in themselves small 
 and inconsiderable. Men are wont to bless themselves, if they 
 receive but a transient glance from a prince's eye; a smile from 
 a great personage ; any slender intimation of regard from him 
 that is in capacity to do them good. What is it then to re- 
 ceive the least testimony of his goodwill, from whom alone 
 every good thing can be expected ; on whose disposal all 
 happy success of our wishes, our hopes, and our endeavors do 
 intirely depend ! We repute him unjust who withholds the 
 least part of what is due from the true owner : and is not he in- 
 grateful then, that omits to render thanks for the least of divine 
 mercies ? 
 
 ' There is one glory of the sun, another of the moon, another 
 of the stars,' saith St. Paul. Some works of God indeed excel 
 in lustre ; yet all are glorious, all are to be discerned, all to be 
 esteemed and thankfully entertained by us. The brightness of 
 the one should not wholly obscure the other ; if it do, it argues 
 the weakness of our sense, the dulness of our spiritual faculty. 
 For every beam of light that delights our eye, for every breath 
 of air that cheers our spirits, for every drop of pleasant liquor 
 that cools our thirst, for every minute of comfortable repose, 
 for every step we safely take, for the happy issue of the 
 least undertaking, for escaping the vengeance due to an idle 
 word or a wanton thought, we owe a hymn of praise to God. 
 But, 
 
 2. We are to render thanks, not only for new and present 
 benefits, but for all we have formerly, all that we may here- 
 after receive. We find David not only frequently acknowlege- 
 ing the gracious dispensations of providence toward him 
 through the whole course of his life, but looking back in his 
 thankful devotions as far as his very original being, and prais- 
 ing God for favors conferred on him beyond his memory, yea 
 before his life. ' I will praise thee,' saith he, ' for I am fear- 
 fully and wonderfully made : marvellous are thy works, and 
 that my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid
 
 206 BARROW. — SERMON IX. 
 
 from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought 
 in the lower parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my sub- 
 stance, yet being imperfect ; and in thy book all my members 
 were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet 
 there was none of them.' And St. Paul, yet farther reflecting 
 his grateful consideration, blesses God for his favor commenced 
 before the beginning of things. ' Blessed,' saith he, ' be the 
 God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed 
 us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ, 
 according as he hath chosen us before the foundation of the 
 world.' 
 
 Neither doth the memory only of former, and the enjoyment 
 of present, but the hope and foresight also of future blessings, 
 worthily claim our thanks. For saith St. Peter, ' Blessed be 
 the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according 
 to his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively 
 hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead ; to an 
 inheritance incorruptible and undefiled, reserved in heaven for 
 you.' Beasts only, and men not much better than they, are 
 affected with present good turns ; but men of honest and gene- 
 rous temper resent indifferently the obligations of all times. 
 Sense doth not confine their gratitude, nor absence remove, 
 nor age wear it out. What once is done, is ever done to them ; 
 and what of courtesy is purposed, seems to them performed. 
 But having before discoursed somewhat largely concerning 
 the remembrance of benefits, I leave this point. Furthermore, 
 
 3. We should bless God, not only for new, rare, extraor- 
 dinary accidents of providence, but for the common and daily 
 benefits and indulgences thereof. These favors are usually 
 the greatest and most valuable in their own nature. (For what 
 can be imagined of higher consequence to us, than the preser- 
 vation of our lives and of our estates, by which they are com- 
 fortably maintained ; than the continuance of our bodies in 
 good health, and our minds in their right wits; than the 
 knowlege of heavenly truth, the encouragements to virtue and 
 piety, the assistances of divine grace, and the promises of 
 eternal bliss continually exhibited to us?*) Shall the com- 
 
 * Quern vero astrorum ordincs, quem dierum noctium«|ue vicissi-
 
 THE. DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 207 
 
 monness and continuance of tliese exceeding favors, that they 
 are not given us once only, and transitorily, but continued, 
 (that is, given us so often as time hath instants,) and with an 
 uninterrupted perseverance renewed unto us ; shall this abate 
 and enervate our gratitude, which in all reason should mainly 
 increase and confirm it ? But this point I also touched 
 before, and therefore, forbearing to insist thereon, I proceed. 
 
 4. We should give thanks, not only for private and par- 
 ticular, but for public benefits also, and for such as befal 
 others. * I exhort theri-fore,' saith St. Paul, * before all 
 things, that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanks- 
 givings be made for all men :' not prayers only, for good things 
 to be bestowed on others ; but thanksgivings also, for the 
 benefits received by others. (And vnep Truvrtav in our text, 
 however otherwise commonly interpreted, may well admit this 
 sense also ; and be taken indiff"erently, pro omnibus, ' for all 
 persons,' and propter omnia, 'for all things.') 
 
 We are all citizens of the world, and concerned in its good 
 constitution ; and thence obliged thankfully to adore the 
 mighty Upholder and wise Governor thereof, praising hira for 
 all the general benefits liberally poured forth on mankind. 
 We partake in the commodities of civil society ; and therefore 
 should heartily thank him, by whose gracious disposal order is 
 maintained, peace continued, justice administered, plenty pro- 
 vided, our lives made safe and sweet to us therein. We are 
 members of a church, and highly interested in the prosperous 
 estate and well-being thereof : when unity therefore is pre- 
 served, and charity abounds ; when knowlege is increased, and 
 virtue encouraged ; when piety flourishes, and truth triumphs 
 therein ; we are bound to render all possible thanks to the 
 gracious bestower of those inestimable blessings. 
 
 We are much mistaken in our account, if we either determine 
 our own concernments, or measure this duty, by the narrow 
 rule of our private advantage; for subducting either the bene- 
 fits commonly indulged to mankind, or those which accrue 
 
 tudines, queni mensium tcmperatio, quenique ca quae nobis gi^^^nun- 
 tur ad fruendum non gratum esse cogunt ; Ininc Iioniinom omninu 
 uumerare qui decet? — Cic. de Leg. ii.
 
 208 BARROW. — SERMON IX. 
 
 from the welfare of public society, what possibility will remain 
 of subsistence, of safety, of content unto us ? what but con- 
 fusion, want, violence, and disquiet ? 
 
 As we are concerned with our utmost endeavors to promote, 
 to wish and pray for, to delight and rejoice in, the public good 
 of mankind, the peace of our country, the prosperity of Sion ; 
 so we are to bless and thank him, by whose gracious help and 
 furtherance they are attained. 
 
 If we consult all history, (sacred and civil,) we shall find it 
 to contain hardly any thing else considerable, but the earnest 
 endeavors of good men for public benefit, and their thankful 
 acknowlegements to the divine goodness for it. Moses, David, 
 Nehemiah, St. Paul, all the Prophets, and all the Apostles, 
 what other things memorable did they do, but serve God in 
 procuring public good, and bless God for conferring it? 
 
 Neither only as we are combined with others in common 
 interest, but without selfish respects, purely out of charity, and 
 humanity, and ingenuous pity, are we obliged to thank God for 
 the benefits he is pleased to impart to others. If on these 
 accounts we are commanded to * do good to all men ;' to 
 ' rejoice with those that rejoice :' to * love even those that hate 
 us,' and * bless those that curse us ;' 'tis (by fair consequence) 
 surely intended that we should also bless God for the good 
 issue of our honest endeavors, or of our good wishes for them. 
 
 And verily could we become endowed with this excellent 
 quality of delighting in others' good, and heartily thanking 
 God for it, we needed not to envy the wealth and splendor of 
 the greatest princes, not the wisdom of the profoundest doctors, 
 not the religion of the devoutest anchorets, no, nor the happi- 
 ness of the highest angels : for on this supposition, as the glory 
 of all is God's, so the content in all would be ours. All the 
 fruit they can perceive of their happy condition, of what kind 
 soever, is to rejoice in it themselves, and to praise God for it ; 
 and this should we then do as well as they. My neighbor's 
 good success is mine, if I equally triumph therein ; his riches 
 are mine, if I delight to see him enjoy them : his health is mine, 
 if it refresh my spirits : his virtue mine, if I by it am bettered, 
 and have hearty complacence therein. By this means a man 
 derives a confluence of joy on himself, and makes himself, as
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 209 
 
 it were, the centre of all felicity ; enriches himself with the 
 plenty, and satiates himself with the pleasure, of the whole 
 world: reserving to God the praise, he enjoys the satisfaction 
 of all good that happens to any. 
 
 Thus we see David frequently thanking God, not for his 
 favor only and mercy showed particularly to himself, but for 
 his common munificence toward all ; for (to use his own phrases) 
 ' his goodness to all, and his tender mercies overall his works ;' 
 for * executing judgment in behalf of the oppressed ;' for ' feed- 
 ing the hungry ;' for ' loosening the prisoners ;' for ' opening the 
 eyes of the blind ;' for * raising them that are bowed down ;' 
 for * preserving the strangers,' and ' relieving the fatherless and 
 widow;' for 'lifting up the meek;' for ' loving, and caring 
 for, and defending the righteous ;' for ' opening his hand, and 
 satisfying the desire of every living thing;' for 'giving to the 
 beast his food, and to the young ravens when they cry unto 
 him ;' in a word, for his goodness to every particular creature, 
 not excluding the most contemptible nor the most savage of all. 
 And how affectionately doth St. Paul every where thank God 
 for the growth in grace and spiritual wisdom, for the patience 
 in affliction and perseverance in faith, of those good Christians 
 he writes unto! So should, with an unrestrained exuberance, 
 both our charity to men, and our gratitude to God, abound. 
 But moreover, 
 
 5. We are obliged to give thanks, not only for pleasant and 
 prosperous occurrences of providence, but for those also which 
 are adverse to our desire, and distasteful to our natural sense ; for 
 poverty, sickness, disgrace ; for all the sorrows and troubles, 
 the disasters and disappointments that befal us. We are 
 bound to pay thanks, not for our food only, but for our physic 
 also ; (which, though ingrateful to our palate, is profitable for 
 our health :) we are obliged, in the school of providence, not 
 only for the good instructions, but for the seasonable correc- 
 tions also vouchsafed unto us, (whereby, though our senses are 
 ofiended, our manners are bettered.*) Whatever proceeds 
 from good purpose, and tends to a happy end, that is 
 
 * Thv dehv dfxoiws avv/ivHv xph> k"-^ KoKa^ovra, Koi avUvra KoXaffeoir afifS- 
 repa yap KTj^eixoyias, uix.(p6Tfpa ayaddrriTos, Sec. — Chrysost. in Psal. cxlviii*
 
 210 BARROW. — SERMON IX. 
 
 graciously designed, and effectually conduces to our good, is a 
 fit subject of thanksgiving ; and such may all adversities prove 
 unto us. They proceed usually from love and kind intention 
 toward us; for 'whom God loveth he chasteneth, and scourg- 
 eth every son whom he receiveth ;' and ' I know, O Lord,' 
 saith David, * that thy judgments are right, and that thou in 
 faithfulness hast afflicted me :' • in faithfuluess,' that is, with a 
 sincere intention of doing me good. 
 
 God thoroughly knows our constitution, what is noxious to 
 our health, and what may remedy our distempers ; and there- 
 fore accordingly disposeth to us' 
 
 pro jucundis aptissima quaeque ; 
 
 instead of pleasant honey, he sometimes prescribes wholesome 
 wormwood for us. We are ourselves greatly ignorant of what 
 is conducible to our real good, and, were the choice of our 
 condition wholly permitted to us, should make very foolish, 
 very disadvantageous elections. 
 
 We should (be sure) all of us embrace a rich and plentiful 
 estate ; when as, God knows, that would make us slothful and 
 luxurious, swell us with pride and haughty thoughts, incum- 
 ber us with anxious cares, and expose us to dangerous tempta- 
 tions ; would render us forgetful of ourselves, and neglectful 
 of him. Therefore he wisely disposeth poverty unto us ; 
 poverty, the mother of sobriety, the nurse of industry, the mis- 
 tress of wisdom ; which will make us understand ourselves and 
 (>ur dependence on him, and force us to have recourse to his 
 help. And is there not reason we should be thankful for the 
 means by which we are delivered from those desperate mischiefs, 
 and obtain these excellent advantages ? 
 
 We should all (certainly) choose the favor and applause of 
 men : but this, God also knows, would corrupt our minds with 
 vain conceit, would intoxicate our fancies with spurious plea- 
 sure, would tempt us to ascribe immoderately to ourselves, and 
 sacrilegiously to deprive God of his due honor. Therefore he 
 advisedly suffers us to incur the disgrace and displeasure, the 
 hatred and contempt of men ; that so we may place our glory 
 only in the hopes of his favor, and may pursue more earnestly
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 211 
 
 the purer delights of a good conscience. And doth not this 
 part of divine providence highly merit our thanks ? 
 
 We vvoukl all climb into high places, not considering the 
 precipices on which they stand, nor the vertiginousness of our 
 own brains : but God keeps us safe in the humble valleys, 
 allotting to us employments which we are more capable to 
 manage. 
 
 We should perhaps insolently abuse power, were it com- 
 mitted to us : we should employ great parts on unwieldy pro- 
 jects, as many do, to the disturbance of others, and their own 
 ruin : vast knowlege would cause us to overvalue ourselves and 
 contemn others : enjoying continual health, we should not per- 
 ceive the benefit thereof, nor be mindful of him that gave it. 
 A suitable mediocrity therefore of these things the divine good- 
 ness allotteth unto us, that we may neither starve for want, nor 
 surfeit with plenty. 
 
 In fine, the advantages arising from afflictions are so many, 
 and so great, that (had I time, and were it seasonable to insist 
 largely on this subject) it were easy to demonstrate that we 
 have great reason, not only to be contented with, but to re- 
 joice in, and to be very thankful for, all the crosses and vexa- 
 tions we meet with : to receive them cheerfully at God's hand, 
 as the medicines of our soul, and the condiments of our fortune; 
 as the arguments of his goodwill and the instruments of virtue; 
 as solid grounds of hope, and comfortable presages of future 
 joy unto us. 
 
 6. Lastly, we are obliged to thank God, not only for corpo- 
 real and temporal benefits, but also (and that principally) for 
 spiritual and eternal blessings. We are apt, as to desire more 
 vehemently, to rejoice more heartily in the fruition, and more 
 passionately to bewail the loss of temporal good things ; so 
 more sincerely and seriously to express our gratitude for the 
 reception of them, than for others relating to our spiritual good, 
 to our everlasting welfare. Wherein we misjudge and misbe- 
 have ourselves extremely. For, as much as the reasonable soul 
 (that goodly image of the divine essence, breathed from the 
 mouth of God) doth in dignity of nature, and purity of sub- 
 stance, excel this feculent lump of organised clay, our body ; 
 as the blissful ravishments of spirit surpass the dull satisfactions
 
 2}^ BARROW. — SERMON IX. 
 
 of sense; as the bottomless depth of eternity exceeds that shal- 
 low surface of time, which terminates this transitory life ; in 
 such proportion should our appetite unto, our complacence 
 in, our gratitude for spiritual blessings transcend the affec- 
 tions (respectively) engaged about these corporeal accommo- 
 dations. 
 
 Consider that injunction of our Saviour to his disciples : 
 ' In this rejoice not, that the spirits are subject unto you ; but 
 rather rejoice, because your names are written in heaven.' 
 ' Rejoice not ;' that is, be not at all affected with this (although 
 in itself very rare accomplishment, eminent privilege, glorious 
 power of working that indeed greatest of miracles, subjecting 
 devils ; that is, baffling the shrewdest craft, and subduing the 
 strongest force in nature) in comparison of that delight, which 
 the consideration of the divine favor, in order to your eternal 
 felicity, doth afford. 
 
 We are, it is true, greatly indebted to God for our creation, 
 for that he hath extracted us from nothing, and placed us in so 
 lofty a rank among his creatures ; for the excellent faculties of 
 soul and body, wherewith he hath endued us ; and for many most 
 admirable prerogatives of our outward estate : but much more 
 for our redemption, and the wonderful circumstances of unex- 
 pressible love and grace therein declared ; for his descending to 
 a conjunction with our nature, and elevating us to a participa- 
 tion of his ; for dignifying us with more illustrious titles, and 
 instating us in a sure capacity of a much superior happiness. 
 Our daily food deserves well a grace to be said before and 
 after it : but how much more that constant provision of hea- 
 venly manna, the evangelical verity; those savory delicacies of 
 devotion, whereby our souls are nourished to eternal life ? It 
 is a laudable custom, when we are demanded concerning our 
 health, to answer, ' well, I thank God;' but much more rea- 
 son have we to say so, if our conscience can attest concerning 
 that sound constitution of mind whereby we are disposed vi- 
 gorously to perform those virtuous functions, due from reason- 
 able nature, and conformable to the divine law. If for the pros- 
 perous success of our worldly attempts; for avoiding dangers, 
 that threatened corporal pain and damage to us ; for defeating 
 the adversaries of our secular quiet, we make Te Deum lauda-
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 213 
 
 mus our kinviKiov, (our song for victory ;) how much more 
 for the happy progress of our spiritual affairs, (affairs of in- 
 comparably highest consequence ;) for escaping those dreadful 
 hazards of utter ruin, of endless torture ; for vanquishing sin 
 and hell, those irreconcileable enemies to our everlasting 
 peace ; are we obliged to utter triumphal anthems of joy and 
 thankfulness ! 
 
 This is the order observed by the psalmist : inciting his soul 
 to ' bless God ' for ' all his benefits,' he begins with the consi- 
 deration of God's mercy in pardoning his sins ; then proceeds 
 to his goodness in bestowing temporal favors. ' Who forgiveth 
 all thy sins,' leads the van ; ' who satisfieth thy mouth with 
 good things,' brings up the rear in the enumeration and ac- 
 knowlegement of God's benefits. That our minds are illustrated 
 with the knowlege of God and his glorious attributes of Christ 
 and his blessed gospel, of that straight path which conducteth 
 to true happiness ; that by divine assistance we are enabled to 
 elude the allurements, to withstand the violences of temptation, 
 to assuage immoderate desires, to bridle exorbitant passions, 
 to correct vicious inclinations of mind ; requires more our 
 hearty thanks, than for that we were able by our natural wit 
 to penetrate the abstrusest mysteries, or to subjugate empires 
 by our bodily strength. The forgiveness of our sins doth more 
 oblige us to a grateful acknowlegement of the divine goodness, 
 than should God enrich us with all the treasures contained in 
 the bowels of the earth, or bottom of the ocean. One glimpse 
 of his favorable countenance should more inflame our affections, 
 than being invested with all the imaginable splendor of worldly 
 glory. 
 
 Of these inestimable benefits, and all the advantageous cir- 
 cumstances wherewith they are attended, we ought to maintain 
 in our hearts constant resentments ; to excite our thankfulness, 
 to kindle our love, to quicken our obedience, by the frequent 
 contemplation of them. 
 
 Thus have I (though, I confess, much more slightly than so 
 worthy a subject did require) prosecuted the several particulars 
 observable in these words. I should conclude with certain in- 
 ducements persuasive to the practice of this duty ; whereof I
 
 214 BARROW. — SERMON IX. 
 
 have in the tenor both of the former and present discourse in- 
 sinuated divers, and could propound many more : but (in com- 
 pliance with the time) I shall content myself briefly to con- 
 sider only these three very obvious ones. 
 
 I. First, therefore, we may consider that there isno disposition 
 whatever more deeply radicated in the original constitution of 
 all souls endued with any kind of perception or passion, than 
 being sensible of benefits received ; being kindly affected with 
 love and respect toward them that exhibit them ; being ready 
 with suitable expressions to acknowlege them, and to endeavor 
 competent recompenses for them. The worst of men, the most 
 devoid of all not only piety, but humanity and common inge- 
 nuity, the most barbarous and most wicked, (whom neither 
 sense of equity nor respect to law, no promise of reward or fear 
 of vengeance, can anywise engage to do things just and fitting, 
 or restrain from enormous actions,) retain notwithstanding: 
 something of this natural inclination, and are usually sensible 
 of good turns done unto them. Experience teaches us thus 
 much ; and so doth that sure oracle of our Saviour : ' If,' saith 
 he, ' ye do good to those who do good to you, what thanks is 
 it? for even sinners (that is, men of apparently lewd and dis- 
 solute conversation) do the same.' 
 
 Yea even beasts, and those not only the most gentle and 
 sociable of them, (the officious dog, the tractable horse, the 
 docile elephant,) but the wildest also and fiercest of them, (the 
 untameable lion, the cruel tiger and ravenous bear, as stories 
 tell us, and experience attests,) bear some kindness, show some 
 grateful affection to those that provide for them. 
 
 Neither wild beasts only, but even inanimate creatures seem 
 not altogether insensible of benefits, and lively represent unto 
 us a natural abhorrence of ingratitude. The rivers openly dis- 
 charge into the sea those waters, which by indiscernible con- 
 duits they derived thence ; the heavens remit in bountiful 
 showers what from the earth they had exhaled in vapor ; and 
 the earth by a fruitful increase repays the culture bestowed 
 thereon; if not, (as the Apostle to the Hebrews doth pro- 
 nounce,) it deserves ' cursing' and ' reprobation.' So mon- 
 strous a thing, and universally abominable to nature, is all in-
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 215 
 
 gratitude. And how execrable a prodigy is it then toward 
 God, from whom alone we receive whatever we enjoy, what- 
 ever we can expect of good ? 
 
 II. The second obligation to this duty is most just and equal. 
 For, (as he* said well,) heneficium qui dare nescit, injuste 
 petit : ' He unjustly requires (much more unjustly receives) a 
 benefit, who is not minded to requite it.' In all reason we are 
 indebted for what is freely given, as well as for what is lent 
 unto us. For the freeness of the giver, his not exacting secu- 
 rity, nor expressing conditions of return, doth not diminish, but 
 rather increase the debt. He that gives, indeed, according to 
 human (or political) law, (which, in order to preservation of 
 public peace, requires only a punctual performance of con- 
 tracts,) transfers his right, and alienates his possession : but 
 according to that more noble and perfect rule of ingenuity, (the 
 law which God and angels and good men chiefly observe and 
 govern themselves by,) what is given is but committed to the 
 faith, deposited in the hand, treasured up in the custody of 
 him that receives it : and what more palpable iniquity is there, 
 than to betray the trust, or to detain the pledge, not of some 
 inconsiderable trifle, but of inestimable good-will ? Excepta 
 Macedonum gente, saith Seneca, non est ulla data adversits 
 ingratttm actio : ' In no nation (excepting the IVIacedonians) an 
 action could be preferred against ingrateful persons, as so.' 
 (Though Xenophon, no mean author, reports, that among the 
 Persians also there were judgments assigned, and punishments 
 appointed for ingratitude.) However, in the court of heaven, 
 and at the tribunal of conscience, no offender is more con- 
 stantly arraigned, none more surely condemned, none more 
 severely punished than the ingrateful man. 
 
 Since therefore we have received all from the divine bounty ; 
 if God should in requital exact that we sacrifice our lives to 
 the testimony of his truth ; that we employ our utmost pains, 
 expend our whole estate, adventure our health, and prostitute 
 all our earthly contents to his service ; since he did but revoke 
 his own, it were great injustice to refuse compliance with his 
 
 * Laberius,
 
 216 BARROW. — SERMON IX. 
 
 demands : how much more, when he only expects from us and 
 requires some few acknowlegements of our obligation to him, 
 some little portions of our substance for the relief of them 
 that need, some easy observances of his most reasonable com- 
 mands ? 
 
 III. Thirdly, this is a most sweet and delightful duty. 'Praise 
 the Lord,' saith the most experienced psalmist, ' for the Lord 
 is good ; sing praises to his name, for it is pleasant :' and 
 otherwhere, ' Praise the Lord, for it is good to sing praises to 
 our God ; for it is pleasant, and praise is comely.' The per- 
 formance of this duty, as it especially proceeds from good 
 humor and a cheerful disposition of mind ; so it feeds and fo- 
 ments them ; both root and fruit thereof are hugely sweet and 
 sapid. Whence St. James ; ' If any man be afflicted, let him 
 pray ; is any merry, let him sing psalms.' (Psalms, the proper 
 matter of which is praise and thanksgiving.) 
 
 Other duties of devotion have something laborious in them, 
 something disgustful to our sense. Prayer minds us of our 
 wants and imperfections ; confession induces a sad remem- 
 brance of our misdeeds and bad deserts : but thanksgiving in- 
 cludes nothing uneasy or unpleasant ; nothing but the memory 
 and sense of exceeding goodness. 
 
 All love is sweet ; but that especially which arises, not from 
 a bare apprehension only of the object's worth and dignity, but 
 from a feeling of its singular beneficence and usefulness unto 
 us. And what thought can enter into the heart of man more 
 comfortable and delicious than this, that the great Master of 
 all things, the most wise and mighty King of heaven and earth, 
 hath entertained a gracious regard, hath expressed a real kind- 
 ness towards us ? That we are in capacity to honor, to please, 
 to present an acceptable sacrifice to him, who can render us 
 perfectly happy ? That we are admitted to the practice of that 
 wherein the supreme joy of paradise, and the perfection of 
 angelical bliss consists ? For praise and thanksgiving are the 
 most delectable business of heaven ; and God grant they may 
 be our greatest delight, our most frequent employment on 
 earth. 
 
 To these I might add such farther considerations : That this
 
 THE DUTY OF THANKSGIVING. 217 
 
 duty is of all most acceptable to God, and most profitable to 
 us. That gratitude for benefits procures more, disposing" God 
 to bestow, and qualifying us to receive them. That the se- 
 rious performance of this duty efficaciously promotes and faci- 
 litates the practice of other duties; since the more we are 
 sensible of our obligations to God, the more ready we shall be 
 to please him, by obedience to his commandments. What St. 
 Chrysostom saith of prayer, It is impossible that he, who with 
 competent promptitude of mind doth constantly apply himself 
 thereto, should ever sin, is most especially true of this part of 
 devotion : for how can we at the same time be sensible of 
 God's goodness to us, and willingly offend him ? That the 
 memory of past benefits, and sense of present, confirms our 
 faith, and nourishes our hope of future. That the circum- 
 stances of the divine beneficence mightily strengthen the obli- 
 gation to this duty ; especially his absolute freeness in giving, 
 and our total unworthiness to receive ; our very ingratitude 
 itself affording strong inducements to gratitude. That giving 
 thanks hath de facto been always the principal part of all reli- 
 gion, (whether instituted by divine command, or prompted by 
 natural reason, or propagated by general tradition;) the Ethnic 
 devotion consisting (as it were totally) in the praise of their 
 gods, and acknowlegement of their benefits ; the Jewish more 
 than half in eucharistical oblations, and in solemn commemo- 
 rations of providential favors ; and that of the ancient Chris- 
 tians so far forth, that bye-standers could hardly discern any 
 other thing in their religious practice, than that they sang 
 hymns to Christ, and by mutual sacraments obliged themselves 
 to abstain from all villainy. But I will rather wholly omit the 
 prosecution of these pregnant arguments, than be farther offeji- 
 sive to your patience. 
 
 Now the blessed Fountain of all goodness and mercy in- 
 spire our hearts with his heavenly grace, and thereby enable us 
 rightly to apprehend, diligently to consider, faithfully to re- 
 member, worthily to esteem, to be heartily affected with, to 
 render all due acknowlegement, praise, love, and thankful 
 
 * Vid. diviniss. Chrys. locum torn. v. p. 76. 
 
 BAR. VOL. I. K
 
 218 BARROW.— SERMON IX. 
 
 obedience for all his (infinitely great and innumerable many) 
 favors, mercies, and benefits freely conferred on us : and let us 
 say with David, ' Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, who only 
 doth wondrous things : and blessed be his glorious name for 
 ever ; and let the whole earth be filled with his glory.' * Bles- 
 sed be the Lord God of Israel from everlasting to everlasting : 
 and let all the people say, Amen.'
 
 SERMON X. 219 
 
 SUMMARY OF SERMON X. 
 
 I TIMOTHY, CHAP. II. — VERSES 1. 2. 
 
 From St. Paul's observations in the preceding chapter, and 
 in that from which the text is taken, we may collect two par- 
 ticulars. 1. That the making oi prayers for kings is a Chris- 
 tian duty of great importance. 2. That it is incumbent on 
 the pastors of the church to take especial care that this duty be 
 performed both publicly in their congregations, and privately 
 in the retirement of each Christian. The first of these parti- 
 culars pressed by several considerations. 
 
 I, The Apostle exhorts Christians to pray for kings with all 
 sorts of prayer ; with deprecations for averting evils from them, 
 with petitions for obtaining good things for them, with occa- 
 sional intercessions for needful gifts and graces to be collated 
 on them: to all this we are obliged on divers accounts. 1. 
 Common charity should dispose us to pray for kings. This 
 Christian disposition inclines to universal benevolence, accord- 
 ing to that apostolical precept, as we have opportunity, let us do 
 good unto all men : it consequently will incline us to pray for 
 all men. 2. This is the only way that most of us may have 
 to benefit those who are in so high a station above us, and out of 
 the reach of private beneficence. 3. We are bound to pray for 
 kings from charity to the public ; because their good is a ge- 
 neral good, and the communities of men, both church and state, 
 are greatly concerned in the blessings by prayer derived on 
 them : this point illustrated by many arguments and examples
 
 220 SUMMARY OF 
 
 from holy Scripture: our obligation to love our country en- 
 larged on, as a very noble piece of charity : 4. consequently 
 our own interest, and charity to ourselves should dispose us to 
 pray for our prince. We are nearly concerned in his welfare, 
 as parts of the public ; we cannot but partake of his good, we 
 cannot but suffer with him : consideration on this point sug- 
 gested by holy Scripture. 5. We should consider that sub- 
 jects are obliged in gratitude, equity, and justice to perform 
 this duty ; for kings are most nearly related and allied to us 
 by the most sacred bonds ; being constituted by God, in his 
 own room, parents and guardians of their country, being also 
 avowed and accepted for such by solemn vows and most holy 
 sacraments of allegiance ; whence unto them we owe a humble 
 piety and dutiful observance; which cannot be better expressed 
 than in our heartiest prayers for their welfare : this point en- 
 larged on. 6. Whereas we are by divine command fre- 
 quently enjoined to fear and reverence, to honor and obey 
 kings, we should look on prayer for them as a principal branch, 
 and the neglect thereof as a notable breach of those duties ; 
 for as to honor, nothing can so demonstrate it as the wishing 
 them well in our hearts, and thence framing addresses to the 
 divine majesty for their welfare : and as for obedience, prayer 
 for princes is clearly an instance thereof, since it may be sup- 
 posed that all princes do require it from their subjects. 7. 
 The praying for them is a service peculiarly honorable, and 
 very acceptable to God, which he will interpret as a great re- 
 spect done to himself; for thereby we honor his image and 
 character in them. 8. Wisdom inclines us to place our de- 
 votion where it will be most needful and useful. Their office 
 •is most high and hard to discharge well or happily, wherefore 
 they need extraordinary supplies from the divine bounty : their 
 affairs are of greatest weight and importance ; their delibera- 
 tions are about matters of dark and uncertain consequence ; 
 their enterprises are commonly such as are of greatest difficulty ;
 
 SERMON X. 221 
 
 they are most exposed to dangers and disasters; they have 
 the natural infirmities of other men, and are far beyond them 
 subject to temptations : wherefore if we love them, our country, 
 or ourselves, if we regard the interests of truth, of piety, or the 
 common good, we shall not fail to pray that God will afford 
 them needful assistance in the administration of their high 
 office. 9. Whereas God has declared that he hath a special 
 regard to princes, as his representatives, the ministers of kis 
 kingdom, and this for the benefit of mankind, which is mainly 
 concerned in their welfare, on that account our prayers for them 
 are the more required ; for it is a method of God, not to dis- 
 pense special blessings without particular conditions, and the 
 concurrence of our duty in observing his commands. 10. To 
 engage and encourage us in this practice we may farther con- 
 sider that such prayers duly offered with fervency and con- 
 stancy, sincerity and zeal, do never want effect ; which, if it be 
 not always discernible, is certainly real, if not as perfect as we 
 desire, as competent as the condition of things will bear : this 
 subject enlarged on : the general efficacy of prayer considered : 
 our reasonable hopes in the present instance. 11. Another 
 general consideration is, that prayer is the only allowable way 
 of redressing our case, if we suffer by or for princes : this point 
 enlarged on : precepts of St. Paul considered : God's provi- 
 dence stated as the only sure ground of our confidence or hope 
 for the preservation of church and state. 12. Seeing then 
 that there are so many good arguments and motives for indu- 
 cing us to pray for kings, it is no wonder that, to back them, 
 we may also allege the continual practice of the church, in all 
 times performing this duty in its most sacred offices. Exhor- 
 tation of St. Paul on this head : practice of the church in this 
 respect, as related by Tertullian : also as related by St. Chry- 
 sostom : prayers for the emperors were inserted in the Greek 
 liturgies : reasons why the offices of the Romish church, and 
 of those which truckled to it in latter times, were defective in
 
 222 SUMMARY OF SERMOM X. 
 
 this point of service : ample manner in which our own church 
 performs this duty. 
 
 Besides these general inducements to this duty, there are 
 particular reasons which inforce it in the present season. Times 
 of danger and distress, of guilt and deserved wrath, are most 
 seasonable for recourse to the divine help and mercy in prayer : 
 the gloomy days, the dissensions and animosities of parties, the 
 universal licentiousness of all ranks, the general contempt of 
 religious duties, and the heavy judgments that may be expected, 
 dilated on. Thisi first duty, prai/ erf or kings, has been thus 
 largely insisted on, by reason of its seasonableness to the pre- 
 sent times. 
 
 II. The other, that of thanksgiving, need only be lightly 
 touched. For, 
 
 1. As to general inducements, they are the same, or very 
 like to those which apply to prayer ; it being plain, that what- 
 ever we are concerned to pray for, when we want it, for that 
 we are bound to thank God, when he vouchsafes to bestow it. 
 2. As for particular motives, no one can be ignorant or in- 
 sensible of the grand benefits by the divine goodness bestowed 
 on the king and on the nation, which this day call for grateful 
 acknowlegement. The recital therefore of trite stories and ob- 
 vious reasons being omitted, all are requested to practise this 
 duty, and to join in the concluding acclamations of praise and 
 thanksgiving to God.
 
 ON THE king's HAPPY RETURN. 223 
 
 SERMON X. 
 ON THE KING'S HAPPY RETURN. 
 
 I TIMOTHY, CHAP. II. — VERSES 1. 2. 
 
 I exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, inter- 
 cessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men : for kings, 
 and for all that are in authority. 
 
 Saint Paul in his preceding discourse having insinuated di- 
 rections to his scholar and spiritual son, Timothy, concerning 
 the discharge of his office, of instructing men in their duty ac- 
 cording to the evangelical doctrine ; (the main design whereof 
 he teacheth to consist, not (as some men conceited) in fond 
 stories, or ' vain speculations,' but in practice of substantial 
 duties, holding a ' sincere faith,' maintaining a * good con- 
 science,' performing offices of ' pure' and 'hearty charity;') 
 in pursuance of such general duty, and as a principal instance 
 thereof, he doth here ' first of all exhort,' or, doth * exhort that 
 first of all ' all kinds of devotion should be offered to God, 
 as for all men generally, so particularly for kings and ma- 
 gistrates. From whence we may collect two particulars. 1. 
 That the making of ' prayers for kings' is a Christian duty of 
 great importance. (St. Paul judging fit to exhort thereto 
 irpQrov irapTwv, ' before all other things ;' or to ' exhort that 
 before all things ' it should be performed.) 2. That it is in- 
 cumbent on the pastors of the church (such as St. Timothy was) 
 to take special care that this duty should be performed in the 
 church ; both publicly in the congregations, and privately in 
 the retirements of each Christian : according to what the Apos-
 
 224 BAKROW.— SERMON X. 
 
 tie, after the proposing divers enforcements of this duty, sub- 
 sumeth in the eighth verse ; ' I will therefore, that men pray- 
 everywhere, lifting up holy hands, \7ith0ut wrath or doubting.' 
 The first of these particulars, that it is a duty of great im- 
 portance ' to pray for kings,' I shall insist on : it being indeed 
 now very fit and seasonable to urge the practice of it, when it 
 is perhaps commonly not much considered, or not well ob- 
 served ; and when there is most need of it, in regard to the 
 effects and consequences which may proceed from the conscion- 
 able discharge of it. 
 
 My endeavor therefore shall be to press it by divers consi- 
 derations, discovering our obligation thereto, and serving to 
 induce us to its observance : some whereof shall be general, or 
 common to all times: some particular, or suitable to the present 
 circumstances of things. 
 
 I. The Apostle exhorteth Christians to ' pray for kings ' 
 with all sorts of prayer : with beijcteis, or * deprecations,' for 
 averting evils from them ; with Trpoaevx^al, or ' petitions,' for 
 obtaining good things to them ; with errev^ets, or ' occasional 
 intercessions,' for needful gifts and graces to be collated on 
 them : as, after St. Austin, interpreters, in expounding St. 
 Paul's words, commonly distinguish ; how accurately, I shall 
 not discuss : it sufficing, that assuredly the Apostle meaneth, 
 under this variety of expression, to comprehend all kinds of 
 prayer. And to this I say we are obliged on divers ac- 
 counts. 
 
 1. Common charity should dispose us to pray for kings. 
 This Christian disposition inclineth to universal benevolence 
 and beneficence ; according to that apostolical precept, ' as we 
 have opportunity, let us do good unto all men :' it consequently 
 will excite us to pray for all men ; seeing this is a way of ex- 
 erting good-will, and exercising beneficence, which any man at 
 any time, if he hath the will and heart, may have opportunity 
 and ability to pursue. 
 
 No man indeed otherwise can benefit all : few men other- 
 wise can benefit many : some men otherwise can benefit none : 
 but in this way any man is able to benefit all, or unconfinedly 
 to oblige mankind, deriving on any somewhat of God's immense 
 beneficence. By performing this good oflSce, at the expense of
 
 ON THE king's HAPPY RETURN. 2*25 
 
 a few good wishes addressed to the sovereign Goodness, the 
 poorest may prove benefactors to the richest, the meanest to the 
 highest, the weakest to the mightiest of men : so we may bene- 
 fit even those who are most remote from us, most strangers 
 and quite unknown to us. Our prayers can reach the utmost 
 ends of the earth ; and by them our charity may embrace all the 
 world. 
 
 And from them surely kings must not be excluded. For if, 
 because all men are our fellow-creatures, and brethren by the 
 same heavenly Father : because all men are allied to us by cog- 
 nation and similitude of nature ; because all men are the ob- 
 jects of God's particular favor and care : if, because all men 
 are partakers of the common redemption, by the undertakings 
 of him who is the common Mediator and Saviour of all men ; 
 and because all men, according to the gracious intent and de- 
 sire of God, are designed for a consortship in the same blessed 
 inheritance ; (which inforceraents St. Paul in the context doth 
 intimate :) if, in fine, because all men do need prayers, and are 
 capable of benefit from them, we should be charitably disposed 
 to pray for them : then must we also pray for kings, who, even 
 in their personal capacity, as men, do share in all those condi- 
 tions. Thus may we conceive St. Paul here to argue : ' for all 
 men,' saith he, 'for kings;' that is, consequently 'for kings,' 
 or particularly 'for kings;' to pray for whom, at least no 
 less than for other men, universal charity should dispose us. 
 
 Indeed, even on this account we may say, especially ' for 
 kings;' the law of general charity with peculiar advantage 
 being applicable to them : for that law commonly is expressed 
 with reference to our neighbor, that is, to persons with whom 
 we have to do, who come under our particular notice, who by 
 any intercourse are approximated to us ; and such are kings es- 
 pecially. For whereas the greatest part of men (by reason of 
 their distance from us, from the obscurity of their condition, or 
 for want of opportunity to converse with them) must needs slip 
 beside us, so that we cannot employ any distinct thought or 
 affection toward them : it is not so with kings, who by their 
 eminent and illustrious station become very observable by us; 
 with whom we have frequent transactions and mutual con- 
 cerns : who therefore in the strictest acception are our neigh-
 
 226 BARROW. — SERMON X. 
 
 bors, whom we are charged to love as ourselves; to whom con- 
 sequently we must perform this most charitable oflBce of praying 
 for them. 
 
 2. To impress which consideration, we may reflect that 
 commonly we have only this way granted us of exercising our 
 charity toward princes ; they being situated aloft above the 
 reach of private beneficence :* so that we cannot enrich them, 
 or relieve them by our alms ; we cannot help to exalt or prefer 
 them to a better state ; we can hardly come to impart good ad- 
 vice, seasonable consolation, or wholesome reproof to them ; 
 we cannot profit or please them by familiar conversation. For 
 as in divers other respects they resemble the Divinity ; so in 
 this they are like it, that we may say to them, as the psalmist 
 to God, ' thou art my Lord ; my goodness extendeth not to 
 thee.' Yet this case may be reserved, wherein the poorest soul 
 may benefit the greatest prince, imparting the richest and 
 choicest goods to him : he may be indebted for his safety, for 
 the prosperity of his affairs, for God's mercy and favor toward 
 him, to the prayers of his meanest vassal. And thus to oblige 
 princes, methinks, we should be very desirous ; we should be 
 glad to use such an advantage, we should be ambitious of such 
 an honor. 
 
 3. We are bound to pray for kings out of charity to the pub- 
 lic ; because their good is a general good, and the communities 
 of men (both church and state) are greatly concerned in the 
 blessings by prayer derived on them. 
 
 The safety of a prince is a great part of the common wel- 
 fare ; the commonwealth, as it were, living and breathing in 
 him : his fall, like that of a tall cedar, (to which he is com- 
 pared,) shaking the earth and discomposing the state ; putting 
 things out of course, and drawing them into new channels; 
 translating the administration of affairs into untried hands, and 
 an uncertain condition. Hence, ' let the king live,' (which 
 our translators render, ' God save the king,') was an usual form 
 
 * Privatornm ista copia est, inler se esse munificos. — Auson. ad 
 Gratian. 
 
 Absit, Au^uste, et istiid sancta divinitas omen averlat, ut tu a 
 quoquam morfalium expectes viccm bencficii — Mauierc. ad Julian.
 
 ON THE KING*S HAPPY RETURN. 227 
 
 of salutation or prayer: and, ' O king live for ever,' was a 
 customary address to princes, whereto the best men did con- 
 form, even in application to none of the best princes ; as Nehe- 
 miah to king Artaxerxes, and Daniel to king Darius. Hence 
 not only good king David is called ' the light of Israel ;' (' Thou 
 shalt not,' said Abishai, ' any more go out with us to battle, 
 that thou quench not the light of Israel ;') but even the wicked 
 and perverse king Zedekiah is by the prophet Jeremy himself 
 (who had been so misused by him) styled ' the breath of our 
 nostrils.' (' The breath,' saith he, ' of our nostrils, the anointed 
 of the Lord, was taken in their pits.') Hence not only the fall 
 of good king Josiah was so grievously lamented ; but a solemn 
 mourning was due to that of Saul ; and, ' Ye daughters of Je- 
 rusalem, weep for Saul,' was a strain becoming the mouth of 
 his great successor king David. Hence the primitive Chris- 
 tians, who could not be constrained to swear by the genius of 
 Caesar, did not yet, in compliance with the usual practice, 
 scruple to swear by their health or safety :* that is, to express 
 their wishing it, with appeal to God's testimony of their since- 
 rity therein ; as Joseph may be conceived to have sworn ' by 
 the life of Pharaoh.' Hence well might the people tell king 
 David, ' Thou art worth ten thousand of us ;' seeing the public 
 was so much interested in his safety, and had suft'ered more in 
 the loss of him, than if a myriad of others had miscarried. 
 
 This honor likewise of a prince is the glory of his people ; 
 seeing it is founded on qualities or deeds tending to their ad- 
 vantage ; seeing it can hardly be supposed that he should ac- 
 quire honor without their aid and concurrence, or that he should 
 retain it without their support and their satisfaction. And as 
 the chief grace and beauty of a body is in the head, and the 
 fairest ornaments of the whole are placed there ; so is any 
 commonwealth most dignified and beautified by the reputation 
 of its prince. 
 
 The wealth and power of a prince are the supports and se- 
 curities of a state ; he thereby being enabled to uphold and 
 <lefend its safety, its order, its peace ; to protect his people 
 
 * Sed et juramus, sicut non per gonios C;t'sarum, ita per salutcuj 
 eoruni, quae est augustior omnibus geniis. — Teit. Apol. cap. xxxii.
 
 228 BARROW. — SERMON X. 
 
 from foreign injuries and invasions; to secure them from in- 
 testine broils and factions; to repress outrages and oppressions 
 annoying them. 
 
 The prosperity of a prince is inseparable from the prosperity 
 of his people ; they ever partaking of his fortunes, and thriving 
 or suffering with him. For as when the sun shineth brightly, 
 there is a clear day, and fair weather over the world ; so when 
 a prince is not overclouded with adversity or disastrous occur- 
 rences, the public state must be serene, and a pleasant state of 
 things will appear. Then is the ship in a good condition, when 
 the pilot in open sea, with full sails and a brisk gale, cheerfully 
 steereth on toward his designed port. 
 
 Especially the piety and goodness of a prince is of vast con- 
 sequence, and yieldeth infinite benefit to his country. For, 
 vita principis censura est ; the life of a prince is a calling of 
 other men's lives to an account. His example hath an unspeak- 
 able influence on the manners of his people, who are apt in all 
 his garb and every fashion to imitate him.* His practice is 
 more powerful than his commands, and often doth control 
 them. His authority hath the great stroke in encouraging vir- 
 tue, and checking vice, if it bendeth that way ; the dispensa- 
 tion of honors and rewards, with the infliction of ignominies 
 and corrections, being in his hand, and passing from it accord- 
 ing to his inclinations. His power is the shield of innocence, 
 the fence of right, the shelter of weakness and simplicity 
 against violences and frauds. His very look (a smile or a frown 
 of his countenance) is sufficient to advance goodness, and sup- 
 press wickedness ; according to that of Solomon, * A king 
 sitting in the throne of judgment scattereth away all evil Avith 
 his eyes.' His goodness pleasing God procureth his favor, and 
 therewith deduceth from heaven all kinds of blessings on his 
 
 * Flexibiles in quanicnncpie partem ducimur a principe, atqne, 
 ut lla rlicam, sequaces sumus. Huic enim chaii, huic probati esse 
 cupimus ; quod frustra speraverint dissimiles. Eoque obsequii con- 
 linuatione pervenimus, ut prope omnes homines uuius moiibus vi- 
 vamus. — Pliii. Paneg. 
 
 Vita principis censura est, eaque perpetua ; ad hanc dirigimur, ad 
 banc convertimur ; nee tarn imperio nobis opus est quam exemplo. — 
 Ibid.
 
 ON THE KINGS HAPPY RETURN. 229 
 
 people. And if those politic aphorisms of the wise man be 
 true, that ' righteousness exalteth a nation and establisheth a 
 throne ;' that ' when it goeth well with the righteous, the city 
 rejoiceth ;' and ' the same by the blessing of the upright is ex- 
 alted :' then on his inclinations to virtue the advancement and 
 stability of public welfare do mainly depend. So, for instance, 
 how did piety florish in the times of David, who loved, favored, 
 and practised it! and what abundance of prosperity did attend 
 it ! What showers of blessings (what peace, what wealth, what 
 credit and glory) did God then pour down on Israel ! Plow 
 did the goodness of that prince transmit favors and mercies on 
 his country till a long time after his decease ! How often did 
 God profess * for his servant David's sake' to preserve Judah 
 from destruction ; so that even in the days of Hezekiah, when 
 the king of Assyria did invade that country, God by the mouth 
 of Isaiah declared, ' I will defend this city to save it for mine 
 own sake, and for my servant David's sake.' 
 
 We may indeed observe that, according to the representa- 
 tion of things in holy Scripture, there is a kind of moral con- 
 nexion, or a communication of merit and guilt, between prince 
 and people ; so that mutually each of them is rewarded for the 
 virtues, each is punished for the vices of the other. As for the 
 iniquities of a people, God withdraweth from their prince the 
 free communications of his grace and of his favor, (suffering 
 him to incur sin, or to fall into misfortune ; which was the 
 case of that incomparably good king Josiah, and hath been the 
 fate of divers excellent princes, whom God hath snatched away 
 from people unworthy of them, or involved with such a people 
 in common calamities; according to the rule propounded in the 
 law, of God's dealing with the Israelites in the case of their 
 disobedience; and according to that of Samuel, * If ye shall 
 do wickedly, ye shall be consumed, both ye and your king:') 
 so reciprocally, for the misdemeanors of princes, (or in them, 
 and by them,) God doth chastise their people. For what con- 
 fusions in Israel did the oft'ences of Solomon create ! What 
 mischiefs did issue thereon from Jeroboam's wicked behavior ! 
 How did the sins of Manasseh stick to his country, since that, 
 even after that notable reformation wrought by Josiah, it is 
 sajd, ' Notwithstanding the Lord turned not from the fierceness
 
 230 Barrow.—sermon x. 
 
 of his great wrath, wherewith his anger was kindled against 
 Judah, because of all the provocations wherewith Manasseh 
 had provoked him !' And how sorely, by a tedious three 
 years famine, did God avenge Saul's cruelty toward the 
 Gibeonites ! 
 
 Nor are only the sins of bad princes affixed to people con- 
 spiring with them in impiety ; for even of king Hezekiah it is 
 said, ' But Hezekiah rendered not again according to the be- 
 nefit done unto him; for his heart was lifted up: therefore 
 there was wrath on him, and on Judah and Jerusalem.' So 
 the pride and ingratitude of an excellent prince were avenged 
 on his subjects. And when good king David (God averting 
 his grace from him) did fall into that arrogant transgression of 
 counting his forces, that, as Joab prudently foretold, became 
 ' a cause of trespass to Israel ;' and ' God,' saith the text, * was 
 displeased with this thing ; therefore he smote Israel.' 
 
 David indeed seemed to apprehend some iniquity in this 
 proceeding, expostulating thus, ' Is it not I that commanded 
 the people to be numbered ? even I it is that have sinned and 
 done evil indeed : but as for these sheep, what have they done?' 
 But God had no regard to his plea, nor returned any answer 
 to it ; for indeed God's wrath began with the people, and their 
 king's sin was but a judgment executed on them; for 'the 
 anger,' it is said, ' of the Lord was kindled against Israel,' (by 
 their sin surely, which is the only incentive of divine wrath,) 
 ' and he moved David against them to say, Go, number Israel 
 and Judah.' 
 
 So indeed it is that princes are bad, that they incur great 
 errors, or commit notable trespasses, is commonly imputable to 
 the fault of subjects; and is a just judgment by divine provi- j 
 dence laid on them, as for other provocations, so especially for 
 their want of devotion, and neglecting duly to pray for them. 
 For if they constantly, with hearty sincerity and earnest fer- 
 vency, would in their behalf sue to God, who ' fashioneth all 
 the hearts of men,' who especially holdeth ' the hearts of kings 
 in his hand, and turneth them whithersoever he will ;' we rea- 
 sonably might presume that God by his grace would direct 
 them into the right way, and incline their hearts to goodness ; 
 that he would accomplish his own word in the prophet, ' I will
 
 ON THE king's HAPPY RETURN. 231 
 
 make thy oflScers peace, and thine exactors righteousness:' that 
 we might have occasion to pay thanksgivings like that of Ezra, 
 ' Blessed be the Lord God of our fathers, who hath put such 
 things as this in the king's heart, to beautify the house of the 
 Lord which is in Jerusalem.' 
 
 We are apt to impute the ill management of things, and the 
 bad success waiting on it, unto princes, being in appearance 
 the immediate agents and instruments of it : but we commonly 
 do therein mistake, not considering that ourselves are most 
 guilty, and blameable for it: that it is an impious people which 
 maketh an unhappy prince ; that their offences do pervert his 
 counsels, and blast his undertakings; that their profaneness 
 and indevotion do incense God's displeasure, and cause him to 
 desert princes, withdrawing his gracious conduct from them, 
 and permitting them to be misled by temptation, by ill advice, 
 by their own infirmities, lusts, and passions, into courses fit to 
 punish a naughty people. So these were the causes of Moses's 
 ' speaking unadvisedly with his lips,' and that ' it went ill with 
 him for their sakes;' of Aaron's forming the molten calf; of 
 David's numbering the people; of Josiah's unadvised enter- 
 prise against Pharaoh Neco ; of Zedekiah's rebellion against 
 the Assyrians, (notwithstanding the strong dissuasions of the 
 prophet Jeremy;) concerning which it is said, 'for through 
 the anger of the Lord it came to pass in Jerusalem and Judah, 
 until he had cast them out from his presence, that Zedekiah 
 rebelled against the king of Babylon.' 
 
 Considering which things it is apparent that prayer for our 
 prince is a great office of charity to the public ; and that in 
 praying for his safety, for his honor, for his wealth, for his 
 prosperity, for his virtue, we do in effect pray for the same 
 benefits respectively to our country ; that in praying for his 
 welfare, we do in consequence pray for the good of all our 
 neighbors, our friends, our relations, our families ; whose good 
 is wrapped in his welfare, doth flow from it, doth hang on it. 
 
 We are bound, and it is a very noble piece of charity, to 
 love our country, sincerely to desire and earnestly to further its 
 happiness, and therefore to pray for it ; according to the advice 
 and practice of the psalmist : ' O pray for the peace of Jeru- 
 salem; they shall prosper that love thee. Peace be within
 
 232 BARROW.— SERMON X. 
 
 thy walls, and prosperity within thy palaces,' We are obliged 
 more especially on the highest accounts, with dearest affection 
 to love the church, (our heavenly commonwealth, the society 
 of our spiritual brethren,) most ardently to tender its good, and 
 seek its advantages ; and therefore most urgently to sue for 
 God's favor toward it ; being ready to say after David, ' Do 
 good, O God, in thy good pleasure to Sioa : build thou the 
 walls of Jerusalem.' 'Arise, O Lord, and have mercy on Sion ; 
 for the time to favor her, yea the set time is come.' Now 
 these duties we cannot more easily, more compendiously, or 
 more effectually discharge, than by earnestly praying for our 
 prince; seeing that if we do by our prayers procure God's 
 favor to him, we do certainly draw it on the state, and the 
 church. If God, moved by our devout importunities, shall 
 please to guard his person from dangers, and to ' grant him a 
 long life ;' to endue his heart with grace, with the love and 
 fear of himself, with a zeal of furthering public good, of favor- 
 ing piety, of discountenancing sin ; if God shall vouchsafe to 
 inspire him with wisdom, and to guide his counsels, to bless his 
 proceedings, and to crown his undertakings with good success : 
 then assuredly we have much promoted the public interest ; 
 then infallibly, together with these, all other blessings shall 
 descend on us, all good will flourish in our land. This was the 
 ancient practice of Christians, and directed to this end. For 
 ' we,' saith Lactantius to Constantine, ' with daily prayers do 
 supplicate God, that he would lii-st of all keep thee, whom he 
 hath willed to be the keeper of things ; then that he would 
 inspire into thee a will, whereby thou mayest ever persevere in 
 the love of God's name ; which is salutary to all, both to thee 
 for thy happiness, and to us for our quiet.'* 
 
 4. Wherefore consequently our own interest and charity to 
 ourselves should dispose us to pray for our prince. ^^ e being 
 nearly concerned in his welfare, as parts of the public, and as 
 enjoying many private advantages thereby ; we cannot but 
 
 * Ciii nos quotidianis precibus supj)licamus, ut te imprimis, quern 
 rerum custodem voluit esse, custodiat; delude inspiret tibi volunta- 
 tem, qua semper in amore divini nominis perseveres; quod est om- 
 nibus salutare, et tibi ad felicitatera, et nobis ad quictem. — Lact. 
 vii. 26. 

 
 ON THE king's HAPPY RETURN. 233 
 
 partake of his good, we cannot but suffer with him. "VVe 
 cannot live quietly, if our prince is disturbed ; we cannot live 
 happily, if he be unfortunate ; we can hardly live virtuously, 
 if divine grace do not incline him to favor us therein, or at least 
 restrain him from hindering us. This is St. Paul's own con- 
 sideration : ' I exhort you,' saith he, * to make prayers for 
 kings — that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all 
 godliness and honesty.' On such an account God did com- 
 mand the Jews to pray for the welfare of that heathen state, 
 under which they lived in captivity. ' And seek,' said he, ' the 
 peace of the city whither I have caused you to be carried away 
 captives, aiid pray unto the Lord for it : for in the peace 
 thereof shall ye have peace.' And for the like cause the 
 Christians of old deemed themselves bound to pray for the 
 Gentile magistrates; according to that of TertuUian : 'We 
 pray for you, because with you the empire is shaken ; and the 
 other members of it being shaken, assuredly even we, how far 
 soever we may be thought from troubles, are found in some 
 place of the fall.'* Farther, 
 
 5. Let us consider that subjects are obliged in gratitude 
 and ingenuity, yea in equity and justice, to pray for their 
 princes. For, 
 
 They are most nearly related to us, and allied by the most 
 sacred bands ; being constituted by God, in his own room, the 
 parents and guardians of their country ; being also avowed and 
 accepted for such by solemn vows, and most holy sacraments of 
 allegiance ; whence unto them as such we owe an humble 
 piety, a very respectful affection, a most dutiful observance ;f 
 the which we cannot better express or exercise, than in our 
 heartiest prayers for their welfare. 
 
 • Vobiscum enim concutitur imperium: concussis etiam cfcteris 
 nicmbris ejus, ulifjue et nos, licet extranei a turbis sestinieniur, in 
 aIic|uo loco casus invenimur. — Tert. Apol. cap. xxxil. 
 
 t Quem sciens (Christianus) a Deo suo constilui, necesse est, ut 
 et ipsum diligat, ct revoreatur, et honoret, et salvum velit. — Tert. 
 ad Scap. ii. 
 
 Jurat per Deum, et per Christum, et per Spiritum S. et per ma- 
 jestatem impcratoris, quae secundum Deum generi Lumano dili- 
 ;enda est, et colenda. — Veget. ii. 5.
 
 234 BARROW. — SERMON X. 
 
 They by God are destined to be the protectors of the church, 
 the patrons of religion, the fosterers and cherishers of truth, of 
 virtue, of piety : for of the church in the evangelical times it 
 was prophesied, ' Kings shall be thy nursing fathers ;' * thou 
 shalt suck the breasts of kings ; kings shall minister to thee :' 
 'wherefore to them, not only as men and citizens, but peculi- 
 arly as Christians, we owe the highest duty ; and conse- 
 quently we must pay the best devotion for them. 
 
 To them we stand indebted for the greatest benefits of com- 
 mon life : they necessarily do take much care, they undergo 
 great trouble, they are exposed to many hazards for our advan- 
 tages; that ' under their shadow' we may enjoy safety and quiet, 
 we may reap the fruits of our industry, we may possess the 
 comforts and conveniences of our life, with security from rapine, 
 from contention, from solicitude, from the continual fears of 
 wrong and outrage. 
 
 To their industry and vigilancy under God we owe the fair 
 administration of justice, the protection of right and innocence, 
 the preservation of order and peace, the encouragement of 
 goodness, and correction of wickedness : for they, as the 
 Apostle telleth us, ' are God's ministers, attending continually 
 on these very things.' They indeed so attend as to deny them- 
 selves, and so forego much of their own ease, their pleasure, 
 their satisfaction ; being frequently perplexed with cares, con- 
 tinually enslaved to business, and subject to various incon- 
 veniences, rendering their life to considerate spectators very 
 little desirable. 
 
 As therefore, according to our Lord's observation, they are 
 usually styled benefactors, so they really are ; even the worst 
 of them (such as Claudius, or Nero, of whom our Apostles 
 speak) in considerable measure; at least in comparison of 
 anarchy, and considering the mischiefs issuing from want of 
 government. Ov KoXaiceia earl to npay/ia' ' The matter is not 
 flattery ;' (saith St. Chrysostom,* himself of all men farthest 
 from a flatterer;) * but according to the reason of the case' we 
 must esteem ourselves much obliged to them for the pains they 
 sustain in our behalf, and for thebeneflts we receive from them. 
 
 * Chrys. in 1 Tim. ii. 1.
 
 ON THE king's HAPPY RETURN. 235 
 
 For he indeed must be a very bad governor, to whom that 
 speech of the orator TertuUus may not without glozing be 
 accommodated : * Seeing that by thee we enjoy great quietness, 
 and that very worthy deeds are done unto this nation by thy 
 providence, we accept it always, and in all places, most noble 
 Felix, with all thankfulness,' 
 
 However, what Seneca saith of philosophers, that * they of 
 all men are most obliged, and most grateful to kings and magis- 
 trates, because from their care they enjoy the leisure, quiet, 
 and security of contemplating and practising the best things; 
 on which account,' saith he, * they could not but reverence the 
 authors of so great a good as parents;'* that is, or should be, 
 far more true of Christians. 'That leisure (to use his words) 
 which is spent with God, and which rendereth us like to God ;'t 
 the liberty of studying divine truth, and of serving God with 
 security and quiet ; are inestimable benefits, for the which they 
 are indebted to the protection of magistrates : therefore in all 
 reason a grateful retribution of good will, and of all good offices, 
 particularly of our prayers, is to be paid to them. * Is it not 
 very absurd,' saith St. Chrysostom, 'that they should labor 
 and venture for us, and we not pray for them?' 
 
 6. Whereas we are by divine command frequently enjoined to 
 fear and reverence, to honor, to obey kings ; we should look 
 on prayer for them as a principal branch, and the neglect 
 thereof as a notable breach of those duties. For, 
 
 As to honor and reverence, it is plain that no exterior signi- 
 fication, in ceremonious unveiling or cringing to them, can so 
 demonstrate it, as doth the wishing them well in our hearts, 
 and from thence framing particular addresses to the divine Ma- 
 jesty for their welfare. Than which practice there can be no 
 surer argument that we hold them in great account and consi- 
 deration. And how indeed can we much honor them, for 
 
 * Nulli adversus magistratus ac reges gratiores sunt ; nee imme- 
 rito, nullis enim plus praestant, quam quibns frui tranquillo olio li- 
 cet. Itaque hi quibus ad propositum bene vivuiidi coufert sccuri- 
 tas publica, necesse est auctorem hujus boni ut parciiteiu colaut. — 
 Sen. Ep. 73. 
 
 t Quanti aestimamus hoc otium, quod inter Decs agitur, quod 
 Deos facit? — Ibid.
 
 236 BARROW.— SERMON X. 
 
 whom we do not vouchsafe so much as to offer our good wishes, 
 or to mention them in our intercessions unto him, who requireth 
 us to make them for all men, and particularly for those for 
 %vhom we are concerned ? Doth not this omission evidently 
 place them in the lowest rank, beneath the meanest of our friends 
 and relations ? doth it not imply a very slender regard had to 
 them? 
 
 And as for obedience, prayer for princes is clearly an instance 
 thereof ; seeing it may be supposed that all princes do require 
 it from their subjects. Not only Christian princes, who believe 
 God the sole dispenser of all good things, and the great efficacy 
 of devotion in procuring them from him, may be deemed to 
 exact this beneficial office from us ; but even heathens and in- 
 fidels, from their dim notion of a sovereign Providence, (which 
 hath ever been common in the world,) have made an account of 
 this practice ; as we may see by that decree of the Persian king 
 in Ezra, charging his officers to furnish the Jewish elders with 
 sacrifices, ' that,' said he, ' they may offer sacrifices of sweet 
 savor unto the God of heaven, and pray for the life of the king 
 and of his sons.' And that such was the practice of the Ro- 
 mans even in their heathenish state, doth appear from those 
 words of Pliny : " we have," saith he, "been wont to make 
 vows for the eternity of the empire, and for the welfare of the 
 citizens ; yea, for the welfare of the princes, and in their behalf 
 for the eternity of the empire."* 
 
 Not only pious princes with a serious desire will expect this 
 duty from us ; but even profane ones in policy will demand it, 
 as a decent testimony of respect to them, and a proper means 
 of upholding their state ; that they may seem to have place 
 in the most serious regards and solemn performances of their 
 subjects. So that to neglect this duty is ever a violation 
 of our due obedience, and a kind of disloyalty to them. 
 Again, 
 
 7. The praying for princes is a service peculiarly honorable, 
 and very acceptable to God ; which he will interpret as a great 
 
 • Nuncupare vota et pro aeternitate imperii, et pro salute civinm, 
 imo pro salute principum, ac propter illos pro aeternitate imperii, 
 solebamus. — Plin. Paneg.
 
 ON THE king's HAPPY RETURN. 237 
 
 respect done to himself ; for that thereby we honor his image 
 and character in them, yielding in his presence this special re- 
 spect to them as his representatives ; for that thereby we avow 
 his government of the world by them as his ministers and depu- 
 ties ; for that thereby we acknowlege all power derived from 
 him, and depending on his pleasure ; we ascribe to him an au- 
 thority paramount above all earthly potentates; we imply our 
 persuasion that he alone is absolute sovereign of the world, 
 * the King of kings, and Lord of lords,' so that princes are no- 
 thing otherwise than in subordination to him, can do nothing 
 without his succor, do owe to him all their power, their safety, 
 their prosperity, and welfare;* for that, in fine, thereby dis- 
 claiming all other confidences ' in any son of man,' we signify 
 our intire submission to God's will, and sole confidence in his 
 providence. This service therefore is a very grateful kind of 
 adoring our almighty Lord ; and as such St, Paul recom- 
 mendeth it in the words immediately subjoined to our text, • For 
 this,' saith he, ' is good and acceptable in the sight of God our 
 Saviour.' 
 
 8. Let us consider that whereas wisdom, guiding our piety 
 and charity, will especially incline us to place our devotion 
 there where it will be most needful and useful ; we therefore 
 chiefly must pray for kings because they do most need our 
 prayers. 
 
 The office is most high, and hard to discharge well or happily ; 
 wherefore they need extraordinary supplies of gifts and graces 
 from the divine bounty. 
 
 Their affairs are of greatest weight and importance, requiring 
 answerable skill and strength to steer and wield them : where- 
 fore they need from the fountain of wisdom and power special 
 communications of light, of courage, of ability, to conduct, to 
 support, to fortify them in their managements ; they need that 
 God should 'uphold them' irvtvfxaTi yye/ioviKw, with 'that 
 princely spirit,' for which king David prayed. 
 ; They often are to deliberate about matters of dark and un- 
 f certain consequence : they are to judge in cases of dubious and 
 
 ! • Tcmperans majcstafem Caesaris infra Deum, magis ilium com- 
 [ mendo Deo. — Tert. Apol. cap. xxxiii.
 
 238 BARROW. — SERMON X. 
 
 intricate nature ; the which to resolve prudently, or to deter- 
 mine uprightly, no human wisdom suflSciently can enable : 
 wherefore they need ' the spirit of counsel,' and ' the spirit of 
 judgment,' from the sole dispenser of them, the great ' Coun- 
 sellor ' and most ' righteous Judge.' The wisest and ablest of 
 them hath reason to pray with Solomon, ' Give thy servant an 
 understanding heart, to judge thy people, that I may discern 
 between good and bad: for who is able to judge this thy so 
 great a people ?' That so what the wise man saith may be 
 verified, ' A divine sentence is in the lips of the king, his mouth 
 transgresseth not in judgment :' and that of the wise woman, 
 ' As an angel of God, so is my lord the king, to discern good and 
 bad.' 
 
 They commonly are engaged in enterprises of greatest diffi- 
 culty, insuperable by the might or industry of man ; in regard 
 to which we may say with Hannah, * by strength shall no man 
 prevail;' with the preacher, * the race is not to the swift, nor 
 the battle to the strong ;' with the psalmist, ' there is no king 
 saved by the multitude of an host :' wherefore they need aid and 
 succor from the Almighty, to carry them through, and bless 
 their designs with success. 
 
 They are most exposed to dangers and disasters ; (standing 
 like high towers, most obnoxious to the winds and tempests of 
 fortune ;) having usually many envious ill-willers, many disaf- 
 fected malecontents, many both open enemies and close insidia- 
 tors ; from whose force or treachery no human providence can 
 sufficiently guard them : they do therefore need the protection 
 of the ever-vigilant ' Keeper of Israel ' to secure them : for, 
 ' except the Lord keepeth the city, the watchman waketh but 
 in vain ;' except the Lord preserve the king, his guards, his 
 armies surround him to no purpose. 
 
 They have the natural infirmities of other men, and far be- 
 yond other men are subject to external temptations. The 
 malicious spirit (as in the case of Job, of David, of Ahab, of 
 Joshua the high priest, is expressed) is ever waiting for occasion, 
 ever craving permission of God to seduce and pervert tliem ; 
 success therein being extremely conducible to his villainous de- 
 signs. The world continually doth assault them with all its 
 advantages, with all its baits of pleasure, with all its intice-
 
 ON THE king's HAPPY RETURN. 230 
 
 ments to pride and vanity, to oppression and injustice, to sloth, 
 to luxury, to exorbitant self-will and self-conceit, to every sort 
 of vicious practice. Their erainency of state, their affluence of 
 wealth, their uncontrollable power, their exemption from com- 
 mon restraints, their continual distractions and incumbrances by 
 varieties of care and business, their multitude of obsequious fol- 
 lowers, and scarcity of faithful friends to advise or reprove them, 
 their having no obstacles before them to check their wills, to 
 cross their humors, to curb their lusts and passions, are so many 
 dangerous snares unto them : wherefore they do need plentiful 
 measures of grace, and mighty assistances from God, to pre- 
 serve them from the worst errors and sins ; into which other- 
 wise it is almost a miracle if they are not plunged. 
 
 And being they are so liable to sin, they must consequently 
 stand often in need of God's mercy to bear with theni, and to 
 pardon them. 
 
 They therefore, on so many accounts needing special help 
 and grace from heaven, do most need prayers to derive it 
 thence for them. 
 
 All princes indeed do need them. Good princes need many 
 prayers for God's help, to uphold and confirm them in their 
 virtue : bad princes need deprecations of God's wrath and judg- 
 ment toward them for offending his Majesty ; together with 
 supplications for God's grace to convert and reform them : the 
 most desperate and incorrigible need prayers, that God would 
 overrule and restrain them from doing mischief to themselves 
 and others. All princes having many avocations and tempta- 
 tions, hindering them to pray enough for themselves, do need 
 supplemental aids from the devotions of others. 
 
 Wherefore if we love them, if we love our country, if we 
 love ourselves, if we tender the interests of truth, of piety, of 
 common good, we, considering their case, and manifold need 
 of prayers, will not fail earnestly to sue for them ; that God 
 would afford needful assistance to them in the administration 
 of their high oiEce, in the improvement of their great talents, 
 in the conduct and management of their arduous affairs ; that 
 he graciously would direct them in their perplexed counsels, 
 would back them in their difficult undertakings, would protect 
 their persons from dangers, would keep their hearts from the
 
 ^0 BARROW. — SERMON X. 
 
 prevalency of temptations, would pardon their failings and 
 trespasses. Again, 
 
 9. AVhereas God hath declared that he hath special regard 
 to princes, and a more than ordinary care over them, because 
 they have a peculiar relation to him as his representatives, the 
 ' ministers of his kingdom,' the main instruments of his provi- 
 dence, whereby he conveyeth his favors, and dispenseth his 
 justice to men ; because also the good of mankind, which he 
 especially tendereth, is mainly concerned in their welfare ; 
 whereas, I say, ' it is he that giveth salvation unto kings;' that 
 ' giveth great deliverance to his king, and showeth mercy to his 
 anointed ;' that hath * the king's heart, and his breath,' and 
 * all his ways in his hand :' even on this account our prayers 
 for them are the more required. For it is a method of God, 
 and an established rule of divine providence, not to dispense 
 special blessings without particular conditions, and the concur- 
 rence of our duty in observance of what he prescribeth in re- 
 spect to them. Seeing then he hath enjoined that, in order 
 to our obtaining those great benefits which issue from his special 
 care over princes, we should pray for it, and seek it from his 
 liands ; the omission of this duty will intercept it, or bereave 
 us of its advantages ; nor in that case may we expect any bles- 
 sings of that kind. As without praying for ourselves we must 
 not expect private favors from heaven ; so without praying for 
 our prince we cannot well hope for public blessings. For, as 
 a profane person (who in effect disavoweth God by not regard- 
 ing to seek his favor and aid) is not qualified to receive any 
 good from him ; so a profane nation (which disclaimeth God's 
 government of the world by not invoking his benediction on 
 those who moderate it under him) is not well capable of com- 
 mon benefits. It is on all accounts true which Ezra said, ' The 
 hand of our God is on all them for good that seek him : but 
 his power and his wrath is against all them that forsake him.' 
 If therefore we desire that our prince should not lose Gods 
 special regard, if we would not forfeit the benefits thereof to 
 ourselves, we must conspire in hearty prayers for him. 
 
 10. To engage and encourage us in which practice, we may 
 farther consider that such prayers, offered duly, (with fre- 
 .quency and constancy, with sincerity and zeal,) do always turn
 
 ON THE king's HAPPY RETURN. 241 
 
 to good account, and never want good effect : the which, if it 
 be not always easily discernible, yet it is certainly real ; if it 
 be not perfect as we may desire, yet it is competent, as expe- 
 diency requireth, or as the condition of things will bear. 
 
 There may be impediments to a full success of the best 
 prayers ; they may not ever prevail to render princes com- 
 pletely good or extremely prosperous : for some concurrence of 
 their own will is requisite to produce their virtue, God rarely 
 working with irresistible power or fatal efficacy ; and the state 
 of things, or capacities of persons, are not always fitly suited 
 for prosperity. Yet are not such prayers ever v.'holly vain or 
 fruitless ; for God never prescribeth means unavailable to the 
 end : he never would have commanded us particularly to pray 
 for kings, if he did not mean to bestow a good issue to that 
 practice. 
 
 And surely he that hath promised to hear all requests, 
 with faith and sincerity and incessant earnestness presented to 
 him, cannot fail to hear those which are of such consequence, 
 which are so agreeable to his will, which do include so much 
 honesty and charity. In this case, surely, we may have some 
 confidence, according to that of St. John, ' This is the confi- 
 dence we have in him, that, if we ask any thing according to 
 his will, he heareth us.' 
 
 As the good bishop, observing St. Austin's mother, with 
 what constancy and passionateness she did pray for her son, 
 being then engaged in ways of error and vanity, did encourage 
 her, saying, ' It is impossible that a son of those devotions 
 should perish ;' so may we hopefully presume, and encourage 
 ourselves, that a prince will not miscarry, for whose welfare 
 many good people do earnestly solicit : Fieri non potest, ut 
 princeps istarum lacrymarum pereat. 
 
 You know in general the mighty efficacy of prayer ; what 
 pregnant assurances there are, and how wonderful instances 
 thereof occur in holy Scripture, both in relation to public and 
 private blessings : how it is often promised, that ' all things, 
 whatsoever we shall ask in prayer believing, we shall receive ;' 
 and that ' whoever asketh receiveth, and he that seeketh find- 
 eth, and to him that knocketh it shall be opened:' how the 
 prayer of Abraham did heal Abinielech and his family of bar- 
 
 BAR. VOL. I. L
 
 242 BARROW, — SERMON X. 
 
 renness; how the prayers of Moses did quench the fire, and 
 cure the bitings of the fiery serpents ; how the prayer of Joshua 
 did arrest the sun ; how the prayer of Hannah did procure 
 Samuel to her, as his name doth import; how Elias's prayers 
 did open and shut the heavens ; how the same holy prophet's 
 prayer did reduce a departed soul, and that of Elisha did effect 
 the same, and that of another prophet did restore Jeroboam's 
 withered hand ; how the prayers of God's people frequently did 
 'raise them up saviours,' and ' when they cried unto the Lord 
 in their trouble, he delivered them out of their distresses :' how 
 the prayers of Asa discomfited a million of Arabians, and those 
 of Jehoshaphat destroyed a numerous army of his enemies by 
 their own hands, and those of Hezekiah brought down an angel 
 from heaven to cut oft" the Assyrians, and those of Manasses 
 restored him to his kingdom, and those of Esther saved her 
 people from the brink of ruin, and those of Nehemiah inclined 
 a pagan king's heart to favor his pious design for re-edifying 
 Jerusalem, and those of Daniel obtained strange visions and 
 discoveries. How Noah, Job, Daniel, Moses, and Samuel 
 are represented as powerful intercessors with God ; and conse- 
 quently it is intimated, that the great things achieved by them 
 were chiefly done by the force of their prayers. 
 
 And seeing prayers in so many cases are so effectual, and 
 work such miracles ; what may we hope from them in this, 
 wherein God so expressly and particularly directeth us to use 
 them ? If our prayers can so much avail to our personal and 
 private advantage, if they may be very helpful to our friends ; 
 how much shall the devotions of many good men, all levelled 
 at one mark, and aiming at a public most considerable good, 
 be prevalent with the divine goodness ? However, if God be 
 not moved by prayers to convert a prince from all sin, to make 
 him do all the good he might, to bless him in all matters ; yet 
 he may thence be induced to restrain him from much evil, to 
 keep him from being worse, or from doing worse than otherwise 
 would be ; he may dispose him to do many things well, or bet- 
 ter than of himself he would do ; he may preserve him from 
 many disasters otherwise incident to him : which will be consi- 
 derable eff"ects of prayer. 
 
 11. I shall add but one general consideration more, which is
 
 ON THE king's HAPPY RETURN. 243 
 
 this, that prayer is the only allowable way of redressing our 
 case, if we do suffer by or for princes. 
 
 Are they bad, or do they misdemean themselves in their 
 administration of government and justice ? we may not by 
 any violent or rough way attempt to reclaim them ; for ihey 
 are not accountable to us, or liable to our correction. ' Where 
 the word of a king is, there is power: and who shall say to 
 him. What doest thou ?' was the preacher's doctrine. 
 
 Do they oppress us, or abuse us ? do they treat us harshly, 
 or cruelly persecute us? we must not kick against them, nor 
 strive to right ourselves by resistance. For, ' against a king,' 
 saith the wise man, ' there is no rising up :' and, ' who,' said 
 David, ' can stretch out his hand against the Lord's anointed, 
 and be guiltless?' And, 'they,' saith St. Paul, ' that resist, 
 shall receive to themselves damnation.' 
 
 We must not so much as ease our stomach, or discharge our 
 passion, by railing or inveighing against them. For, ' thou 
 shalt not speak evil of the ruler of thy people,' is a divine law; 
 and, to ' blaspheme,' or revile, ' dignities,' is by St. Peter 
 and St. Jude reprehended as a notable crime. 
 
 We must not be bold or free in taxing their actions. For, 
 * is it fit,' said Elihu, ' to say to a king, Thou art wicked, and 
 to princes. Ye are ungodly ?' and to ' reproach the footsteps 
 of God's anointed' is implied to be an impious practice. 
 
 We must forbear even complaining and murmuring against 
 them. For murmurers are condemned as no mean sort of 
 offenders ; and the Jews in the wilderness were sorely punished 
 for such behavior. 
 
 We must not (according to the preacher's advice) so much 
 as * curse them in our thoughts;' or not entertain ill conceits 
 and ill wishes in our minds toward them. 
 
 To do these things is not only high presumption in regard to 
 them, (inconsistent with the dutiful attection and respect which 
 we owe to them,) but it is flat impiety toward God, and an 
 invasion of his authority ; who alone is ' King of kings,' and 
 liath reserved to himself the prerogative of judging, of rebuking, 
 jf punishing kings, when he findeth cause. 
 
 These were the misdemeanors of those in the late times, who,
 
 244 BARROW. — SERMON X, 
 
 instead of praying for their sovereign, did clamor and rail a£ 
 him, did asperse him with foul imputations, did accuse his pro- 
 ceedings, did raise tumults and levy war against him, pretending 
 bv rude force to reduce him to his duty ; so usurping on their 
 prince, or rather on God himself; assuming his right, and 
 taking his work out of his hands ; discovering also therein 
 great profaneness of mind, and distrust of God's providence ; 
 as if God, being implored by prayer, could not, or would not, 
 had it been needful, without such irregular courses, have re- 
 dressed those evils in church or state, which they pretended to- 
 feel or fear. 
 
 Nothing therefore in such cases is left to us for our remedy 
 or ease, but having recourse to God himself, and seeking relief 
 from his hand in his good time, by converting our prince, or 
 directing him into a good course ; however comforting our- 
 selves in the conscience of submitting to God's will.* 
 
 This is the only method St. Paul did prescribe, even when 
 Nero, a most vile, flagitious man, a sorry and naughty governor 
 as could be, a monstrous tyrant, and most bloody persecutor, 
 (the very inventor of persecution,) did sway the empire. t He 
 did not advise Christians to stand on their guard, to contrive 
 plots, to provide arms, to raise mutinies and insurrections 
 against him ; but to offer supplications, prayers, and interces- 
 sions for him, as the best means of their security and comfort.I 
 And this was the course of the primitive Christians during their 
 hard condition under the domination of heathen princes, im- 
 pugners of their religion : ' Prayers and tears were' then the 
 
 * Absit cnim ut indigne fcranuis ea nos pali quae optamus, aiit 
 Hltionem a nobis aliquam machinemur, quam a Deo expecfamns. — 
 Tert. ad Scap. 2. 
 , t Q'li »on dicam regum, sed omnium bominum, et vel bestiarum 
 sordidissimus, dignus exstitit qui persecutionem in Christianos pri- 
 mus inciperet. — Snip. Sev. ii. 40. 
 
 i Ita nos magis oramus pro salute imperatoris, ab eo cam posln- 
 lantes qui prECstare potest. Et utiquc ex disciplina patienti,-e divi- 
 iiae agere nos, satis manifestum esse vobis potest, cum tanta bomi- 
 num multitudo, pars pene major civilatis cujusque, in silentio et 
 modcstia agimus. — Tert. ad Scap. 2.
 
 ON THE king's HAPPY RETURN. 245 
 
 only 'arms of the church ;' whereby they long defended it from 
 ruin, and at last advanced it to most glorious prosperity.'* 
 
 Indeed if, not assuming the liberty to find fault with princes, 
 we would practise the duty of seeking God for his blessing on 
 their proceedings ; if, forbearing to scan and censure acts of state, 
 we would earnestly implore God's direction of them ; if, leaving 
 to conceive disgusts, and vent complaints about the state of 
 things, we would assiduously petition God for the settlement of 
 them in good order ; if, instead of being shrewd politicians, or 
 smart judges in such matters, we would be devout orators and 
 liumbte solicitors at the throne of grace ; our endeavors surely 
 would find much better eft'ect toward public advantage : we 
 certainly might do more good in our closets by a few hearty 
 wishes uttered there, than by all our tattling or jangling po- 
 litics in corners. 
 
 There are great contrivances to settle things : every one 
 hath his model of state, or method of policy, to communicate 
 for ordering the state ; each is zealous for his own conceit, and 
 apt to be displeased with those Avho dissent from him: but it is, 
 as the fairest and justest, so the surest and likeliest way of 
 reducing things to a firm composure, (without more ado, let- 
 ting the world alone, to move on its own hinges, and not imper- 
 tinently troubling ourselves or others with the conduct of it,) 
 simply to request of Almighty God, the sovereign Governor and 
 sole Disposer of things, that he would lead his own vicegerents 
 in the management of the charge by himself committed to 
 them. ' Be careful for nothing ; but in every thing by prayer 
 and supplication with thanksgivins let your requests be made 
 known to God,' is a rule very applicable to this case. 
 
 As God's providence is the only sure ground of our confi- 
 dence or hope for the preservation of church and state, or for 
 the restitution of things into a stable quiet ; so it is only our 
 hearty prayers, joined with a conscientious observance of God's 
 laws, whereby we can incline Providence to favor us. By 
 them alone we may hope to save things from sinking into dis- 
 
 * Fundendo sanguinem, et patiendo niaj^is quam faciendo contu- 
 melias, Christi fuiidata est ecclesia ; persccutionibus crevit, &c. — 
 Hier. Ep. G2.
 
 240 BARROW. — SERMON X. 
 
 order, we may assuage the factions, we may defeat the machi- 
 nations against the public welfare. 
 
 12. Seeing then we have so many good arguments and nio- 
 tives inducing to pray for kings, it is no wonder that, to back 
 them, we may also allege the practice of the church, continu- 
 ally in all times performing this duty in its most sacred offices, 
 especially in the celebration of the holy communion. 
 
 St. Paul indeed, when he saith, ' I exhort first of all, that 
 prayers be made,' doth chiefly impose this duty on Timothy, 
 or supposeth it incumbent on the pastors of the church, to take 
 special care that prayers be made for this purpose, and offered 
 up in the church jointly by all Christians : and accordingly 
 the ancient Christians, as TertuUian doth assure us, did " al- 
 ways pray for tlie emperors, that God would grant them a long 
 life, a secure reign, a safe family, valiant armies, a faithful 
 senate, a loyal people, a quiet world, and whatever they, as 
 men or as emperors, could wish."* Thus, addeth h&, even for 
 their persecutors, and in the very pangs of their sufterings, 
 they did not fail to practise. Likewise of the church in his 
 time St. Chrysostom telletli us, that " all communicants did 
 know how every day, both at even and morning, they did 
 make supplication for all the world, and for the emperor, and 
 for all that are in authority. "t 
 
 And in the Greek liturgies (the composure whereof is 
 fathered on St. Chrysostom) there are divers prayers inter- 
 spersed for the emperors, couched in terms very pregnant and 
 respectful. 
 
 If the offices of the Roman church, and of the churches truck- 
 ling under it, in latter times, shall seem more defective or 
 sparing in this point of service, the reason may be, for that a 
 
 * Precantcs sumus semper pro omnibus imperatoiibus vitam illis 
 prolixam, imperium scciirnm, domum tutam, cxercitus furies, sena- 
 tum fitlelem, populum probum, orbein qiiictuui, quascunque hotniiiis 
 et CtBsaris vota sunt. — Tcrt. Apol. caj). 30. 
 
 Hoc agite, boni jnasules, extorcjuete aiiimam Deo supplicanlem 
 pro imperatore.^ — Ibid. 
 
 t Kal TovTO iaaffiv ol fivtrrat, irws Kad' iKdarriv fjn^pav ylveTat Kai fv e(Tir«pa 
 KOI eV Trpocta' irSis virlp iravrhs rov K6afxov, koL ^aaiXeoov, koi iravrtev twv iv 
 vvepox^ ovTuiv, voiovfiida rijv Serjaiv. — Clir^s. in I Tim. ii. I.
 
 ON THE king's HAPPY RETURN. 241' 
 
 superlative regard to the Solar or Pontifical authority (as Pope 
 Innocent III. distinguished) did obscure tlieir devotion for the 
 Lunar or Regal Majesty. But our church hath been abun- 
 dantly careful, that we should in most ample manner discharge 
 this duty ; having in each of her holy offices directed us to 
 pray for our king in expressions most full, hearty, and lively. 
 
 She hath indeed been charged as somewhat lavish or over- 
 liberal of her devotions in this case. But it is a good fault, and 
 we little need fear over-doing in observance of a precept so 
 very reasonable, and so important ; supposing that we have a 
 due care to join our heart with the church's words, and to the 
 frequency of prayers for our prince do confer a suitable fer- 
 vency. If we be not dead, or merely formal, we can hardly be 
 too copious in this kind of devotion ; reiteration of words can 
 do no harm, being accompanied with the renovation of our 
 desires. Our text itself will bear us out in such a practice ; the 
 Apostle therein by variety of expression appearing solicitous, 
 that abundance of prayers for kings should be offered in the 
 church, and no sort of them omitted. 
 
 There are so many general inducements to this duty at all 
 times ; and there are beside divers particular reasons enforcing 
 it now, in the present state and posture of things. 
 
 Times of trouble, of danger, of fear, of darkness and per- 
 plexity, of distraction and distress, of guilt and deserved 
 wrath, are most seasonable for recourse to the divine help and 
 Mercy in prayer.* 
 
 And are not ours such ? are they not much like to those of 
 which the psalmist saith, ' They know not, neither will they 
 understand; they walk on in darkness: all the foundations of 
 the earth are out of course ?* or like those of which our Lord 
 spake, when there was ' on the earth distress of nations, with 
 perplexity ; men's hearts failing them for fear, and for looking 
 after those things which were coming on the earth V 
 
 Are not the days gloomy, so that no human providence can 
 see far, no wisdom can descry the issue of things ? 
 
 Is it not a very unsettled world, wherein all the public 
 
 * Inops senatus auxilii human! ad decs populum ac vota vertit. — 
 Liv. iii. 7. v. 16.
 
 248 BARROW. — SERMON X. 
 
 frames are shaken almost off the hinges, and the minds of men 
 extremely discomposed with various passions; with fear, 
 suspicion, anger, discontent, and impatience? How from 
 dissensions in opinion do violent factions and feuds rage ; the 
 hearts of men boiling with fierce animosities, and being exas- 
 perated against one another, beyond any hopes or visible means 
 of reconcilement ! 
 
 Are not the fences of discipline cast down ? Is there any 
 conscience made of violating laws ? Is not the dread of 
 authority exceedingly abated, and all government overborne 
 by unbridled licentiousness ? 
 
 How many adversaries are there, ' bearing ill will to our 
 Sion !' How many turbulent, malicious, crafty spirits, eagerly 
 bent, and watching for occasion to subvert the church, to 
 disturb the state, to introduce confusion in all things ! How 
 many Edomites, who say of Jerusalem, (both ecclesiastical 
 and civil,) ' Down with it, down with it even to the ground !' 
 
 Have we not great reason to be fearful of God's just dis- 
 pleasure, and that heavy judgments will be poured on us for 
 our manifold heinous provocations and crying sins ; for the 
 prodigious growth of atheism, infidelity, and profaneness ; for 
 the rife practice of all impieties, iniquities, and impurities, with 
 most impudent boldness, or rather with outrageous insolence ; 
 for the extreme dissoluteness in manners; the gToss neglect or 
 contempt of all duties ; the great stupidity and coldness of 
 people generally as to all concerns of religion ; for the want-of 
 religious awe toward God, of charity toward our neighbor, of 
 respect to our superiors, of sobriety in our conversation ; for our 
 ingratitude for many great mercies, and incorrigibleness under 
 many sore chastisements, our insensibleness of many plain 
 warnings, loudly calling us to repentance ? 
 
 Is not all the world about us in combustion, cruel wars raging 
 every where, and Christendom w eltering in blood ? and 
 although at present, by God's mercy, we are free, who knows 
 but that soon, by God's justice, the neighboring flames may 
 catch our houses ? 
 
 In fine, is not our case palpably such, that for any good com- 
 posure or reinstatement of things in good order, for upholding 
 truth and sound doctrine, for reducing charity and peace, for
 
 ON THE king's HAPPY RETURN. ^49 
 
 feviving the spirit of piety, and bringing virtue again into 
 request; for preserving state and church from ruin; we can 
 have no confidence or reasonable hope, but in the good provi- 
 dence and merciful succor of Almighty God : * beside whom 
 there is no Saviour ;' who alone is * the hope of Israel, and 
 Saviour thereof in time of trouble ?' we now having great cause 
 to pray with our Lord's disciples in the storm, ' Lord, save us, 
 we perish.' 
 
 On such considerations, and others whereof I suppose you 
 are sufficiently apprehensive, we now especially are obliged 
 earnestly to pray for our king, that God in mercy would pre- 
 serve his royal person, and inspire his mind with light, and 
 endue his heart with grace, and in all things bless him to us, to 
 be ' a repairer of our breaches, and a restorer of paths to dwell 
 in ; so that under him we may lead a quiet life in all godliness 
 and honesty.' 
 
 I have done with the first duty (prayer for kings;) on which 
 I have the rather so largely insisted, because it is very season- 
 able to our present condition. 
 
 II. The other (thanksgiving) I shall but touch, and need not 
 perhaps to do more. For, 
 
 1. As .to general inducements, they are the same, or very 
 like to those which are for prayer ; it being plain that 
 whatever we are concerned to pray for, when we want it, that 
 we are bound to thank God for, when he vouchsafeth to 
 bestow it. And if common charity should dispose us to resent 
 the good of princes with complacence; if their welfare be a 
 public benefit; if ourselves are interested in it, and partake 
 great advantages thereby ; if in equity and ingenuity we are 
 bound to seek it ; then, surely, we are much engaged to thank 
 God, the bountiful donor of it, for his goodness in conferring 
 it. 
 
 2. As for particular motives, suiting the present occasion, I 
 need not by information or impression of them farther to stretch 
 your patience ; seeing you cannot be ignorant or insensible of 
 the grand benefits by the divine goodness bestowed on our king, 
 and on ourselves, which this day we are bound with all grate- 
 ful acknowlegement to commemorate. Wherefore, instead of
 
 250 BARROW. — SERMON X. 
 
 reciting trite stories, and* urging obvious reasons, (which a 
 small recollection will suggest to you,) I shall only request you 
 to join with me in the practice of the duty, and in acclamation 
 of praise to God. Even so 
 
 Blessed be God, who hath given to us so gracious and 
 benign a prince, (the experiments of whose clemency and 
 goodness no history can parallel,) to sit on the throne of his 
 blessed father, and renowned ancestors. 
 
 Blessed be God, who hath protected him in so many en- 
 counters, hath saved him from so many dangers and snares, 
 hath delivered him from so great troubles. 
 
 Blessed be God, who in so wonderful a manner, by such 
 miraculous trains of providence, did reduce him to his country, 
 and reinstate him in the possession of his rights ; thereby vin- 
 dicating his own just providence, ' declaring his salvation, 
 and openly showing his righteousness in the sight of all 
 people.' 
 
 Blessed be God, who in him and with him did restore to us 
 our ancient good constitution of government, our laws and 
 liberties, our peace and quiet ; rescuing us from lawless usur- 
 pations and tyrannical yokes, from the insultings of error and 
 iniquity, from horrible distractions and confusions. 
 
 Ever blessed be God, who hath * turned the captivity of 
 Sion ;' hath raised our church from the dust, and re-established 
 the sound doctrine, the decent order, the wholesome discipline 
 thereof; hath restored true religion with its supports, advan- 
 tages, and encouragements. 
 
 Blessed be the Lord, who hath granted us to continue 
 these sixteen years in the peaceable fruition of those bless- 
 ings. 
 
 ' Praised be God, who hath not cast out our prayer, nor 
 turned his mercy from us.' 
 
 Praised be God, who ' hath turned our heaviness into joy, 
 hath put off our sackcloth, and girded us with gladness.' 
 
 ' Let our mouth speak the praise of the Lord ; and let all 
 flesh bless his holy name for ever and ever.' 
 
 'The Lord liveth, and blessed be our rock ; and let the God 
 of our salvation be exalted.'
 
 ON THE king's HAPPY RETURN. 251 
 
 ' Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, who only doeth won- 
 drous things ; and blessed be his glorious name for ever ; and 
 let the whole earth be filled with his glory. Amen, and 
 amen.' 
 
 ' Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, from everlasting to 
 everlasting: and let all the people say. Amen. Praise ye 
 the Lord.'
 
 252 SUMMARY OF 
 
 SUMMARY OF SERMON XI. 
 
 PSALM LXIV. — VERSES 9. 10. 
 
 Parallel case io the Psalm from which the text is taken, 
 to that commemorated in the service of the day : duties enjoined 
 on us designated in the text. 1. Wisely to consider God's 
 doing : 2. to fear : 3. to declare God's work : 4. to be glad 
 in the Lord : 5. to trust in God : 6. to glory. All these 
 particulars may be understood in a double manner : either as 
 declarative of the event, or as directing the practice on such 
 emergencies : this enlarged on. 
 
 I. We are on such occasions obliged wisdy to consider, or 
 io understand God's doing. This is placed first, as previous in 
 its nature, and influential on the rest. There are many who 
 are very inobservant and careless with regard to things of this 
 nature, such as those of whom the prophet speaks, Isa. v. 12. 
 Reasons given for this carelessness. It is shown that both rea- 
 son and holy Scripture plainly declare our obligation to con- 
 sider and perceive God's doings. There are some distinctive 
 marks or characters, by which we may perceive God's hand, 
 on which may be grounded rules declarative of special provi- 
 dence, such as commonly will hold, although they sometime* 
 may admit of exceptions, and should be warily applied : for 
 example, 1. the wonderful strangeness of events compared 
 with the ordinary course of things, or natural influence of 
 causes : 2. the reasonableness and suddenness of events, when 
 there is occasion to acknowlege with the prophet, thou didst 
 terrible things, that we looked not for : Isa. Ixiv. 3. : 3. the 
 great utility and beneficial influence of occurrences, especially
 
 SERMON XI 253 
 
 in regard to the public state of things, and to great personages 
 in whose welfare the public is much concerned : 4. the righ- 
 teousness of the case, or the advantage springing from events 
 to the maintenance of right, the vindication of innocence, the 
 defence of truth, the encouragement of piety and virtue ; 5, 
 the correspondence of events to the prayers and desires of good 
 men ; of which many examples are quoted from the holy Scrip- 
 tures : 6, the near resemblance or significant correspondence 
 which they usually bear to the actions on which they are 
 grounded, and which serve to discover their original : 7, the 
 harmonious conspiracy of various accidents to one end or ef- 
 fect ; it being beyond the reach of fortune to range various cau- 
 ses in such order. By these means, if we will consider wisely, 
 with minds pure from vain prejudices and corrupt affections, 
 we may discern and understand God's doing, 
 
 II. It is our duty, on all such remarkable occasions of pro- 
 vidence, to fear God, All men, it is said, shall fear. It is 
 our duty in such cases to be affected with all sorts of fear ; with 
 a fear of awful dread, with a fear of hearty reverence, with a 
 fear of sober caution, yea, sometimes with a fear of dejecting 
 consternation : these points enlarged on. 
 
 III. We are in such cases obliged to declare God's work : 
 that is, openly to acknowlege and avow, to applaud and cele- 
 brate the special providence of God, with his adorable perfec- 
 tions displayed in such events; to the glory of God's name, in 
 expression of our reverence and gratitude, for the common edi- 
 fication of men, which is the due improvement of our glory. 
 Example of the holy psalmist. 
 
 IV. It is peculiarly the duty and practice of good men on 
 such occasions to feel and to express religious joy. The I'igh- 
 teous shall be glad in the Lord. Reasons given why good men 
 have much cause, on many accounts, to be glad. 
 
 V. The next duty prescribed to good men in such cases is, 
 to trust in God ; that is, to have their affiance in God, on all
 
 254 SUMMARY OF SERMON XI. 
 
 like occasions and emergencies, settled, improved, and corro- 
 borated thereby : for this is the proper end, as it immediately 
 regards ourselves, ot" God's special and remarkable providence, 
 viz. to nourish in well-disposed minds that faith in him, which 
 is the root of all piety, and ground of devotion. 
 
 VI. Good men on such occasions should glory. All the 
 upright in heart $hall glory : that is, in contemplation of such 
 providences feeling sprightly elevation of mind and transports 
 of affection, they should exhibit triumphant demonstrations of 
 satisfaction and alacrity. For such carriage in such cases we 
 have the practice and the advice of the psalmist to direct us : 
 instances quoted. Observations on the sense of the word tirave- 
 dljaovTai, they shall be praised. 
 
 Such are the duties recommended in the text : concluding 
 brief application of them to the particular case in view.
 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 255 
 
 SERMON XI. 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 
 
 PSALM LXIV. — VERSES 9. 10. 
 
 And all men shall fear, and shall declare the work of God ; for 
 they sliall wisely consider of his doing. The righteous shall be 
 glad in the Lord, and shall trust in him ; and all the upright in 
 heart shall glory. 
 
 If we should search about for a case parallel to that which 
 we do now commemorate, we should, perhaps, hardly find one 
 more patly such, than is that which is implied in this psalm : 
 tind if we would know the duties incumbent on us in reference 
 to such an occasion, we could scarce better learn them other- 
 where than in our text. 
 
 With attention perusing the psalm, we may therein observe 
 that its great Author was apprehensive of a desperate plot by 
 a confederacy of wicked and spiteful enemies, with great craft 
 and secrecy, contrived against his safety. ' They,' saith he, 
 ' encourage themselves in an evil matter : they commune of 
 aying snares privily ; they say, Who shall see them V That 
 for preventing the blow threatened by this design, (whereof lie 
 bad some glimpse, or some presumption, grounded on the 
 knowlege of their implacable and active malice,) he doth im- 
 jlore divine protection : ' hide me,' saith he, ' from the secret 
 jounsel of the wicked, from the insurrection of the workers of 
 .niquity.' That he did confide in God's mercy and justice for 
 .he seasonable defeating, for the fit avenging their machination : 
 •' God,' saith he, ' shall shoot at them with an arrow ; suddenly
 
 ^56 BARROW. — SERMON XI. 
 
 shall they be wounded.' That they should themselves become 
 the detectors of their crime, and the instruments of the exem- 
 plary punishment due thereto : ' they,' addeth he, ' shall make 
 their own tongue to fall on themselves : all that see them shall 
 flee away.' 
 
 Such was the case ; the which unto what passage in the his- 
 tory it doth relate, or whether it belongeth to any we have re- 
 corded, it may not be easy to determine. Expositors commonly 
 do refer it to the designs of Saul on David's life. But this 
 seeming purely conjecture, not founded on any express words, 
 or pregnant intimations in the text, I shall leave that inquiry 
 in its own uncertainty. It sufficeth to make good its pertinency, 
 that there was such a mischievous conspiracy, deeply projected, 
 against David ; (a very great personage, in whose safety the 
 public state of God's people was principally concerned ; he 
 being then king of Israel, at least in designation, and therefore 
 in the precedent psalm, endited in Saul's time, is so styled;) 
 from the peril whereof he by the special providence of God 
 was rescued, with the notable disappointment and grievous 
 confusion of those who managed it. The which case (at least in 
 kind, if not in degree) beareth a plain resemblance to that which 
 lieth before us. 
 
 And the duties, which on that occasion are signified to con- 
 cern people then, do no less now sort to us ; the which, as they 
 lie couched in our text, are these : 1. Wisely to consider 
 God's doing; 2. to fear; 3. to declare God's work; 4. 
 to be glad in the Lord ; 5. to trust in God ; 6. to glory. 
 Of which the first three are represented as more generally con- 
 cerning men ; the others as appertaining more peculiarly to 
 righteous and upright persons. 
 
 These duties it shall be my endeavor somewhat to explain 
 and press, in a manner applicable to the present case. I call 
 them duties; and to warrant the doing so, it is requisite to 
 consider that all these particulars may be understood in a 
 double manner ; either as declarative of event, or as directive 
 of practice on such emergencies. 
 
 When God doth so interpose his hand as signally to check 
 and confound mischievous enterprises, it will be apt to stir up 
 in the minds of men an apprehension of God's special provi-
 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 257 
 
 dence, to strike into their hearts a dread of his power and jus- 
 tice, to wring from their mouths suitable declarations and ac- 
 knowlegements ; and particularly then good men will be af- 
 fected with pious joy ; they will be encouraged to confide in 
 God, they will be moved to glory, or to express a triumphant 
 satisfaction in God's proceedings. These events naturally do 
 result from such providential occurrences ; for production of 
 these events such occurrences are purposely designed ; and ac- 
 cordingly (where men are not by profane opinions or affections 
 much indisposed) they do commonly follow. 
 
 But yet they are not proposed simply as events, but also as 
 matters of duty : for men are obliged readily to admit such im- 
 pressions on their minds, hearts, and lives, from the special 
 works of providence ; they are bound not to cross those natural 
 tendencies, not to frustrate those wise intents of God, aiming 
 at the production of such good dispositions and good practices: 
 whence if those effects do not arise, as often notoriously they 
 do not in some persons, men thereby do incur much guilt and 
 blame. 
 
 It is indeed ordinary to represent matter of duty in this way, 
 expressing those practices consequent in effect, which in obli- 
 gation should follow, according to God's purpose, and the 
 nature of causes ordered by him. As when, for instance, God 
 in the law had prescribed duty, and threatened sore punishment 
 on the disobedient, it is subjoined, ' and all the people shall 
 hear, and fear, and do no more presumptuously:' the meaning 
 is, that such exemplary punishment is in its nature apt, and its 
 design tendeth to produce such effects, although not ever, 
 questionless, with due success, so as to prevent all transgression 
 of those laws. So also, ' when,' saith the prophet, 'thy judg- 
 ments are in the land, the inhabitants of the world will learn 
 righteousness:' the sense is, that divine judgments in them- 
 selves are instructive of duty, it is their drift to inform men 
 therein, and men ought to learn that lesson from them; al- 
 though in eftect divers there be whom no judgments can 
 make wiser or better ; such as those of whom in the same 
 prophet it is said, ' tlie people turneth not unto him that 
 smiteth them :' and in another, ' in vain have I smitten your 
 children, they received no correction.' As therefore frequently
 
 258 BARROW. — SERMON XI. 
 
 otherwhere, so also here this kind of expression may be taken 
 chiefly to import duty. To begin then with the first of these 
 duties. 
 
 I. We are on such occasions obliged ' wisely to consider' 
 (or, as the Greek rendereth it, avi'tevai, ' to understand,' or 
 * to perceive,' as our old translation hath it) ' God's doing.' 
 This I put in the first place, as previous in nature, and influ- 
 ential on the rest : whence (although in the Hebrew it be knit 
 to the rest, as they all are to one another, by the conjunctive 
 particle ve, and, yet) we do translate it casually, * for they 
 shall wisely consider,' 'for they shall perceive;' because in- 
 deed without duly considering and rightly understanding such 
 occurrences to proceed from God, none of the other acts can 
 or will be performed : attentive consideration is needful to 
 beget knowlege and persuasion ; these to breed aff"ection 
 and practice. 
 
 There are many who, in such cases, are nowise apprehen- 
 sive of God's special providence, or aflfected with it ; be- 
 cause they do not consider, or do not consider wisely and in- 
 telligently. 
 
 Some are very inobservant and careless in regard to things 
 of this nature ; so drowsy and heedless, as not to attend to 
 whatever passeth, or to mind what God acteth in the world : 
 such as those of whom the prophet saitli, ' the harp, and the 
 viol, the tabret, and pipe, and wine, are in their feasts: but 
 they regard not the work of the Lord, nor the operation of his 
 hands :' that is, their minds are so amused by wanton diver- 
 tisements, their hearts are so. immersed in sensual enjoy- 
 ments, as nowise to observe the most notal^e occurrences of 
 providence. 
 
 Others (although they do ken and regard what is done, as 
 matter of news, or story, entertaining curiosity and talk ; yet) 
 out of sloth or stupidity do little consider it, or study whence 
 it springeth ; contenting themselves with none, or with any 
 superficial account which fancy or appearance suggesteth : like 
 beasts they do take in things obvious to their sense, and per- 
 haps stand gazing on them ; but do not make any careful re- 
 flexion, or inquiry into their original causes and reasons ; tak- 
 ing (as a dog, when he biteth the stone flung at him, or as a
 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 25() 
 
 child that is angry with the log he falleth on) whatever ap- 
 peareth next to be the principal cause : such as the psalmist 
 again toucheth, when he saith, ' a brutish man knoweth 
 not, neither doth a fool understand this:' and as he doth 
 acknowlege himself on one occasion to have been ; ' so foolish 
 was I, and ignorant ; I was as a beast before thee.' 
 
 Others pretend to consider much, and seem very inquisitive ; 
 yet (being misguided by vain prejudices or foul affections) do not 
 consider wisely, or well understand these matters ; the result of 
 their care and study about them being to father them on wrong 
 causes, ascribing them to the mere conduct and agency of vi- 
 sible causes, hurried by a necessary swinge, or rolling on by a 
 casual fluctuation of things ; not descrying God's hand in 
 them, but profanely discarding and disclaiming it : such as 
 those in the psalms, who so reflected on providence as to say, 
 * How doth God know? and is there knowlege in the* Most 
 High ?' ' The Lord doth not see, neither doth the God of Jacob 
 regard it:' such as hath been the brood of Epicurean and pro- 
 fane considerers in all times, who have earnestly plodded, and 
 strained their wits, to exclude God from any inspection or in- 
 fluence on our aft'airs. 
 
 Some indeed there have been so very dull and stupid, or so 
 perverse and profane, as not to discern God's hand, when it 
 was ' made bare,' ' raised up,' and ' stretched out ' in the achieve- 
 ment of most prodigious works ; not to read providence, when 
 set forth in the largest and fairest print ; such as those of 
 whom it is said in the psalm, ' our fathers understood not thy 
 wonders in Egypt;' and those of whom it is observed in the 
 gospel, * though he had done so many n)iracles before tKem, 
 yet they believed not :' such as the mutinous people, who, al- 
 though they beheld ' the earth swallowing up Korah with his 
 complices,' and 'a lire from the Lord consuming the men that 
 offered incense ;' yet presently did fall a charging Moses and 
 Aaron, saying, ' Ye have killed the people of the Lord.' No 
 wonder then, if many do not perceive the same hand, when it is 
 wrapped up in a complication with inferior causes ; when it is 
 not lifted up so high, or so far extended in miraculous perform- 
 ances. 
 
 The special providence of God in events here effected or 
 ordered by him, is indeed commonly not discernible without
 
 200 BARROW. — SERMON XI. 
 
 good judgment and great care ; it is not commonly impressed 
 on events in characters so big and clear, as to be legible to 
 every eye, or to any eye not endued with a sharp perspicacy, 
 not applying an industrious heedfulness : the tracts thereof are 
 too fine and subtile to be descried by a dim sight, with a tran- 
 sient glance, or on a gross view : it is seldom so very conspi- 
 cuous, that persons incredulous, or any wise indisposed to admit 
 it, can easily be convinced thereof, or constrained to acknow- 
 lege it : it is often (on many accounts, from many causes) very 
 obscure, and not easily discernible to the most sagacious, most 
 watchful, most willing observers. For the instruments of 
 providence being free agents, acting with unaccountable va- 
 riety, nothing can happen which may not be imputed to them, 
 with some colorable pretence. Divine and human influences 
 are so twisted and knit together, that it is hard to sever them. 
 The •aanner of divine elficacy is so very soft and gentle, that 
 we cannot easily trace its footsteps. God designeth not com- 
 monly to exert his hand in a notorious way, but often purposely 
 doth conceal it. Whereas also it is not fit to charge on God's 
 special hand of providence any event, wherein special ends of 
 wisdom or goodness do not shine ; it is often hard to discover 
 such ends, which usually are wrapped in perplexities : because 
 God acteth variously, (according to circumstances of things, 
 and the disposition, capacity, or state of objects,) so as to do 
 the same thing for difterent ends, and different things for the 
 same end : because there are different ends, unto which Provi- 
 dence in various order and measure hath regard, which our 
 short and narrow prospect cannot reach : because God, in pro- 
 secution of his ends, is not wont to proceed in the most direct 
 and compendious way ; but windeth about in a large circuit, 
 enfolding many concurrent and subordinate designs : because 
 the expediency of things to be permitted or performed doth 
 not consist in single acts or events, but in many conspiring to 
 one common end : because we cannot apprehend the conse- 
 quences, nor balance the convenience of thincs in order to 
 good ends : because we are apt to measure things by their 
 congruity to our opinions, expectations, and affections : because 
 many proceedings of God depend on grounds inaccessible 
 to our apprehension ; such as his own secret decrees, the 
 knowlege of men's thoughts, close purposes, clandestine de-
 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 2G1 
 
 signs, (me qualifications and merits; his prescience of contin- 
 gent events, and what the result will be from the combination 
 of numberless causes : because sometimes he doth act in methods 
 of wisdom, and by rules of justice, surpassing our capacity to 
 know, either from the finiteness of our nature, or the feebleness 
 of our reason, or the meaaness of our state and circumstances 
 here : because all the divine administration of aft'airs hath no 
 complete determination or final issue here ; that being reserved 
 to the great day of reckoning and judgment. It is farther also 
 expedient that many occurrences should be puzzling to us, to 
 quash our presumption, to exercise our faith, to quicken our 
 industry, to engage us on adoring that wisdom which we cannot 
 comprehend. On such accounts, for such causes, (which time 
 will not give me leave to explain and exemplify,) the special 
 providence of God is often cloudy, is seldom so clear, that 
 without great heed and consideration we can perceive it.. But 
 however to do so is plainly our duty ; and therefore possible. 
 
 For our reason was not given us to he idle on so important 
 occasions ; or that we should be as brute spectators of what 
 God doeth. He surely in the governance of his noblest crea- 
 ture here discovereth his being, and displayeth his attributes : 
 we therefore carefully should observe it. He thereby (and no 
 otherwise in a public way) doth continually speak, and signify 
 to us his mind : and fit it is, that we his subjects should hear, 
 should attend to the least intimations of his pleasure. To him 
 thence glory should accrue, the which who but we can render? 
 And that we may render it, we must know the grounds of it. 
 In fine, for the support of God's kingdom, for upholding the 
 reverence due to his administration of justice among us, it i.s 
 requisite that by apparent dispensation of recompenses duty 
 should be encouraged, and disobedience checked: very foolish 
 therefore we must be, if Me regard not such dispensations. 
 
 So reason dictateth, and holy Scripture more plainly de- 
 clareth our obligation to consider and perceive God's doings. 
 To do so is recommended to us as a singular point of wisdom : 
 ' Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, they shall un- 
 derstand the loving-kindness of the Lord.' ' Let him that glo- 
 rieth glory in this, that he understandeth and knoweth me, that 
 I am the Lord, which exercise loving-kindness, judgment, and
 
 2G2 BARROW. — SERMON XI. 
 
 righteousness in the earth.' ' Who is wise ? and he shall un- 
 derstand these things; prudent? and he shall know them. 
 For the ways of the Lord are right,' &c. We are vehemently 
 provoked thereto : ' Understand, ye brutish among the people; 
 and, ye fools, when will ye be wise?' They are reproved for 
 neglect and defailance, ' who do not regard the work of the 
 Lord, nor the operation of his hand.' The not discerning Pro- 
 vidence is reproached as a piece of shameful folly ; ' A brutish 
 man knoweth not, neither doth a fool understand :' and of woful 
 pravity ; ' O ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the sky ; 
 but how is it that ye cannot discern this time ?' To contem- 
 plate and study Providence is the practice of good men. ' I 
 will meditate on all thy works,' saith the psalmist, chiefly re- 
 specting works of this kind : and, ' The works of the Lord are 
 great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein.' It 
 is a fit matter of devotion, warranted by the practice of good 
 men, to implore God's manifestation of his justice and power 
 this way. ' O Lord God, to whom vengeance belongeth, show' 
 thyself; lift up thyself, thou Judge of the earth.' It is God's 
 manner hereby to notify himself. ' The Lord is known by the 
 judgment that he executeth.' He for this very purpose doth 
 interpose his hand; ' that men may know it is his hand, and 
 that the Lord hath done it ;' that, as it is in Esay, ' they may 
 see, and know, and consider, and understand together, that the 
 hand of the Lord hath done this, and the Holy One of Israel 
 hath created it.' *He manageth thinsfs, so that men may be 
 brought to know, may be induced to acknowlege his authority, 
 and his equity in the management thereof ; that ' they may 
 know that he, whose name is Jehovah, is the Most High over 
 all the earth :' that ' they may say. Verily there is a reward 
 for the righteous: verily there is a God that judgeth the earth.' 
 In fine, the knowlege of God's special providence is frequently 
 represented as a mean of nourishing our faith and hope in him, 
 as a ground of thankfulness and praise to him, as an incentive 
 of the best affections (of holy joy, and humble fear, and hearty 
 
 * God thereby dolh support and encourage good men. 
 
 He doth thereby convince and confound ill men — Ps. ix. 19.20. 
 
 He thereby doth instruct all men. — Isa. xxvi. 9.
 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 263 
 
 love) toward him : wherefore we ought to seek it, and we may 
 attain it. 
 
 There are consequently some distinctive marks, or charac- 
 ters, by vt^hich we may perceive God's hand : and such may 
 these be which follow, (drawn from the special nature, man- 
 ner, adjuncts, and consequences of events :) on which may be 
 grounded rules declarative of special providence, such as com- 
 monly will hold, although sometimes they may admit excep- 
 tions, and should be warily applied. , 
 
 1. The wonderful strangeness of events, compared with the 
 ordinary course of things, or the natural influence of causes ; 
 when effects are performed by no visible means, or by means 
 disproportionate, unsuitable, repugnant to the effect. Some- 
 times great exploits are achieved, mighty forces are discom- 
 fited, huge structures are demolished, designs backed with all 
 advantages of wit and strength are confounded, none knows 
 how, by no considerable means that appear ; nature rising up 
 in arms against them ; panic fears seizing on the abettors of 
 them ; dissensions and treacheries springing up among the 
 actors ; sudden deaths snatching away the principal instru- 
 ments of them. As, when ' the stars in their course fought 
 against Sisera :' when the winds and skies became auxiliaries 
 to Theodosius :* when ' the Lord thundered with a great 
 thunder on the Philistines, and discomfited them, and they 
 were smitten before Israel :' when ' the Lord made the host of 
 Syrians to hear a noise of chariots, of horses, of a sreat host ;' 
 — whence ' they arose and fled :' when ' the children of Am- 
 nion and Moab stood up against the inhabitants of mount Seir, 
 utterly to slay and destroy them ; and when they had made an 
 end of the inhabitants of Seir, every one helped to destroy 
 another :' when ' the angel of the Lord went forth and smote 
 in the camp of the Assyrians 185,000 men ; and when they 
 arose early in the morning, behold they were all dead corpses :' 
 when the mighty power of Antioclius was, as it is said, to be 
 ' broken without hands:' and when, as it is foretold, * a stone 
 cut out of the mountain without hands should break in pieces 
 the iron, the brass, the clay, the silver, and the gold.' Such 
 
 * Aug. (le Civ. Dei, v. 26.
 
 264 BARROW. — SERMON XI. 
 
 events do speak God to be their cause, by his invisible efficacy 
 supplying the defect of apparent means. 
 
 So likewise, when by weak forces great feats are accom- 
 plished, and impotency triumpheth over might ;* when, as the 
 prophet saith, ' the captives of the mighty are taken away, and 
 the prey of the terrible is delivered :' when 'one man,' as is 
 promised, ' doth chase a thousand, and two put ten thousand 
 to flight:' when a stripling, furnished only with faith and a 
 pebble, shall knock down a monstrous giant, armed with a 
 helmet of brass and a coat of mail, with a huge target, sword, 
 and spear: when successes arrive like those recorded in Scrip- 
 ture under the conduct of Joshua, Gideon, Jonathan, Asa, Je- 
 hosaphat ; wherein very small forces by uncouth means did 
 subdue formidable powers: this doth argue that God doth in- 
 terpose; ' with whom,' as it is said, * it is all one to save by 
 many, or by (e^Y, and those that have no power ;'vvhose ' power 
 is perfected in weakness ;' who ' breaketh the arm of the 
 wicked,' and ' weakeneth the strength of the mighty,' and 
 * delivereth the poor from him that is too strong for him.' 
 
 Also, when great policy and craft do effect nothing, but are 
 blasted of themselves, or baffled by simplicity : when cunninglj'- 
 laid designs are soon thwarted and overturned : when most 
 perspicacious and profound counsellors are so blinded, or so in- 
 fatuated, as to mistake in plain cases, to oversee things most 
 obvious and palpable : when profane, malicious, subtile, trea- 
 cherous politicians (such as Abimelech, Achitophel, Haman, 
 Sejanus, Stilico, Borgia, with many like occurring in story) 
 are not only supplanted in their wicked contrivances, but dis- 
 mally chastised for them : the occurrences do more than insi- 
 nuate divine wisdom to intervene, countermining and confound- 
 ing such devices. For he it is, who, as the Scripture telleth 
 us, ' maketh the diviners mad;' ' turneth wise men backward, 
 and maketh their knowlege foolish ;' ' disappointeth the devices 
 of the crafty, so that their hands cannot perform their enter- 
 prise ; taketh the wise in their own craftiness, and turneth 
 down the counsel of the froward headlonar.' 
 
 * Vid. Artabani Orat. apud Herod. Polymn. pag. 246. — Horn. II. 
 ver. 688.
 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 2G5 
 
 Whenever a just cause or honest design, without any support 
 or succor of worldly means, (without authority, power, wit, 
 learning, eloquence,) doth against all opposition of violence and 
 art prevail ; this signifieth him to yield a special countenance 
 and aid thereto, who, to depress human pride, and advance his 
 own glory, ' hath chosen the foolish things of the world to con- 
 found the wise ; and the weak things of the world to confound 
 the things that are mighty ; and base things of the world, and 
 things which are despised, and things that are not, to bring to 
 nought things that are :' (that are with us in most request and 
 esteem.) 
 
 Again, when plots, with extreme caution and secrecy con- 
 trived in darkness, are by improbable means, by unaccountable 
 accidents disclosed and brought to light ; ' a bird of the air,' 
 as the wise man speaketh, ' telling the matter ;' ' the stones in 
 the wall,' as it is in the prophet, ' crying out ' Treason. The 
 king cannot sleep : to divert him the chronicle is called for ; 
 Mordecai's service is there pitched on ; an inquiry is made 
 concerning his recompense ; honor is decreed him ; so doth 
 Haman's cruel device come out. Pity seizeth on a pitiless 
 heart toward one among a huge number of innocents devoted 
 to slaughter: that he may be saved, a letter must be sent : in 
 that, words inserted suggesting the manner of execution ; that 
 carried to the wise king, who presently smelleth it out : so this 
 day's plot was discovered. Such events, whence can they well 
 proceed, but from the all-piercing and ever-watchful care of 
 him, ' whose eyes,' as Elihu said, ' are on the ways of man, 
 and he seeth all his goings ?' ' There is no darkness nor sha- 
 dow of death, where the workers of iniquity shall hide them- 
 selves ;' for ' hell is naked before him, and destruction hath no 
 covering.' 
 
 Also, when ill men by their perverse wiliness do notably 
 befool and insnare themselves, laying trains to blow up their 
 own designs, involving themselves in that ruin and mischief into 
 which they studied to draw others; as when Saul, exposing 
 David's life to hazard, increaseth his honor ; when the Per- 
 sian nobles, incensing the king against Daniel, do occasion his 
 growth in favor, with their own destruction; when Haman, by 
 contriving to destroy God's people, doth advance them, and 
 
 BAR. VOL I. M
 
 266 BARROW. — SERMON XI. 
 
 rearing a gallows for Mordecai, doth prepare it for himself: 
 when it happeneth according to those passages in the Psalms, 
 ' the wicked are taken in the devices that they imagined ;' * in 
 the net which they hid is their own foot taken :' * he made a 
 pit and digged it, and is fallen into the ditch which he made :' 
 * his mischief shall return on his own head, and his violent deal- 
 ings shall come on his own pate :' these are pregnant evidences 
 of God's just and wise providence; for 'the Lord is known by 
 the judgment that he execute th ; the wicked is snared in the 
 work of his own hand.' 
 
 All such occurrences, containing in them somewhat, if not 
 downrightly miraculous, yet very admirable, in like manner 
 deflecting from the stream of human affairs, as miracles do sur- 
 mount the course of nature, most reasonably may, most justly 
 should, be ascribed to the special operation of him, who 'only 
 doeth wonderful things.' 
 
 2. Another character of special providence is, the seasona- 
 bleness and suddenness of events. When that, which in itself 
 is not ordinary, nor could well be expected, doth fall out hap- 
 pily, in the nick of an exigency, for the relief of innocence, the 
 encouragement of goodness, the support of a good cause, the 
 furtherance of any good purpose ; (so that there is occasion to 
 acknowlege with the prophet, ' thou didst terrible things, that 
 we looked not for;') this is a shrewd indication that God's 
 hand is then concerned ; not only the event being notable, but 
 the connexion thereof with circumstances of need being more 
 admirable. 
 
 Thus in time of distress and despondency, when a man is 
 utterly forlorn, and destitute of all visible relief, when, as (he 
 psalmist speaketh, ' refuge faileth him, and no man careth for his 
 soul :' if then evKaipvs /(3o»;9eta, ' an opportune succor ' doth 
 arrive ; he is then unreasonable and ingrateful if he doth not 
 avow a special providence, and thankfully ascribe that event 
 unto him who is ' our refuge and strength, a very present help 
 in trouble ;' ' a strength to the poor, a strength to the needy in 
 his distress, a refuge from the storm, a shadow from the heat ;' 
 ' the hope of Israel, and the Saviour thereof in time of trouble.' 
 This is that for which, in the 107th Psalm, the divine goodness 
 is so magnificently celebrated ; this is the burden of that pathe-
 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 267 
 
 tical rapture, wherein we by repeated wishes and exhortations 
 are instigated to bless God ; his wonderfully relieving the 
 children of men in their need and distress : this is that which 
 God himself in the prophet representeth as a most satisfactory 
 demonstration of his providence. ' When the poor and needy 
 seek water, and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, 
 I the Lord will hear them, I the God of Jacob will not forsake 
 them ; I will open rivers in high places, and fountains in the 
 midst of the valleys,' &c. * That they may see, and know, and 
 consider, and understand together, that the hand of the Lord 
 hath done this, and the Holy One of Israel hath created it.' 
 
 So also, when pestilent enterprises, managed by close fraud, 
 or by impetuous violence, are brought to a head, and come near 
 to the point of being executed ; the sudden detection or season- 
 able obstruction of them do argue the ever vigilant eye and the 
 all-powerful hand to be engaged : God ever doth see those 
 deceitful workers of iniquity, laying their mischief in the dark ; 
 he is always present at their cabals and clandestine meetings, 
 wherein they brood on it. He often doth suffer it to grow on 
 to a pitch of maturity, till it be thoroughly formed, till it be 
 ready to be hatched, and break forth in its mischievous effects ; 
 then in a trice he snappeth and crusheth it to nothing. God 
 beholdeth violent men setting out in their unjust attempts, he 
 letteth them proceed on in a full career, until they reach the 
 edge of their design ; then instantly he checketh, putteth in a 
 spoke, he stoppeth, he tumbleth them down, or turneth them 
 backward. Thus was Haman's plot dashed, when he had pro- 
 cured a royal decree, when he had fixed a time, when he had 
 issued forth letters to destroy God's people. Thus was Pharaoh 
 overwhelmed, when he had just overtaken the children of 
 Israel. Thus were the designs of Abimelech, of Absalom, of 
 Adonijah, of Sanballat nipped. Thus when Sennacherib with 
 an unmatchable host had encamped against Jerusalem, and had 
 to appearance swallowed it, God did ' put a hook into his nose, 
 and turned him back into his own land.' Thus when Antiochus 
 was marching on furiously to accomplish his threat of turning 
 Jerusalem into a charnel, a noisome disease did intercept his 
 progress. Thus when the profane Caligula did mean to dis-
 
 268 BARROW. — SERMON XI. 
 
 charge his bloody rage on the Jews, for refusing to worship 
 him, a domestic sword did presently give vent to his revengeful 
 breath. Thus also, when Julian had by his policy and author- 
 ity projected to overthrow our religion, his plot soon was 
 quashed, and his life snapped away by an unknown hand. 
 Thus, ' whenever the enemy doth come in like a flood,' (threa- 
 tening immediately to overflow and overturn all things,) ' the 
 Spirit of the Lord doth lift up a standard against him ;' that is, 
 God's secret eflScacy doth suddenly restrain and repress his 
 outrage. This usually is the method of divine providence. 
 God could preventthe beginnings of wicked designs;* he could 
 supplant them in their first onsets ; he could any where sufila- 
 minate and subvert them : but he rather winketh for a time, 
 and suftereth the designers to go on, till they are mounted f to 
 the top of confidence, and good people are cast on the brink of 
 ruin ; then atto i.irix(iyns,X surprisingly, unexpectedly he striketh 
 in with eftectual surcor ; so declaring how vain the presumption 
 is of impious undertakers ; how needful and sure his protection 
 is over innocent people ; how much reason the one hath to dread 
 him, and the other to confide in him. Then is God seen, then 
 his care and power vf\\\ be acknowleged, when he snatcheth us 
 from the jaws of danger, when * our soul doth escape as a bird 
 out of the snare of the fowler.' 
 
 :3. Another character of special providence is, the great 
 utility and beneficialness of occurrences, especially in regard 
 to the public state of things, and to great personages, in whose 
 welfare the public is much concerned. To entitle every petty 
 chance that arriveth to special providence, may signify light- 
 ness; to father on God the mischiefs issuing from our sin and 
 folly, may savor of profaneness ; but to ascribe every grand§ and 
 ))eneficial event unto his good hand, hath ever been reputed 
 
 * Et 5e jUTj e'/c TTpooifiiaiv, jUTjSe ivdews, edos avr^ roiovrov, &C. — Vid. 
 Chrys. ad Olymp. 
 
 t "Orau Kopv(pa)dri, '6rav av^rjBfi, &C. — Ibid. 
 
 I Nee Deus intersit, nisi diguus viudice nodus 
 
 Incident. 
 § iMagna dii curant, parva negligunt. — Cic. il. do Nat. Deor.
 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 269 
 
 wisdom and justice. *' It hath been," saith Balbus in Cicero, 
 ' a common opinion among the ancients, that whatever did 
 bring great benefit to mankind, was never done without divine 
 goodness toward men."* And well might they deem it so, 
 seeing to do so is most agreeable to his nature, and appertain- 
 ing to his charge, and may appear to be so by good argumen- 
 tation a priori. For, that God doth govern our affairs, may 
 be deduced from his essential attributes ; and, consequently, 
 that he doth in especial manner order these things, which are 
 the most proper and worthy objects of his governance. God 
 indeed doth not disregard any thing ; he watcheth over the 
 least things by his general and ordinary providence ; so that 
 nothing in nature may deviate from its course, or transgress the 
 bounds prescribed to it. He thereby * clotheth the grass of the 
 field ;' ' he provideth for the raven his food, and the young lions 
 seek their meat from him ;' without his care ' a sparrow doth 
 not fall to the ground ;' by it, * all the hairs of our head 
 are numbered.' But his more special hand of providence is 
 chiefly employed in managing affairs of great moment and 
 benefit to mankind ; and peculiarly those which concern his 
 people, who do profess to worship and serve him ; whose wel- 
 fare he tendereth with more than ordinary care and affection. 
 He therefore hath a main stroke in all revolutions and changes 
 of state : he presideth in all great counsels and undertakings ; 
 in the waging of war, in the settlement of peace ; in the dispen- 
 sation of victory and good success. He is peculiarly interested 
 in the protection of princes, the chief ' ministers of his king- 
 dom ;' and in preservation of his people, the choice object of 
 his care, from violent invasions, and treacherous surprises ; so 
 as to prevent disasters incident, or to deliver from them. ' It 
 is he that,' as the psalmist saith, *doth give salvation unto 
 kings ; who delivereth David his servant from the hurtful 
 sword.' It is he that continually ' keepeth Israel without ever 
 sleeping, or slumbering;' who 'is the hope of Israel, and the 
 Saviour thereof;' who * is in the midst of her, that she shall 
 
 * Quicquiil magnara utilitatem generi adferrct humano, id non 
 sine diviiia bonitate erga homines fieri arbitrabantur. — Cic. de Nat. 
 Door. lib. ii.
 
 270 BARROW. — SERMON XI. 
 
 not be moved ;' who hath declared that ' he will keep her, 
 and that right early ;' that ' he will not cast off his people, nor 
 forsake his inheritance;' that ' no weapon formed against his 
 church shall prosper;' that ' salvation belongeth to the Lord, 
 and his blessing is on his people.' When therefore any remark- 
 able event, highly conducing to the public good of church and 
 state, (supporting them in a good condition, or rescuing them 
 from imminent danger,) doth appear, it is most reasonable and 
 most just to ascribe the accomplishment thereof to God's hand. 
 When any pernicious enterprise, levelled against the safety of 
 prince and people, is disappointed, it is fit we should profess 
 and say, ' The righteous Lord hath hewn the snares of the 
 ungodly in pieces.' 
 
 4. Another like mark of special providence is, the righteous- 
 ness of the case, or the advantage springing from events unto 
 the maintenance of right, the vindication of innocence, the 
 defence of truth, the encouragement of piety and virtue. God 
 naturally is the judge of right, the guardian of innocence, the 
 patron of truth, and promoter of goodness. * The Lord is a 
 refuge to the oppressed :' ' he is a father of the fatherless, and 
 a judge of the widow :' ' he will maintain the cause of the 
 afflicted, and the right of the poor :' ' he executeth righteous- 
 ness, and judgment for all that are oppressed :' ' he blesseth 
 the righteous, and compasseth him with favor as with a shield :' 
 ' he preserveth the souls of the righteous, and delivereth them 
 out of the hand of the ungodly :' ' all his paths are mercy 
 and truth, unto such as keep his covenant and his testimonies.* 
 Whenever therefore right is oppressed, or perilously invaded ; 
 when innocence is grossly abused, or sorely beset; when piety 
 is fiercely opposed, or cunningly undermined ; when good men 
 for the profession of truth, or the practice of virtue, are perse- 
 cuted, or grievously threatened with mischief ; then may we 
 presume that God is not unconcerned, nor will prove backward 
 to reach forth his succor. And when accordingly we find that 
 signal aid or deliverance do then arrive, it is most reasonable 
 to suppose that God particularly hath engaged himself, and 
 exerted his power in their behalf. For seeing it is his proper 
 and peculiar work, seeing it most becometh and behoveth him 
 to appear in such cases, affording his helpful countenance
 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 271 
 
 when he doeth it, we should be ready to acknowlege it. In 
 such a case, ' the hand of the Lord shall be known toward 
 his servants, and his indignation toward his enemies,' saith the 
 prophet. 
 
 5. Another character is, the correspondence of events to the 
 prayers and desires of good men. For seeing it is the duty and 
 constant practice of good men, in all exigencies to implore 
 God's help ; seeing such prayers have, as St. James telleth us, a 
 mighty energy, it being God's property by them to be moved 
 to impart his powerful assistance ; seeing God most plainly 
 and frequently hath declared, and obliged himself by promise, 
 that he will hear them, so as to perform whatever is expedient 
 in their behalf; seeing we have many notable experiments 
 recorded in Scripture (as those of Asa, Jehosaphat, Hezekiah, 
 Elias, Daniel, and the like) of prayers bringing down wonder- 
 ful effects from heaven, with which the testimonies of all 
 times and the daily experience of good men do conspire ;* 
 seeing the presumption of such efficacy is the n)ain ground and 
 encouragement of devotion : we have great reason, whenever 
 events are answerable to such prayers, to ascribe the perform- 
 ance of them to God's hand : great reason we have in such 
 cases to cry out with David, ' Now know I that the Lord 
 saveth his anointed ; he will hear him from his holy heaven, 
 with the saving strength of his right hand :' just cause have we, 
 according to his pattern, thankfully to acknowlege God's favor 
 in answering our petitions ; ' The king,' said he, ' shall joy in 
 thy strength, O Lord, and in thy salvation how greatly shall 
 he rejoice ! For thou hast given him his heart's desire, and 
 hast not withholden the requests of his lips.' 
 
 G. Again, the proceedings of God (especially in way of 
 judgment, or of dispensing rewards and punishments) discover 
 their original by their kind and countenance, which usually do 
 bear a near resemblance, or some significant correspondence, 
 to the actions on which they are grounded. ' Punishments,' 
 
 * nrfcrai jivpidSes avSpuv Kal <pd\ayyes, ucras iKerevovTes ix6vov 7]tJ.i7s, Kal Geo? 
 PovXridds Kareipydaaro ; — Naz. Oral. 4. 
 
 How many myriads and squadrons of men were there, whom we 
 only praying, and God willing, discomfited? saith Nazianzene in re- 
 ference to the defeating of Julian's design.
 
 272 BARROW. — SERMON XI. 
 
 saith a Father, ' are the forced oflFsprings of willing faults :' and 
 answerably, rewards are the children of good deeds : and God, 
 who formeth both, doth commonly order it so, that the children 
 in their complexion and features shall resemble their parents. 
 So that the deserts of men shall often be legible in the recom- 
 pences conferred or inflicted on them : not according to the 
 natural result of their practice, but with a comely reference 
 thereto ; apt to raise in them a sense of God's hand, and to 
 wring from them an acknowlegement of his equity in so dealing 
 with them. So when humble modesty is advanced to honor, 
 and ambitious confidence is thrown into disgrace ; when libe- 
 rality is blessed with increase, and avarice is cursed with decay 
 of estate ; when craft incurreth disappointment, and simplicity 
 findeth good success ; when haughty might is shattered, and 
 helpless innocence is preserved ; when the calumnious tongue is 
 blistered, ' the flattering lips are cut off",' the blasphemous 
 throat is torn out ; when bloody oppressors have ' blood given 
 them to drink,' and come to welter in their own gore ; (an acci- 
 dent which almost continually doth happen ;) when treacherous 
 men by their own confidents, or by themselves, are betrayed ; 
 when retaliations of vengeance are ministered, extorting con- 
 fessions like to that of Adoni-bezek, * As I have done, so God 
 hath requited me ;' deserving such exprobrations as that of Sa- 
 muel to Agag, ' As thy sword hath made women childless, so 
 shall thy mother be childless among women ;' grounding such 
 reflexions as that concerning Antiochus, ' Thus the murderer 
 and blasphemer having suffered most grievously, as he en- 
 treated other men, so died he a miserable death;' by such oc- 
 currences the finger of God doth point out and indicate itself; 
 they speak themselves immediately to come from that just God, 
 who doth avTaTTohiboyat, render to men answerably to their 
 doings; who payeth men their due, sometimes in value, often 
 in specie, according to the strictest way of reckoning. ' He,' 
 as the prophet saith, ' is great in counsel, and mighty in work : 
 for his eyes are open to all the ways of the sons of men, to give 
 every one according to his ways, and according to the fruits of 
 his doings.' This indeed is a sort of administration most con- 
 formable to God's exact justice, and most conducible to his 
 holy designs of instructing and correcting offenders. He there-
 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 273 
 
 fore hath declared it to be his way. ' It is,' (saith the pro- 
 phet, directing his speech to the instruments of divine vengeance 
 on Babylon,) ' the vengeance of the Lord : take vengeance on 
 her ; as she hath done, do unto her.' And, * the day of the 
 Lord' (saith another prophet, concerning the like judgment on 
 Edom,) ' is near on "all the heathen : as thou hast done, it shall 
 be done unto thee ; thy reward shall return on thine own head,' 
 Thereby doth God mean to declare himself the Judge and Go- 
 vernor of men : for, ' I will,' saith he in Ezekiel, ' do unto 
 them after their way, and according to their deserts will I judge 
 them ; and they shall know that I am the Lord.' Farther, 
 
 7. Another argument of special providence is, the harmoni- 
 ous conspiracy of various accidents to one end or effect. If 
 that one thing should hit advantageously to the production of 
 some considerable event, it may with some plausibility be attri- 
 buted to fortune, or common providence : yet that divers things, 
 having no dependence or coherence one with the other, in 
 divers places, through several times, should all join their forces 
 to compass it, cannot well otherwise than be ascribed to God's 
 special care wisely directing, to his own hand powerfully 
 wielding, those concurrent instruments to one good purpose. 
 For it is beside the nature, it is beyond the reach of fortune, to 
 range various ca'ises in such order. Blind fortune cannot ap- 
 prehend or catch the seasons and junctures of things, which 
 arise from the motions of causes in their nature indifferent 
 and arbitrary : to it therefore no such event can reasonably be 
 imputed. So to the bringing about our Lord's passion, (that 
 great event, which is so particularly assigned to God's hand,) 
 we may observe the monstrous treachery of Judas, the strange 
 malignity of the Jewish rulers, the prodigious levity of the peo- 
 ple, the wonderful easiness of Pilate, with other notable acci- 
 dents, to have jumped in order thereto. So also that a mali- 
 cious traitor should conceive kindness toward any, that he 
 should be mistaken in the object of his favor, that he should 
 express his mind in a way subject to deliberate examination, 
 in terms apt to breed suspicion where the plot was laid ; that 
 the counsellors should despise it, and yet not smother it ; that 
 the king instantly, by a light darted into his mind, should des- 
 cry it : these things so happily meeting, may argue God (who
 
 274 BARROW. — SERMON XI. 
 
 mouldeth the hearts, who guideth the hands, who enlighteneth 
 the minds of men) to have been engaged in the detection of this 
 day's black conspiracy. 
 
 Such are some characters of special providence ; each of 
 which singly appearing in any occurrence would in a conside- 
 rate man breed an opinion thereof; each of them being very 
 congruous to the supposition of it ; no such appearances being 
 otherwise so clearly and cleverly explicable, as by assigning 
 the divine hand for their principal cause. But the connexion 
 of them all in one event (when divers odd accidents do befal 
 at a seasonable time, according to exigency for the public 
 benefit, the preservation of princes, the security of God's peo- 
 ple, the protection of right, the maintenance of truth and piety, 
 according to the wishes and prayers of good men, with proper 
 retribution and vengeance on the wretched designers of mischief ; 
 such a complication, I say, of these marks in one event) may 
 thoroughly suflBce to raise a firm persuasion, to force a confi- 
 dent acknowlegement concerning God's providence, in any con- 
 siderate and ingenuous person : it readily will dispose such 
 persons on any such occasion to say, ' This is the Lord's doing, 
 and it is marvellous in our eyes.' 
 
 Notwithstanding therefore any obscurity or intricacy that 
 sometime may appear in the course of Providence, notwithstand- 
 ing any general exceptions that may by perverse incredulity be 
 alleged against the conduct of things, there are good marks ob- 
 servable, whereby (if we are not very blockish, drowsy, supine, 
 lazy, or froward ; if we will consider wisely, with industrious \ 
 attention and care, with minds pure from vain prejudices, and 
 corrupt affections) we may discern and understand God's doing. 
 Which to do is the first duty specified in my text : on which 
 having insisted so largely, I shall (hoping you will favor me ^ 
 with a little patience) briefly touch the rest. l|f 
 
 II. It is the duty of us all, on such remarkable occurrences 
 of Providence, to fear God : ' all men,' it is said, ' shall 
 fear.' It is our duty in such cases to be affected with all sorts 
 of fear : with a fear of awful dread, with a fear of hearty rever- 
 ence, with a fear of sober caution ; yea, sometimes with a fear 
 of dejecting consternation. When God doth appear ' clad 
 with his robes of vengeance and zeal,' denouncing and dis-
 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 275 
 
 charging judgment ; when he representeth himself ' fearful in 
 praises, terrible in his doings toward the children of men,' 
 ' working terrible things in righteousness ;' it should strike into 
 our hearts a dread of his glorious majesty, of his mighty power, 
 of his severe justice, of * his glorious and fearful name :' it 
 should instil into our minds a reverence of his excellent wis- 
 dom, his exceeding goodness, his perfect holiness : it should 
 breed in our souls a solicitous care of displeasing and provok- 
 ing him : it should cause us in our hearts to shake and tremble 
 before him. Then is that of the psalmist to be put in prac- 
 tice, ' let all the earth fear the Lord : let all the inhabitants 
 of the world stand in awe of him.' ' Tremble, thou earth, 
 at the presence of the Lord, at the presence of the God of 
 Jacob.' Such dispensations are in their nature declarative of 
 those divine attributes which do require such affections : they 
 are set before our eyes to cast us into a very serious and solemn 
 frame ; to abash and deter us from offending, by observing the 
 danger of incurring punishments like to those which we behold 
 inflicted on presumptuous transgressors ; on those who do hei- 
 nously violate right, or furiously impugn truth, or profanely 
 despise piety ; who earnestly prosecute wicked enterprises ; 
 who persecute the friends of God with outrageous violence, or 
 treacherous subtilty. On infliction of such punishments, ' all 
 the people shall hear, and fear, and do no more presumptu- 
 ously,' saith God himself, declaring the nature and drift of 
 them. They do plainly demonstrate that there is no presum- 
 ing to escape being detected in our close machinations by 
 God's all-seeing eye ; being defeated in our bold attempts by 
 God's almighty hand ; being sorely chastised for our iniquity 
 by God's impartial judgment. Extremely blind and stupid 
 therefore must we be, or monstrously sturdy and profane, if 
 such experiments of divine power and justice do not awe us, 
 and fright us from sin. ' When the lion roareth, who will not 
 fear?' 'When the trumpet is blown in the city, shall not the 
 people be afraid ?' Shall he, at whom ' the mountains quake, 
 and the hills melt ;' whose ' indignation the nations are not 
 able to abide ;' at whose * wrath the earth doth shake and 
 tremble;' at whose 'reproof the pillars of heaven are asto- 
 nished ;' shall he visibly frown, shall his wrath flame out, shall
 
 276 BARROW. — SERMON XI. 
 
 he shake his rod of exemplary vengeance over us, and we stand 
 void of sense or fear ? If so, then surely a brutish dotage, or 
 a gigantic stoutness doth possess us. 
 
 III. We are in such cases obliged to * declare God's work :' 
 that is, openly to acknowlege and avow, to applaud and cele- 
 brate the special providence of God, with his adorable perfec- 
 tions displayed in such events ; to the glory of God's name, in 
 expression of our reverence and gratitude toward him, for the 
 common edification of men ; for which uses they greatly serve, 
 to which purposes they are designed. We should not view 
 such providential occurrences, like dumb beasts, with a dull or 
 careless silence, as if we did not mind them, or were not con- 
 cerned in them : we should not suppress or stifle the knowlege 
 of them in our breasts, as if they were barely matters of private 
 consideration and use ; we should not let our observation and 
 resentment of them be fruitless, so as to yield no honor to 
 God, no benefit to man. But we should propagate and 
 convey them into others : in so loud a tone, in so lively a strain 
 we should vent them, as thereby to excite the notice, to 
 inflame the aftections of all men within the reach of our voice ; 
 provoking them to conspire with us in acknowlegement of God's 
 power and wisdom, in acclamation to his justice and goodness. 
 This is the due improvement of our glory ; that peculiar ex- 
 cellency, wherein chiefly (except in our reason) we do surpass 
 all creatures ; that without which our reason itself is more 
 than half unprofitable ; that whereby we put our best member 
 to its best use. For this we have the devout psalmist's pious 
 resolutions, his exemplary performances, his zealous wishes, his 
 earnest exhortations to guide and move us. * I will speak of 
 the glorious honor of thy majesty, and of thy wondrous works. 
 Men shall speak of the might of thy terrible acts ; and I will 
 declare thy greatness.' ' They shall speak of the glory of thy king- 
 dom, and talk of thy power.' So did he signify his resolution. 
 ' 1 have not hid thy righteousness within my heart; I have de- 
 clared thy faithfulness and thy salvation : I have not concealed^ 
 thy loving-kindness and thy truth from the great conajegation. 
 So his conscience testified of his practice. ' O that men wouldj 
 praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful worksJ 
 to the children of men : that they would offer the sacrifice of|
 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 277 
 
 thanksgiving, and declare his works with gladness.' So doth 
 he pour forth his desire. ' O clap your hands, all ye people ; 
 shout unto God with the voice of triumph.' ' Sing unto the 
 Lord, bless his name : show forth his salvation from day to 
 day.' ' Declare his glory among the heathen, his wonders 
 among all people.' ' Come and see the works of God..' ' Sing 
 forth the honor of his name, make his praise glorious.' ' O 
 give thanks unto the Lord ; call on his name ; make known 
 his deeds among the people.' So doth he summon, so doth he 
 urge us to this practice; and in his deportment we may see our 
 duty. 
 
 IV. It is peculiarly the duty and practice of good men 
 on such occasions to feel and to express religious joy. 'The 
 righteous shall be glad in the Lord.' Good men indeed then 
 have great matter, and much cause, on many accounts, to be 
 glad. 
 
 It becometh them to rejoice, as having an universal compla- 
 cence in God's proceedings, as gratefully relishing all dis- 
 pensations of Providence. They, as pious, are disposed to 
 bless and praise God for all things incident, and cannot there- 
 fore but rejoice ; joy being an inseparable companion of grati- 
 tude and praise. Hence, ' light is sown for the righteous, and 
 gladness for the upright in heart.' Hence, * the voice of sal- 
 vation and rejoicing is in the tabernacles of the righteous.' 
 Hence, ' rejoice in the Lord, O ye righteous : for praise is 
 comely for the upright;' is an exhortation backed with a very 
 good reason. 
 
 They cannot but find satisfaction in observing God's provi- 
 dence notably discovered, to the confirmation of their faith, and 
 cherishing their hopes ; together with the conviction of infide- 
 lity, and confusion of profaneness. ' Our heart,' saith the psalm- 
 ist, ' shall rejoice in him, because we have trusted in his holy 
 name.' ' I have trusted in thy mercy ; my heart shall rtjoice 
 in thy salvation.' ' The righteous shall see it, and rejoice; and 
 all iniquity shall stop her mouth.' 
 
 It is to them no small pleasure to behold God's holy perfec- 
 tions illustriously shining forth ; and the gl9ry of him (who is 
 the principal object of their love, their reverence, their hope, 
 and confidence) to be conspicuously advanced. ' Rejoice,'
 
 278 BARROW. — SERMON XI. 
 
 saith the psalmist, ' O ye righteous, and give thanks at the re- 
 membrance of his holiness.' ' Zion heard, and was glad, and 
 the daughters of Judah rejoiced, because of thy judgments, O 
 Lord.' ' For thou, Lord, art high above all the earth.' 
 
 It is to them ground of exceeding comfort, to receive so clear 
 pledges of God's love and favor, his truth and fidelity, his 
 bounty and munificence toward them, expressed in such watch- 
 ful care over them, such protection in dangers, such aid in needs, 
 such deliverance from mischiefs vouchsafed to them. Such 
 benefits they cannot receive from God's hand, without that 
 cheerfulness which always doth adhere to gratitude.* ' I will,' 
 saith David, ' sing unto the Lord, because he hath dealt boun- 
 tifully with me.' ' Because thou hast been my helper, therefore 
 in the shadow of thy wings I will rejoice.' ' My lips shall 
 greatly rejoice in thee ; and my soul, which thou hast re- 
 deemed.' ' I will be glad, and rejoice in thy mercy ; for thou 
 hast considered my trouble, and hast known my soul in adver- 
 sities.' ' The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we 
 are glad.' ' Let all those that put their trust in thee rejoice : 
 let them ever shout for joy, because thou defendest them.' 
 
 They are also greatly refreshed with apprehension of the happy 
 fruits sprouting from such dispensations of Providence : such 
 as are the benefit of mankind, the peace and prosperity of the 
 civil state, the preservation, settlement, enlargement, advance- 
 ment of God's church, the support of right, the succor of inno- 
 cence, the maintenance of truth, the encouragement and fur- 
 therance of piety; the restraint of violence, the discountenance 
 of error, the correction of vice and impiety. In these things 
 they, as faithful servants of God, and real friends of goodness, 
 as bearing hearty good-will and compassion to mankind, as 
 true lovers of their country, as living and sensible members of 
 the church, cannot but rejoice. Seeing by these things their 
 own best interest, (which is no other than the advantage of 
 goodness,) their chief honor, (which consists in the promotion 
 of divine glory,) their truest content, (which is placed in the 
 prosperity of Sion,) are highly furthered ; how can they look 
 
 * Sen. de Benef. ii. 22. Cum accipiendum judicaverimus, biiares 
 accipiamus, profitentes gaudium, &c. — Yid. ib. 30.
 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 279 
 
 on them springing up, without great delight and complacence ? 
 ' O,' saith the psalmist, 'sing unto the Lord — for he hath done 
 marvellous things. He hath remembered his mercy and his 
 truth toward the house of Israel: all the ends of the earth have 
 seen the salvation of our God,' And ' sing, O heavens,' crieth 
 the prophet, * and be joyful, O earth, and break forth into 
 singing, O ye mountains : for the Lord hath comforted his 
 people, and will have mercy on his afflicted.' And, 'when,' 
 saith he, ' ye shall see this, (the comfort of God's people,) 
 your heart shall rejoice, and your bones shall florish like an 
 herb : and the hand of the Lord shall be known toward his 
 servants, and his indignation toward his enemies.' 
 
 Even in the frustration of wicked designs, attended with se- 
 vere execution of vengeance on the contrivers and abettors of 
 them, they may have a pleasant satisfaction ; they must then 
 yield a cheerful applause to divine justice. 'The righteous,' 
 saith the psalmist, ' shall rejoice when he seeth the vengeance :' 
 and, ' let the wicked,' saith he, ' perish at the presence of 
 God ; but let the righteous be glad, let them rejoice before 
 God, yea, let them exceedingly rejoice.' Whence, at God's 
 infliction of judgment on Babylon, it is said in Jeremy, ' then 
 the heaven, and the earth, and all that is therein, shall sing for 
 Babylon ;' and at the fall of mystical Babylon, in the Apo- 
 calypse it is likewise said, ' Rejoice over her, thou heaven, and 
 ye holy Apostles and prophets; for God hath avenged you on 
 her.' Farther, 
 
 V. The next duty prescribed to good men in such case is, to 
 ' trust in God,' that is, to have their affiance in God "^on all 
 such like occasions, in all urgencies of need) settled, improved, 
 and corroborated thereby. This indeed is the proper end, im- 
 mediately regarding us, of God's special providence, disclosing 
 itself in any miraculous or in any remarkable way ; to nourish in 
 well-disposed minds that faith in God which is the root of all 
 piety, and ground of devotion. Such experiments are sound 
 arguments to persuade good men that God doth govern and 
 order things for their best advantage ; they are powerful incen- 
 tives, driving them in all exigencies to seek God's help ; they 
 are most convincing evidences that God is abundantly able.
 
 280 BARROW. — SERMON XI. 
 
 very willing, and ever ready to succor them. * They,' saith the 
 psalmist, ' that know thy name will put their trust in thee ; for 
 thou. Lord, hast not forsaken them that seek thee.' And, ' I,' 
 saith he, ' will abide in thy tabernacle for ever ; I will trust 
 in the covert of thy wings : for thou, O God, hast heard my 
 vows : thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from 
 the enemy.' It is indeed a great aggravation of diffidence in 
 God, that having ' tasted and seen that the Lord is good ;' 
 having felt so manifest experience of divine goodness ; having 
 received so notable pledges of God's favorable inclination to 
 help us; we yet will not rely on him. As a friend, who by 
 signal instances of kindness hath assured his good-will, hath 
 great cause of offence if he be suspected of unwillingness in a 
 needful season to afford his relief: so may God most justly be 
 displeased, when we, (notwithstanding so palpable demon- 
 strations of his kindness,) by distrusting him, do in effect ques- 
 tion the sincerity of his friendship, or the constancy of his good- 
 ness toward us. 
 
 VI. Good men on such occasions should glory : ' all the up- 
 right in heart shall glory.' Should glory, that is, in contem- 
 plation of such providences feeling sprightly elevations of mind 
 and transports of affection, they should exhibit triumphant de- 
 monstrations of satisfaction and alacrity. It becometh them not 
 in such cases to be dumpish or demure ; but jocund and crank 
 in their humor, brisk and gay in their looks, pleasantly flippant j 
 and free in their speech, jolly and debonair in their behavior; 
 every way signifying the extreme complacency they take in 
 God's doing, and the full content they taste in their state. They 
 with solemn exultation should triumph in such events, as in vic- 
 tories achieved by the glorious hand of God in their behalf, in 
 approbation of their cause, in favor toward their persons, for 
 their great benefit and comfort. They may (not as proudly 
 assuming to themselves the glory due to God, but as gratefully 
 sensible of their felicity springing from God's favor) sejactare, 
 se laudibus efferre, (as the Hebrew word doth signify ;) that is, 
 in a sort boast, and commend themselves as very happy in theil 
 relation to God, by virtue of his protection and aid. They] 
 may (not with a haughty insolence, or wanton arrogance, but
 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 281 
 
 with a sober confidence and cheerfulness) insult on baffled im- 
 piety,* by their expressions and demeanor upbraiding the folly, 
 the baseness, the impotency and wretchedness thereof, in com- 
 petition with the wisdom, in opposition to the power of God, 
 their friend and patron. For such carriage in such cases we 
 have the practice and the advice of the psalmist to warrant 
 and direct us. ' In God,' saith he, * we boast all the day long, 
 and praise thy name for ever.' ' Thou, Lord, hast made me glad 
 through thy work ; and I will triumph in the works of thy 
 hands.' ' We will rejoice in thy salvation ; and in the name 
 of our God we will set up our banners.' ' Glory ye in his holy 
 name ; let the heart of them rejoice that seek the Lord.' ' Sing 
 unto him, sing psalms unto him : talk ye of all his wondrous 
 works.' ' Save us, O Lord our God, and gather us from among 
 the heathen, to give thanks unto thy name, and to triumph in 
 thy praise.' Such should be the result (on us) of God's merci- 
 ful dispensations toward his people. 
 
 I shall only farther remark that the word here used is by 
 the Greek rendered, e-KaiveQuaovrai, ' they shall be praised :' 
 which sense the original will bear, and the reason of the case 
 may admit. For such dispensations ever do adorn integrity, 
 and yield commendation to good men. They declare the wis- 
 dom of such persons, in adhering to God, in reposing on God's 
 help, in embracing such courses which God doth approve and 
 bless : they plainly tell how dear such persons are to God ; 
 how incomparably happy in his favor, how impregnably safe 
 under his protection ; as having his infallible wisdom and his 
 invincible power engaged on their side. This cannot but ren- 
 der them admirable, and their state glorious in the eyes of all 
 men ; inducing them to profess with the psalmist, ' Happy is 
 the people, which is in such a case ; yea, happy is that people, 
 whose God is the Lord.' And of such a people, that declara- 
 tion from the same mouth is verified, ' In thy name shall they 
 rejoice all the day long, and in thy righteousness shall they be 
 exalted: for thou art the glory of their strength, and in thy 
 favor their horn shall be exalted.' 
 
 * Psal. lii. 6. 7. The righteous shall laugh at him, (or, deride 
 him, in this manner;) Lo, this is the man that made not God his 
 strength.
 
 282 BARROW. — SERMON XI. 
 
 Such are the duties suggested in our text, as suiting these 
 occasions, when God in a special manner hath vouchsafed to 
 protect his people, or to rescue them from imminent mischiefs, 
 by violent assault or by fraudulent contrivance levelled against 
 them. I should apply these particulars to the present case 
 solemnised by us : but I shall rather recommend the applica- 
 tion to your sagacity, than farther infringe your patience, by 
 spending thereon so many words as it would exact. You do 
 well know the story, which by so many years repetition hath 
 been impressed on your minds : and by reflecting thereon. 
 
 You will easily discern how God, in the seasonable disco- 
 very of this execrable plot, (the masterpiece of wicked machi- 
 nations ever conceived in human brain, or devised on this side 
 hell, since the foundation of things,) in the happy deliverance 
 of our nation and church from the desperate mischiefs intended 
 toward them, in the remarkable protection of right and truth, 
 did signalise his providence. 
 
 You will be affected with hearty reverence toward the gra- 
 cious author of our salvation, and with humble dread toward 
 the just awarder of vengeance on those miscreant wretches, 
 who ' digged this pit and fell into it themselves.' 
 
 You will be ready with pious acknowlegement and admira- 
 tion of God's mercy, his justice, his wisdom, to declare and 
 magnify this notable work done by him among us. 
 
 You must needs feel devout resentments of joy for the glory 
 arising to God, and the benefits accruing to us in the preserva- 
 tion of God's anointed, our just sovereign, with his royal pos- 
 terity : in the freeing our country from civil broils, disorders, 
 and confusions ; from the yokes of usurpation and slavery ; 
 from grievous extortions and rapines ; from bloody persecutions 
 and trials, with the like spawn of disastrous and tragical con- 
 sequences, by this design threatened on it : in upholding our 
 church (which was so happily settled, and had so long glo- 
 riously florished) from utter ruin : in securing our profession 
 of God's holy truth, the truly catholic faith of Christ, (refined 
 from those drossy alloys, wherewith the rudeness and sloth of 
 blind times, the fraud of ambition and covetous designers, 
 the pravity of sensual and profane men had embased and cor- 
 rupted it,) together with a pure worship of God, an edifying
 
 ON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON. 283 
 
 administration of God's word and sacraments, a comely, whole- 
 some, and moderate discipline, conformable to divine prescrip- 
 tion and primitive example ; in rescuing us from having im- 
 pious errors, scandalous practices, and superstitious rites, with 
 merciless violence obtruded on us : in continuing therefore to 
 us the most desirable comforts and conveniences of our lives. 
 
 You farther considering this signal testimony of divine good- 
 ness, will thereby be moved to hope and confide in God for his 
 gracious preservation from the like pernicious attempts against 
 the safety of our prince and welfare of our country, against 
 our peace, our laws, our religion ; especially from Romish 
 zeal and bigotry, (that mint of woful factions and combustions, 
 of treasonable conspiracies, of barbarous massacres, of horrid 
 assassinations, of intestine rebellions, of foreign invasions, of 
 savage tortures and butcheries, of ' holy leagues and pious 
 frauds,' through Christendom, and particularly among us,) 
 which as it without reason damneth, so it would by any means 
 destroy all that will not crouch thereto. 
 
 You will, in fine, with joyous festivity, glory and triumph 
 in this illustrious demonstration of God's favor toward us ; 
 so as heartily to join in those due acclamations of blessing and 
 praise. 
 
 * Blessed be the Lord, who hath not given us as a prey to 
 their teeth. Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of 
 the fowlers : the snare is broken, and we are escaped.' 
 
 ' Alleluiah ; salvation, and glory, and power unto the Lord 
 our God : for true and righteous are his judgments.' 
 
 ' Great and marvellous are thy works, O Lord God Almighty ; 
 just and true are thy ways, O thou King of saints.' 
 
 ' Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, who only doth won- 
 drous things. And blessed be his glorious name for ever : 
 and let the whole earth be filled with his glory. Amen, and 
 Amen.'
 
 284 SUMMARY OF 
 
 SUMMARY OF SERMON XII. 
 
 PSALM CXXXII. — VERSE 16. 
 
 The context given : exordium on the joyful and solemn rite 
 which this discourse is intended to celebrate: occasion and 
 general importance of the text. The particular promise now 
 to be treated of; in which may be observed, 1. the Promiser, 
 / ; 2. the persons especially concerned in the promise, her 
 priests : 3, the thing promised, clothing with salvation. 
 
 I. The Promiser, /; that is, the Lord, the most true, con- 
 stant, and powerful God, whose words are right, and all whose 
 works are done in truth; who will not break his covenant, nor 
 alter the thing that is gone out of his lips, &c. On his 
 glorious attributes and perfections we rely for the performance 
 of his promises. 
 
 II. The persons whom the promise mainly regards, her 
 priests; that is, persons peculiarly devoted to and employed 
 in sacred matters, &:c. And her priests, that is, the priests of 
 Sion ; of that Sion, which the Lord hath chosen, which he hath 
 resolved to rest and reside in for ever: whence it appears that 
 the priests and pastors of the Christian church are hereby, if 
 not solely, at least principally designed. This confirmed by 
 the following arguments: 1. because the covenant here men^ 
 tioned is not (as to its main parts) of a conditional or temporary 
 nature, but absolute and perpetual, and must therefore respect 
 the Christian church, that of the Jews having long since been 
 overthrown : this enlarged on. 2. The completion of this 
 individual promise is by the prophets foretold, and expressed
 
 SERMON XII. 285 
 
 by the evangelists, to appertain to the times of the gospel : 
 this point commented on and explained. 3. That by the Sion 
 here mentioned is not chiefly meant that material mountain in 
 Judea, but rather that mystical rock of divine grace and truth 
 on which the Christian church, the only everlasting temple of 
 God, is seated, is more than probable from the constant accep- 
 tation of it in this sense by the prophets, &c. : this shown. 
 4. The manner of the delivery of this covenant, and its con- 
 firmation by the divine oath, argues the unconditional, irrever- 
 sible, and perpetual constitution of it : see Heb. vi. 7. Hence 
 we may conclude that this promise principally belongs, and 
 shall infallibly be made good to the Christian priesthood. 
 Corollary from the preceding part of this discourse, that the 
 title o( priest deserves not the reproach that is sometimes pro- 
 fanely and unjustly cast on it, 
 
 III. The matter of the promise, clothing ivith salvation : 
 where it may be observed, first, that the usual metaphor of 
 being clothed, denotes in the sacred dialect a complete endow- 
 ment with, a plentiful enjoyment of, or an intire application to, 
 that thing or quality with which a person is said to be clothed : 
 this explained. Secondly, what is the salvation here men- 
 tioned? Salvation, when used absolutely, signifies properly in 
 the Hebrew, a deliverance from, or removal of all sorts of 
 inconvenience, and consequently an afiluence of all good things ; 
 in effect, the same which other languages call felicity and 
 prosperity : this point enlarged on ; whence it is deduced that 
 though the supreme accomplishment of all happiness, the 
 enjoyment of perfect bliss in heaven, be agreeable to the 
 Jewish acceptation of the word, yet temporal and external 
 welfare, conspicuous and visible in this world, is not excluded : 
 this enlarged on. The least that we can imagine here pro- 
 mised to the priests of Sion comprehends these three things : 
 1, a free and safe condition of life, that they shall enjoy 
 good security, liberty, and tranquillity : 2. a provision of
 
 286 SUMMARY OF 
 
 competent subsistence, so that they shall be furnished with such 
 reasonable supplies as may encourage them in the cheerful 
 performance of their duty : 3. a suitable degree of respect, 
 and a station among men which may commend them to general 
 esteem, and vindicate them from contempt. All this according 
 to the most moderate interpretation, the phrase implies ; and on 
 it we may confidently rely. This confidence may be improved 
 by considering the reasons that might induce Almighty God 
 to resolve and promise thus favorably to his priests. These 
 comprised under three heads. 1. It concerns God's honor. 
 2. The good of the church requires it. 3. Equity and the 
 reason of the case exacts it. The preacher's apology for 
 pleading in behalf of the sacred order of which he is a member. 
 It is said then, 
 
 I. God's honor is concerned, &c. They are in a peculiar 
 manner his servants, (Joel ii. 17. 2 Tim. ii. 24.) not like 
 ordinary Christians, but by way of excellency so styled. They 
 are his stewards (Tit. i. 7.). If the church be God's house, 
 and the priests the stewards of that house, it is surely no mean 
 station which they obtain therein. They are also builders of 
 that house (1 Cor. iii. 10.) ; co-operators with God (1 Cor. 
 iii. 9.) ; and, lastly, his ambassadors, delegated by him to treat 
 of peace, and to solicit a fair correspondence between heaven 
 and earth (2 Cor. v. 20.). The propriety and dignity of this 
 character enlarged on. Illustration of this dignity from that of 
 human government. 
 
 It is not a matter of slight consideration how plentiful a 
 provision was made for his priests by the Almighty, in that 
 policy which he himself framed, and of which he constituted 
 himself the head. And though we are not in all cases obliged 
 punctually to follow those political prescriptions, yet is the 
 reason of them perpetual, and the example to be reverenced, 
 especially since the custom of all times in some measure con- 
 spires to support it. Instances of extraordinary honor paid \o
 
 SERMON XII. 287 
 
 priests, through reverence of the Deity, in the cases of 
 Melchizedek, Potipherah, Jethro, and Aaron. 
 
 The Egyptian Hierophantae, Persian Magi, Gaulish Druids, 
 caliphs and muftis of the Mahometans, being passed over, the 
 peculiar veneration paid to their priests by the wise and 
 valiant Romans is dilated on. Exordium of Cicero's oration 
 ad Pontifices introduced. Example of our own magnanimous 
 ancestors on the same point considered. 
 
 II. The good of the church requires that the priesthood be 
 well protected, well provided for, and well regarded. That 
 men may be converted from iniquity, and brought to the sincere 
 practice of virtue, is the chief good of the church, that to which 
 the favor of God is annexed : and this good mainly depends, 
 partly on the due execution of the priestly office, partly on the 
 fit disposition of the people to comply therewith ; to both 
 which effects the comfortable estate of the priesthood is re- 
 quisite. The priest must be capable to instruct with advan- 
 tage, and the people disposed to learn ; but what alacrity can 
 he be master of, whose mind is continually distracted by care 
 and grief, the inseparable companions of a needy state? whose 
 spirit is dejected with constant regret and frequent disappoint- 
 ments ; who is perplexed with the difficulties, and incum- 
 bered with the varieties of secular business. The priests' lips 
 are expected to speak with boldness and authority ; but how 
 can necessary courage be cherished in the breast of him who 
 grovels on the ground, and crouches under a load of want and 
 disgrace ? 
 
 But admit it possible that such a man may be equal to this ; 
 that although extremely indigent, he may be sufficiently reso- 
 lute : with what regard will his free and faithful advice be 
 entertained ? Will not his moderate confidence be accounted 
 impudence, and his open sincerity of speech be styled unman- 
 nerly presumption ? This point enlarged on. 
 
 Almighty God, that he might conciliate credit unto, and
 
 288 SUMMARY OF 
 
 infuse a persuasive energy into the words of his prophets and 
 apostles, was pleased to distinguish them by extraordinary 
 gifts. Where such extraordinary commendations are wanting, 
 it is reasonable that the deficiency should be supplied by 
 ordinary and probable expedients. 
 
 It might be added, that a necessitous and despicable estate 
 commonly not only disturbs the mind and renders the spirits 
 dejected, but makes men peevish, greedy, and covetous, tempt- 
 ing them to unworthy courses. 
 
 Also that priests confer good on the state, which is secured 
 by the sincere instruction of men in the duties of obedience, 
 justice, and fidelity. Seeing therefore that the good of the 
 church, on various accounts, is so much concerned in the 
 welfare of the priests, it is very fitting they should have en- 
 couragement and respect. Concluding' serious admonition on 
 this head, from Heb, xiii. 17. 
 
 HI. Common equity and the reason of the case exacts that 
 safety, competent subsistence, and fitting respect be allowed to 
 the priests. If their personal qualities, commonly resulting 
 from a liberal, sober education in the schools of wisdom and good 
 discipline, be considered, who better deserve such treatment ? 
 
 True worth is not confined to any particular order of men ; 
 yet none would be wronged; if it were said that worth is to be 
 found no where more plentifully than in that of the priesthood. 
 What is it which advances men's nature, and adorns their 
 minds ? Is it knowlege ? The priests' lips preserve it. Is it 
 virtue ? Whence have greater examples of it proceeded than 
 from among them ? Is it piety ? It is their proper business to 
 promote it. 
 
 Faults they have had, and will always have ; for they are 
 but men, and subject to the common imperfections of a mortal 
 nature ; but perhaps if it were seemly to make comparisons, it 
 might be shown without difficulty that they have fewer and less 
 than any other distinct body of men, &c. 
 
 1
 
 SERMON XII. 28i) 
 
 But to waive this plea, consider their employment. Is there 
 any office attended with more wearisome toil, solicitous care, 
 and tedious attendance ? whence they are deservedly called 
 watchmen and shepherds : these points enlarged on. Report 
 of Maximinus by Eusebius, thatAe commanded only the gover- 
 nors of the church to be slaughtered, as authors of the growth 
 and prevalence of evangelical doctrine. ISTor is the practice of 
 that tyrant singular ; for they generally fall the first sacrifices 
 to outrageous persecution. 
 
 Is it not reasonable then that they, who for the service of 
 God and benefit of the church undergo such difficulties, and 
 are exposed to such hazards, should be sustained and refreshed 
 by proportionable encouragements? This topic enlarged on. 
 The nature of their profession also considered, which secludes 
 them from all ordinary means of temporal advancement. 
 
 Reflexions on the reasonableness, and goodness, and wisdom 
 of Almighty God in undertaking the protection, and asserting 
 the honor of his priests ; which, together Avith a consideration 
 that he has hitherto done so, may strengthen our reliance on 
 his promise. 
 
 Conduct of Christians in the first ages of Christianity, ages 
 not more dismal for suffering, than glorious for piety, consi- 
 dered. How passionately did they then love their pastors ! 
 how cheerfully did they contribute, out of a slender stock or 
 spoiled fortune, to their maintenance ! &c. Conduct of 
 Christians in the succeeding times, when Christianity shone 
 forth out of the scattered clouds of persecution : how the joyful 
 acclamations of the faithful people resounded in praise of their 
 victorious champions ! and how did the emperors themselves, 
 with outstretched arms and hearts enlarged, embrace the 
 authors of their happy conversion, and rescind all laws pre- 
 judicial to their welfare ! and this occurred not only in the 
 Roman empire, but in other nations which afterwards embraced 
 
 BAR. VOL. I. N
 
 290 SUMMARY OF SERMON XII. 
 
 Christianity ; as in the case of the Goths, Vandals, Lom- 
 bards, &c. 
 
 And ever since, whilst they have been the guardians of the 
 safety of others, they have not themselves been deprived of 
 protection ; have abounded rather than wanted ; have been 
 cherished by princes and nobles, who have relied on their 
 advice, and intrusted them with their highest concerns. 
 
 It is true that God's promise is not affixed to all parts of 
 time, to all particularities of place, to all determinate circum- 
 stances of things. The priests may now and then suffer, be 
 plundered, ejected ; but they may also be soon restored, re- 
 possessed, and re-advanced, &c. God may for a while hide 
 his face from us, but he will not for ever turn his back on us : 
 the honor of the priesthood may for a while be eclipsed in some 
 part of the world ; but it shall never suffer a total eclipse, 
 nor be swallowed up in a perpetual night.
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON. 291 
 
 SERMON XII. 
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON.* 
 
 PSALM CXXXII. — VERSE 16. 
 
 I will also clothe her priests with salvation. 
 
 The context runs thus : ' The Lord hath sworn in truth 
 unto David ; he will not turn from it ; Of the fruit of thy body 
 will I set on thy throne. If thy children will keep my cove- 
 nant and my testimony that I shall teach them, their children 
 shall also sit on thy throne for evermore. For the Lord hath 
 chosen Zion : he hath desired it for his habitation. This is my 
 rest for ever : here will I dwell ; for I have desired it. I will 
 abundantly bless her provision : I will satisfy her poor with 
 bread. I will also clothe her priests with salvation ; and her 
 saints shall shout aloud for joy. There will I make the horn 
 of David to bud,' &c. 
 
 If all, not only inaugurations of persons, but dedications 
 even of inanimate things to some extraordinary use, hath been 
 usually attended with especial significations of joy and festival 
 solemnity ; with great reason the consecration of a person to so 
 high and sacred a function as that of a Christian bishop, (that 
 is, of a prince, or principal pastor in God's church,) requires 
 most peculiar testimonies of our gratulation and content : the 
 face of things ought then to be serene and cheerful ; the thoughts 
 of men benign and favorable ; the words comfortable and aus- 
 picious, that are uttered on such occasion. And that onrs at 
 
 * Henry the Seventh's chapel, July 4, 1663, at Ihc Bisliop of 
 Man's consecration.
 
 292 BARROW. — SERMON XII. 
 
 present should be such, the subject as well as the season of our 
 discourse doth require. Words few, but pregnant, and afford- 
 ing ample matter for our best affections to work on : and which 
 more particularly will engage us, both to a hearty thankfulness 
 for past benefits, and to a confident expectation of future bles- 
 sings ; while they acquaint us with the ancient exhibition of a 
 gracious promise, remind us of the faithful performance thereof 
 hitherto, and assure us of its certain accomplishment for the 
 future. The occasion whereof was this : 
 
 King David, moved by a devout inclination to promote 
 God's honor, and benefit the church, had vowed to build a 
 magnificent temple, imploring God's propitious concurrence 
 with, and approbation of, his design. Whereon Almighty God 
 not only declares his acceptance of that pious resolution, but 
 rewards it with a bountiful promise, consisting of two parts ; 
 one conditional, relating to David's children and posterity, that 
 they in an uninterrupted succession should for ever enjoy the 
 royal dignity, in case they did constantly persist in observing 
 his covenant, and the testimonies that he should teach them ; 
 the other more absolute, that however, what he chiefly intended 
 concerning God's established worship and the perpetual wel- 
 fare of the church, God would have an especial care that it 
 should fully and certainly be accomplished : that be would for 
 ever fix his residence in Sion ; that he would protect and 
 prosper it, and all that did belong thereto ; especially those 
 that did most need his favor and assistance, the poor, the priests, 
 and the saints, (or ' gentle ones.') This is briefly the impor- 
 tance of the general promise wherein is comprehended that par- 
 ticular one whereon we are to treat : and in which we may 
 observe, 
 
 1. The promiser, 'I.' 
 
 2. The persons who are especially concerned in the promise, 
 ' her priests.' 
 
 3. The thing promised, ' clothing with salvation.' 
 
 1. I say, the promiser, 'I:' that is, the Lord; the most 
 true, the most constant, the most powerful God; most true 
 and sincere in the declaration of his purpose, most constant and 
 immutable in the prosecution, most powerful and uncontrol- 
 lable in the perfect execution thereof : whose ' words are right.
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON. 293 
 
 and all whose works are done in truth :' who ' will not 
 break his covenant, nor alter the thing that is gone out of his 
 lips :' whose ' counsel shall stand, and who will do all his 
 pleasure.' These glorious attributes and perfections of his, so 
 often celebrated in holy writ, do ground our reliance on all 
 God's promises, and do oblige us, notwithstanding the greatest 
 improbabilities or difficulties objected, to believe the infallible 
 performance of this. 
 
 II. The persons whom the promise mainly regards, ' her 
 priests.' Priests, that is, persons peculiarly devoted to, and 
 employed in, sacred matters ; distinguished expressly from the 
 poor, (that is, other meek and humble persons ;) and from 
 the saints, (that is, all other good and religious men.) And, 
 her priests ; that is, the priests of Sion : of that Sion which 
 ' the Lord hath chosen ;' which * he hath desired for his per- 
 manent habitation;' which he hath resolved to 'rest and 
 reside in for ever.' Whence it plainly enough follows that 
 the priests and pastors of the Christian church are hereby, if 
 not solely, yet principally designed. Which interpretation, 
 because it is in a manner the foundation of our subsequent dis- 
 course, and by some it may perhaps not be readily admitted, 
 I shall endeavor farther to confirm by these few arguments. 
 
 1. Because the covenant here mentioned is not, as to the 
 main parts thereof, of a conditional or temporary nature, but 
 absolute and perpetual ; and must therefore be understood to 
 respect the Christian church : (that of the Jews being long- 
 since rejected, their temple demolished, their Sion utterly for- 
 saken.) For although one particular contained therein, con- 
 cerning the continual succession of David's posterity in the 
 regal authority over Israel, hath a condition explicitly an- 
 nexed ; (and, consequently, the effects depending on the per- 
 formance of that condition were contingent and mutable ;) yet 
 all the rest of this covenant (or promise) is conceived in terms 
 peremptory and expressly importing perpetuity. ' This is my 
 rest for ever,' nr njr, that is, as the Greek translators render it, 
 f.ls aliLva tov alUvos, {in seculum seculi,) that is, to the end of 
 this world ; as els nluipns ru/y aidjvojp denotes tlic end of all 
 worlds, or the most perfect sempiternity. And that it dotli 
 really in this case denote a proper and unlimited perpetuity, is
 
 294 BARROW. — SERMON XII. 
 
 also evident by those explications thereof in the eighty-ninth 
 Psalm, where the very same covenant is, as to some parts 
 thereof, more largely recorded, ' Once have I sworn by my 
 holiness, that I will not lie unto David : his seed shall endure 
 for ever, and his throne as the sun before me : it shall be esta- 
 blished for ever as the moon, and as a faithful witness in 
 heaven.' No words can express more fully a perpetual dura- 
 tion, or at least one co-extended with the duration of the 
 world, than those do. And the prophet Jeremy, referring also 
 to this very covenant, and particularly to this very clause 
 thereof, thus expresses the matter : ' Thus saith the Lord ; If 
 you can break my covenant of the day, and my covenant of the 
 night, and that there should not be day and night in their sea- 
 son ; then may also my covenant be broken with David my 
 servant, that he should not have a son to reign on his throne ; 
 and with the Levites the priests, my ministers.' But farther, 
 
 2. The completion of this individual promise is both by the 
 prophets foretold, and expressed by the evangelists, to apper- 
 tain to the times of the gospel. Ye heard even now the words 
 of Jeremy, which are by him applied to those times, when God 
 would cause ' the branch of righteousness' (that is, Jesus of 
 Nazaretli, our blessed Saviour) ' to grow up unto David, who 
 should execute judgment and righteousness in the land.' 'In 
 those days,' saith he farther, ' shall Judah be saved, and Je- 
 rusalem shall dwell safely : and this is the name wherewith she 
 shall be called,' (or rather, ' which he shall be called,' as not 
 only the vulgar Latin and the Greek interpreters, but the Chal- 
 dee also read it,) ' The Lord our righteousness.' Like- 
 wise in the fifty-fifth of Isaiah, God thus invites the Gentiles: 
 ' Incline your ear, and come unto me ; hear, and your soul 
 shall live : and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, 
 even the sure mercies of David :' that is, I will ratify that 
 everlasting covenant, which, in your behalf, I once made with 
 David, and will confer on you those favors which I faithfully 
 promised him ; relating to this very promise also. For both in 
 Solomon's prayer, (2 Chron. vi.) which in all probability was 
 indited about the same time, and on the same occasion with 
 this Psalm, and in the eighty-ninth Psalm, the benefits of the 
 same covenant are called ' the mercies of David.' ' O Lord
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON. 295 
 
 God, turn not away the face of thine anointed, remember the 
 mercies of David thy servant,' saith Solomon : and, ' My 
 mercy,' saith God, ' will I keep with him for evermore, and 
 my covenant shall stand fast with him :' and, ' My faithful- 
 ness and my mercy shall be with him ;' that is, ' my faitliful 
 (or sure) mercy ;' ra oVta Trtora, as the LXX. and St. Paul 
 with them in the Acts, render this place of Isaiah. And in 
 the song of Zachary we have one passage of this promise cited, 
 and applied to the times of the gospel : * Blessed be the Lord 
 God of Israel, who hath visited and redeemed his people ; and 
 hath raised up a horn of salvation in the house of his servant 
 David ; as he spake by the mouth of his holy prophets :' viz. 
 by the mouth of this prophetical psalmist here, where it is said, 
 'There will I make the horn of David to bud;' and in the 
 parallel Psalm Ixxxix. ' In my name shall his horn be exalted.' 
 To omit those many places where our Saviour, in correspon- 
 dence to this promise, is affirmed to ' possess the throne of his 
 father David,' and ' to rule over the house of Jacob for ever.' 
 Moreover, 
 
 3. That by the Sion here mentioned is not chiefly meant that 
 material mountain in Judea, but rather that mystical rock of 
 divine grace and evangelical truth, on which the Christian 
 church, the only everlasting temple of God, is unmoveably 
 §eated, is very probable, (or rather manifestly certain,) by the 
 prophets' constant acception thereof in this sense, when they 
 assign the character of perpetual durability thereto. As in 
 Isaiah Ix. where he thus prophecies of the Christian church : 
 'The sons also of them that afflicted thee shall come bending unto 
 thee, and all they that despised thee shall bow themselves 
 down at the soles of thy feet ; and they shall call thee The 
 city of the Lord, The Sion of the Holy One of Israel. Whereas 
 thou hast been forsaken and hated, so that no man went through 
 thee; I will make thee an eternal excellency, a joy of many 
 generations. Thou shalt also suck the milk of the Gentiles, 
 and shalt suck the breasts of kings,' &c. And the prophet 
 Micah, speaking of ' the last days' (that is, of the evangelical 
 times, ' when the mountain of the house of the Lord should be 
 established in the top of the mountains,') saitii thus : * And I 
 will make her that halted, a remnant ; and her that was cast far
 
 296 BARROW. — SERMON XII. 
 
 off, a strong nation ; and the Lord shall reign over them in 
 mount Sion from henceforth even for ever.' And the prophet 
 Joel, speaking of the same times, (when God ' would pour out 
 his spirit on all flesh,') hath these words : ' So shall ye know, 
 that I am the Lord your God, dwelling in Sion, my holy 
 mountain : then shall Jerusalem be holy, and there shall no 
 strangers pass through her any more.' All which places no 
 man can reasonably doubt, and all Christians do firmly consent 
 to respect the Christian church. To which we may add that 
 passage of the author to the Hebrews, (ch. xii. ver. 22.) 
 * But ye are come unto mount Sion, and unto the city of the 
 living God, the heavenly Jerusalem :' that is, to the Christian 
 church. 
 
 4. The manner of this covenant's delivery, and confirmation 
 by the divine oath, argues the inconditionate, irreversible, and 
 perpetual constitution thereof; for to God's most absolute and 
 immutable decrees this most august and solemn confirmation 
 doth peculiarly agree. So the Apostle to the Hebrews seems 
 to intimate : ' Wherein,' saith he, ' God, willing more abun- 
 dantly to demonstrate the immutability of his counsel, {embe'ilai 
 TO u^eraBeTov Trjs (3nv\fjs,) interposed an oath.' 
 
 We may therefore, I suppose, on these giounds, solidly and 
 safely conclude that this promise doth principally belong, and 
 shall therefore infallibly be made good, to the Christian priest* 
 hood ; to those who, in the Christian church, by ottering spi- 
 ritual sacrifices of praise and thanksgiving, by directing and 
 instructing the people in the knowlege of the evangelical law, 
 by imploring for and pronouncing on them the divine benedic- 
 tions, do bear analogy with, and supply the room of, the 
 Jewish priesthood. 
 
 From which discourse we may, by the way, deduce this 
 corollary : that the title of priest, although it did (as most 
 certainly it doth not) properly and primarily signify a Jewish 
 sacrificer, (or slaughterer of beasts,) doth yet nowise deserve 
 that reproach, which is by some, inconsiderately, (not to say 
 profanely,) on that mistaken ground, commonly cast on it; 
 since the holy Scripture itself, we see, doth here, even in that 
 sense (most obnoxious to exception) ascribe it to the Christian 
 pastors. And so likewise doth the prophet Isaiah; 'And 1
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON. 297 
 
 will also take of them for priests and for Levites, saith the 
 Lord :' speaking- (as the context plainly declares) of the 
 Gentiles, which should be converted and aggregated to God's 
 church. And the prophet .Tereniiah : 'Neither shall the 
 priests the Levites want a man before me to oft'er burnt offer- 
 ings, and to do sacrifice continually.' Which prophecy also 
 evidently concerns the same time and state of things, of which 
 the prophet Malachi thus foretels : * For, from the rising of 
 the sun to the going down of the same, my name shall be 
 great among the Gentiles ; and in every place incense shall be 
 offered to ray name, and a pure offering.' It were desirable, 
 therefore, that men would better consider, before they enter- 
 tain such groundless offences, or pass so uncharitable censures 
 on either words, or persons, or things. But I proceed to the 
 
 III. Particular, which is the matter of the promise, ' cloth- 
 ing with salvation.' Where we may observe, 
 
 First, that the usual metaphor of being clothed doth in the 
 sacred dialect denote a complete endowment with, a plentiful 
 enjoyment of, or an intire application to, that thing, or quality, 
 with which a person is said to be clothed. So is God himself 
 said to be 'clothed with majesty and strength.' And David 
 prays that they might be ' clothed with shame and dishonor, 
 that did magnify themselves against him.' And in Ezekiel, 
 ' the princes of the isles,' being amazed by the ruin of Tyre, 
 are said ' to clothe themselves with tremblmg.' And that 
 bitter adversary of David (in Psalm cix. 18.) did ' clothe him- 
 self with cursing, as with a garment.' And Job avoucheth ot 
 himself, ' I put on righteousness, and it clothed me ; my judg- 
 ment was a robe and a diadem.' And St. Peter advises us to 
 ' put on,' or to ' be clothed with, humility.' Finally, Isaiah 
 introduces our Saviour speaking thus : ' I will greatly rejoice 
 in the Lord, my soul shall be joyful in my God; for he hath 
 clothed me with the garments of salvation, he hath covered me 
 with the robe of righteousness ; as a bridegroom decketh him- 
 self with ornaments, and as a bride adorneth herself with her 
 jewels.' So that, (as by these instances we may discern,) ' to 
 be clothed with salvation' is to be perfectly endowed there- 
 with ; to be invested with it as with a garment, which wholly
 
 208 
 
 BARROW. — SERMON XII. 
 
 incloseth and covereth the body, so that no part is left un- 
 guarded and unadorned thereby. 
 
 Secondly, but now what is that salvation with which the 
 priests of Sion shall be thus clothed? I answer: Salvation, 
 when it is put absolutely, and not conjoined with any particular 
 object, (or term from which,) doth in the Hebrew language 
 properly signify a deliverance from, or remotion of, all sorts of 
 inconvenience : and consequently, an affluence of all good 
 things: and in effect, the same which other languages call 
 felicity and prosperity, or design by terms equivalent to those : 
 the Hebrews having hardly any other word so properly corres- 
 pondent to those as this word ' salvation.' Whence that title 
 of ' Saviour,' and ' the God of salvation,' so often attributed to 
 Almighty God, imports as much as, the Dispenser of all good 
 gifts ; the great Benefactor, Assister, and Protector of men : 
 and to ' save' is promiscuously used for, to relieve the needy, 
 to comfort the sorrowful ; to restore the sick to his health, the 
 prisoner to his liberty, the captive to his country ; to defend 
 the weak from injury, and the humble from contempt; to 
 deliver the distressed from imminent danger, the innocent from 
 unjust condemnation, the slandered from undeserved reproach : 
 m a word, all the effects of God's goodness and power, the 
 whole work of the divine Providence and beneficence, are 
 hereby expressed. 
 
 We will recite one or two of those many places which con- 
 firm this notion : Psalm Ixxxv. 9. ' Surely his salvation is 
 nigh them that fear him, that glory may dwell in our land.' 
 'His salvation is nigh;' that is, his loving care attends on 
 them, to assist and preserve them ; which, in Psalm cxlv. 19. is 
 thus otherwise expressed : ' he will fulfil the desire of them 
 that fear him ; he will hear their cry, and will save them.' 
 And again. Psalm cxlix. 4. ' The Lord taketh pleasure in his 
 people ; he will beautify the meek with salvation :' that is, he 
 will, by his good providence, dispose them into a convenient 
 and decent condition of life. And again. Psalm cxliv. 10. 
 ' It is he that giveth salvation unto kings ;' that is, by whose 
 gracious disposal they prosper, and are preserved in dignity^ 
 plenty, and safety.
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON. 299 
 
 I will not, by citation of places, labor to confirm so obvious 
 a notion : it may suffice for that purpose, that the supreme ac- 
 complishment of all happiness, the enjoyment of perfect bliss in 
 heaven, is, in agreement with this Jewish acception of the 
 word, most commonly styled ' salvation.' But I must add, that, 
 whereas salvation may relate either to the outward estate of a 
 man's body, life, and fortunes, or to the internal dispositions of 
 the mind; to our present condition in this world, or to our 
 future and eternal estate : it doth seem here (I say not, to ex- 
 clude the latter altogether, yet) more directly and principally 
 to respect the former, viz, that external and temporal welfare, 
 which is conspicuous and visible in this world. My reason is, 
 because the other parts of this prophetical promise do, in their 
 most natural acception, signify that outward prosperity where- 
 with God would vouchsafe to bless his church : that abundant 
 ' benediction of her store,' that ' satisfying her poor with bread,' 
 that 'joyful exultation of her saints,' that ' clothing her enemies 
 with shame,' being expressions properly denoting a state of ex- 
 ternal good weal and comfort ; and, in consonance to them, 
 require that we thus likewise understand this phrase ; the 
 priests being also questionless designed to partake in this glo- 
 rious felicity of the church. Which is also confirmed by 
 other prophecies of the same tenor and intention : as particu- 
 larly that in Jer. xxxi. concerning the recollection of Israel, 
 and redemption of the spiritual Sion, it is said, ' 1 will satiate 
 the soul of the priests with fatness, and my people shall be sa- 
 tisfied with my goodness,' &c. 
 
 Now, although we may adventure safely to interpret the 
 declarations of the divine favor according to the most compre- 
 hensive sense of which tlie words are capaljJc, where they are 
 conceived : (it being the manner of the immensely-good God, 
 to exceed, rather than to be deficient, in the performance of 
 his word ; and to surpass the expectations he hath raised in us, 
 than anywise to disappoint them :) yet, however, the least we 
 can imagine here promised to the ' priests of Sion,' will com- 
 prehend these three things. 
 
 I. A free and safe condition of life : that they be not ex- 
 posed to continual dangers of ruin ; of miserable sufferance, or 
 remediless injury: that the benefits of peace, and law, and
 
 300 BARROW. — SERMON XII. 
 
 public protection shall particularly appertain to them ; so that 
 their adversaries (if any they happen to have) shall not be in- 
 cited, by hope of reward or impunity, to hurt their persons, 
 rifle their goods, disturb their quiet ; but that they shall enjoy 
 good degrees of security, liberty, and tranquillity in this 
 w^orld. 
 
 2. A provision of competent subsistence for them : that their 
 condition of life be not wholly necessitous, or very penurious, 
 destitute of convenient accommodations, or depending altoge- 
 ther for them on the arbitrary benevolences of men, which is, 
 at best, but a more plausible kind of beggary ; but that they shall 
 be furnished with such reasonable supplies as are requisite to 
 encourage them in the cheerful performance of their duty. 
 
 3. A suitable degree of respect, and so high a station among 
 men, as may commend them to general esteem, and vindicate 
 them from contempt : that they be not reputed among the 
 dregs and refuse of the people ; that their persons be not base 
 and despicable, their names made the objects of vulgar oblo- 
 quy, their functions become prostitute to profane irrision ; but 
 that some considerable authority, some more than ordinary 
 regard and veneration accrue unto them from the high rela- 
 tions which they bear, and from the sacred business which they 
 manage. 
 
 All this at least (according to the most moderate interpre- 
 tation of the phrase) that abundant salvation doth imply, 
 wherewith God hath promised to ' invest the priests of Sion.' 
 
 We may therefore presume, or rather not presume, but con- 
 fidently rely on, and comfort ourselves in the expectation of 
 God's faithful continuance to fulfil this promise. We may 
 assure ourselves that neither the secret envy of them who re- 
 pine at those encouragements which God's providence hath 
 conferred on priests, nor the open malice of those that furiously 
 oppugn their welfare, shall ever prevail to overwhelm them 
 with extreme misery, penury, or disgrace ; since no endeavor of 
 earth or hell can ever be able to reverse this everlasting decree 
 of heaven, or to defeat that irresistible power which is engaged 
 to its execution. No inferior force can strip them naked of 
 that salvation, wherewith the Supreme Truth hath promised to 
 clothe them.
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON. 301 
 
 Which confidence of ours may be improved, by considering 
 the reasons that might induce Almighty God to resolve, and 
 promise thus favorably in behalf of his priests. (For though 
 we cannot penetrate the incomprehensible depths of the divine 
 counsel, nor should ever peremptorily conclude concerning the 
 determinate reasons of his actions; yet, when the M^isdoni of his 
 proceedings doth clearly approve itself to our understandings, 
 we ought readily to acknowlege it, and humbly to praise him 
 for it.) Now the reasons why divine providence should under- 
 take to preserve the priesthood in safety, to procure for them 
 liberal maintenance, and to raise them above a state of scorn 
 and infamy, may be especially these three. 
 
 1. It concerns God's honor. 
 
 2. The good of the church requires so. 
 
 3. Equity and the reason of the case exacts it. 
 
 In prosecuting which heads of discourse, I shall not seem to 
 you, I hope, to transgress the rules of modesty or decency. There 
 be certain seasons, wherein confessedly it is not only excusable, 
 but expedient also, to commend one's self; as when a man is 
 falsely accused, or unjustly afflicted. And with greater reason 
 sometime men are allowed to praise the country where they were 
 born and bred, the family to which they are allied, the society 
 to which they are more especially related. And if at this time 
 I assume the like liberty, the occasion, I hope, will apologise 
 for me. It becomes not me to be an adviser, much less a re- 
 prover, in this audience : may I therefore, with your favorable 
 permission, presume to be a commender, or, if you please, a 
 pleader for the welfare of this sacred order, although myself 
 an unworthy and inconsiderable member thereof. I say, there- 
 fore, 
 
 I. God's honor is concerned in the safe, comfortable, and 
 honorable estate of his priests ; and that on account of those 
 manifold relations, whereby they stand allied, appropriated, 
 and devoted to himself. 
 
 They are in a peculiar manner his servants. 'The servant of 
 the Lord,' saith St. Paul, ' must not strive, but be gentle unto 
 all men, apt to teach.' ' The servant of the Lord ;' who's that? 
 are not all men God's servants ? is not he Lord of all ? Yes ; 
 but a Christian priest, such as Timothy was, is by way of ex-
 
 302 BARROW. — SERMON XII. 
 
 cellency so styled. All men owe subjection, obedience, and 
 homage to God : but the priests are (his wTrrjperat, his XeL-ovpyoi) 
 his ministers, his officers, his immediate attendants, his domes- 
 tics, as it were, and menial servants; that approach his person, 
 that tread the courts of his house, that wear his proper badges, 
 that are employed in his particular business. And is it then 
 for God's honor, to suffer them to be abused, to want conve- 
 nient sustenance, to live in a mean and disgraceful condition? 
 Would it not redound to the discredit of an earthly prince to 
 permit that the attendants on his person, the officers of his 
 court, the executors of his edicts, should have the least injury 
 offered them, should fare scantly or coarsely, should appear in 
 a sordid garb ? Are they not therefore by especial privileges 
 guarded from such inconveniencies ? And shall the great King 
 and Lord of all the world be deemed less provident for, less 
 indulgent (not to say less just) unto his servants ? servants, I 
 say, and those not of the lowest rank, nor appointed to the 
 vilest drudgeries ; but such as are employed in the most ho- 
 norable charges, and are intrusted with his most especial con- 
 cernments. 
 
 They are his stewards. ' A bishop,' saith St. Paul, * must be 
 blameless, as the steward of God.' If the church be ohos Qeov, 
 God's house, or family, as it is called, and the priests the 
 oiKovonoi, the stewards of that house, the comptrollers of that 
 family ; it is surely no mean station they obtain therein. The 
 distribution of his bread, (the bread of life, his holy word,) and 
 the dispensation of his most precious goods, (the holy myste- 
 ries,) are committed to their care and prudence. ' Who then,' 
 saith our Saviour, ' is that faithful and wise steward, whom his 
 Lord shall make ruler over his household, to give them their 
 portion of meat in due season?' Who but the priests, who are 
 therefore styled both irpoeuTwres, ifyovfxevoi, Kvfiepvi]i}eis , ( presi- 
 dents, guides, rulers,) and Troi/ueres, (feeders or pastors) of the 
 church ? 
 
 Yea, they are o'lKobofioi also, the builders of that house, 
 founding it by initial conversion, rearing it by continued in- 
 struction, covering and finishing it by sacramental obsignation 
 of divine grace. ' As a wise architect,' saith St. Paul, ' I have 
 laid the foundation, and another builds on it.'
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON. 303 
 
 They are ffwepyol Qeov, * co-operators with God;' that ma- 
 nage his business, and drive on his designs ; the solicitors of his 
 affairs; the masters of his requests ; his heralds, that publish his 
 decrees, denounce his judgments, proclaim his pardons and acts 
 of grace unto his subjects ; that blazon his titles, and defend 
 his rightful authority in the world : yea, his ministers of state ; 
 the ministers (I say, absit invidia,) of his most glorious spiritual 
 kingdom; (which is peculiarly denominated the kingdom of 
 God;) the orderly administration of which, its advancement, 
 its preservation, and its enlargement, are especially commended 
 to their diligence and fidelity. 
 
 They are, lastly, God's ambassadors,* delegated by him to 
 treat of peace, and solicit a fair correspondence between heaven 
 and earth, 'Now then,' saith St. Paul, ' we are ambassadors 
 for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us : we pray you 
 in Christ's stead, be reconciled to God.' ' As though God did 
 beseech you by us :' see, they manage God's concernments, and 
 in a manner represent his person. At least, if the Apostles 
 were more properly God's ambassadors, the present ministers of 
 religion are his agents, and residents here among men, designed 
 to pursue the same negociations commenced by them. Now 
 you know by the law of nations, and common consent of all 
 men, all manner of security, good entertainment, and civil re- 
 spect hath been ever acknowleged due to ambassadors and pub- 
 lic ministers : their employment hath been esteemed honorable, 
 their persons held sacred and inviolable ; and whatsoever dis- 
 courtesy hath been showed unto, or outrage committed on them, 
 hath been interpreted done to him from whom they derive their 
 commission, whose person they represent. And so truly the 
 bad usage of God's priests, if not directly and immediately, 
 does yet really and truly, according to moral estimation, ter- 
 minate on God himself, and reflect on his honor, and prejudice 
 his religion : a due regard to which cannot be maintained with- 
 out proportionable respect to the ministers thereof. The basest 
 of the people may serve to be priests to Jeroboam's calves, but 
 not become the ministry of the God of Israel. 
 
 * Vide Mai. ii. 7. For the priest's lips should keep knowlcge, 
 and they should seek the law at his mouth : for lie is Iho messenger 
 of Ihe Lord of hosts.
 
 304 BARROW. — SERMON XII. 
 
 Do we not see the reverence of civil government upheld 
 more by the specious circumstances than by the real necessity 
 thereof: by the magnificent retinue and splendid ornaments of 
 princely dignity, than by the eminent benefits of peace and jus- 
 tice springing thence? Shall not (not only the greatest inward 
 worth, but) the highest nobility, if basely attired, badly at- 
 tended, slenderly accommodated, pass unregarded, yea, disre- 
 garded by us? men being generally either unable to discern, or 
 unwilling to acknowlege excellency divested of sensible lustre, 
 Religion therefore must be well habited, or it will be ill re- 
 spected : the priests must wear a comely (if not a costly) livery, 
 or God their master's reputation will be impaired in popular 
 fancy. 
 
 Consider David's reasoning : ' Lo, I dwell in a house of ce- 
 dars, but the ark of the covenant of the Lord remaineth under 
 curtains;' and compare such discourse therewith as this; and 
 judge candidly whether they have not some parity : Lo, my at- 
 tendants are clad with the finest purple, God's ministers are 
 covered with the coarsest sackcloth ; my people surfeit with 
 dainties, his servants pine away for scarcity ; my courtiers are 
 respectfully saluted, his priests scornfully derided ; no man dare 
 offend mine, every one may trample on his oflScers. 
 
 And lest we should imagine God himself altogether void of 
 such resentments, or such comparisons impertinent, consider 
 that disdainful expression of his ; ' if ye offer the blind for sa- 
 crifice, is it not evil ? and if ye offer the lame and sick, is it not 
 evil ? Ofter it now to thy governor ; will he be pleased with 
 thee, or accept thy person ? saith the Lord of hosts.' The 
 same testimonies of respect that we show our governors, God, 
 it seems, expects from us in all kinds, and may reasonably much 
 greater. 
 
 Nor is it a matter of slight consideration, how plentiful pro- 
 vision, in the policy devised and constituted by God himself, 
 was made for the priests ; how God assumes the immediate pa- 
 tronage of them, and appropriates the matter of their sustenance 
 unto himself. ' The priests,' saith the law, ' the Levites, and 
 all the tribe of Levi shall have no part nor inheritance with 
 Israel ; they shall eat the offerings of the Lord made by fire, 
 and his inheritance. Therefore they shall have no inheritance
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON. 305 
 
 among their brethren : the Lord is their inheritance.' So that 
 then, it seems, no man could withhold any part of the priests' 
 maintenance, without sacrilegious incroachment on God's own 
 right, and robbing him of his due : (which is the greatest secu- 
 rity of an estate imaginable.) How likewise (next to the prince) 
 the highest dignity and authority was then conferred on the 
 priests : to them the interpretation of law, to them the decision 
 of doubtful cases did appertain ; with severe injunctions to com- 
 ply with their determinations. See how the business is incul- 
 cated. ' If there arise a matter too hard for thee, between 
 blood and blood, between plea and plea, between stroke and 
 stroke, being matters of controversy within thy gates; then 
 shalt thou arise and get thee up into the place which the Lord 
 thy God shall choose : and thou shalt come unto the priests the 
 Levites, and unto the judge that shall be in those days, and in- 
 quire ; and they shall show thee the sentence of judgment. 
 And thou shalt do according to the sentence which they of that 
 place, which the Lord shall choose, shall show thee : and thou 
 shalt observe to do according to all that they inform thee. Ac- 
 cording to the sentence of the law which they shall teach thee, 
 and according to the judgment which they shall tell thee, thou 
 shalt do : thou shalt not decline from the sentence, which they 
 shall show thee, to the right hand, nor to the left. And the 
 man that will do presumptuously, and will not hearken to the 
 priest that standeth to minister there before the Lord thy God, 
 even that man shall die, and thou shalt put away evil from Is- 
 rael.' Observe with how eminent a power God then thought 
 fit to endow his priests.* 
 
 And though we are not in all cases obliged punctually to 
 follow those political prescriptions ; yet is the reason of them 
 perpetual, and the example venerable ; especially since the cus- 
 tom of all times, and the reason of all the world, doth in a sort 
 conspire to back it. 
 
 The first priest we meet with in Scripture is Melchizedek ; 
 
 * Kal yap iirnwrai ndvTcuv, koI SiKairrai twu aix(i>i(T&-nTovfj.evoiv, Koi KoKacnal 
 raiv KaTeyvairTfj.ei'wv ol lepels iraxdriffav, saitll .Josc'pllUS. 1 lit! Jiricsts were 
 eoristituled supervisors of all lliinss, and Judges of controverhics, 
 and punishers of oflences. 2. in Apionem.
 
 306 BARROW. — SERMON XII. 
 
 a king also; and such a one as the patriarch Abraham, (a prince 
 also himself, and, what is somewhat more, just then a con- 
 queror,) in the midst of his triumphal heights, was not ashamed 
 to acknowlege his superior, to honor him with a tribute of his 
 spoils, and to receive a benediction from him. The next (if I 
 mistake not) is Potipherah, priest of On, whose daughter was 
 not thought by the king of Egypt an unequal match for Joseph, 
 his chief favorite, and the next in dignity to himself in that 
 flourishing kingdom. (Though such an alliance would perhaps 
 be thought derogatory to the worships of our days.) The third 
 is Revel, or Jethro, priest of Midian, the father-in-law likewise 
 of the illustrious Moses ; a man as of approved wisdom, so 
 doubtless of considerable dignity too. And the next to him 
 (in order of story) is the venerable Aaron, no meaner a man 
 than the brother of him who was ' king in Jeshurun.' Thus all 
 nations, wise and ignorant, civil and barbarous, were by one 
 common instinct (as it were) of natural reason prompted, by 
 conferring extraordinary privileges of honor and convenience on 
 their priests, to express their reverence of the Deity, and their 
 affection to religion.* 
 
 I will not ransack the closets of antiquity, nor with needless 
 ostentation produce the Egyptian Hierophanta;, the Persian 
 Magi, the Gaulish Druids, the caliphs, and muftis of other 
 nations, to show what pre-eminences of respect they enjoyed, 
 what powerful sway they bore in their respective countries ; 
 how the most weighty affairs, both of peace and war, were 
 commonly directed by their oracular dictates. It shall suflSce 
 to observe that the gallant Romans, (whose devout zeal to re- 
 ligion Polybius himself, no especial friend of theirs, could not 
 forbear to admire and applaud,) I say, that the most wise and 
 valiant Eonians did set so high a value on the priestly order, 
 that if their principal magistrates (the praetors and consuls 
 themselves) did casually meet with one of Vesta's priests, they 
 caused immediately those dreadful rods, the ensigns of their 
 authority, to submit ; and they themselves respectfully gave 
 place, as if they meant to confess those priests in a manner 
 
 * Vid. Aristot. Pol. vii. 9. OUre yap yewpyhv, oiirf fidyavtrov lep4a xa- 
 raxTTaTiOW inrh yhp tuv iroMrwv irpeirei TtfiuffOai tovs Bfovs.
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON. 307 
 
 their betters.* Nor did they among them of the most noble 
 extraction, and of the highest dignity in the commonwealth, 
 (even after many glorious exploits achieved by them,) scorn- 
 fully disdain, but did rather ambitiously affect to be admitted 
 into the college of priests : insomuch that, after the dissolution 
 of the republic, the emperors thought good to assume the pon- 
 tifical dignity to themselves, supposing the office too honor- 
 able, the title too magnificent for a subject. For they wisely, 
 it seems, and honestly adjudged it no debasement of their qua- 
 lity, no diminution to their personal excellency, to be employed 
 in the service of the immortal gods ; whom they acknowleged 
 the patrons of their country, the protectors of their safety : nor 
 that they less deserved of the public, who rightly ordered their 
 religious devotions, than they who prudently advised in the 
 senate, or fought valiantly in the field : for that the good suc- 
 cess of public undertakings did as much, or more, depend on 
 the favorable disposition of divine Providence, as on the care- 
 ful endeavor of human industry. 
 
 I cannot forbear to allege that so grave and pertinent speech 
 of Cicero, which is the exordium of his oration ad Potitifices : 
 Cum multa divinitus, pontifices, a majoribus nostris invcnta 
 atque institute sunt ; turn nihil prceclarius, quam quod vos 
 eosdem ei religionibus deorum immortalium, et summce reip. 
 preeesse voluerunt : ut amplissimi et clarissimi cives rempubl. 
 bene gerendo, religiones sapienter interpretando , remp. con- 
 servarent. A wholesome and politic institution he thought 
 it, conducible to the public good and safety, that the civil and 
 sacred authority should be united in the same persons ; that it 
 was as well for the interest of the state, as for the credit of re- 
 ligion, that the priests should be men of honor, or (which is all 
 one) honorable men priests. 
 
 All which evinces plainly that it is in no wise the result of 
 a generous heart, (for what nation ever produced so many 
 brave spirits as that ?) but rather proceeds from an inconside- 
 rate delicacy of humor, (or from a profane haughtiness of mind,) 
 to loathe, as now men do, and despise that employment, which 
 
 * Uavra to. TTpdyfj-ara 'PoDfiaiois ds rhv Qehv aviiyiro, — Plut. in Marcello. 
 Sen. in Controv.
 
 308 BARROW. — SERMON XII. 
 
 in its own nature is of all most noble and most beneficial to 
 mankind. For if to be a courtier in a particular country, is of 
 all others the most honorable relation ; and to wait on a mortal 
 king is acounted a most worthy function : to be peculiarly 
 God's servant, and in religious addresses immediately to attend 
 on him, must consequently be the most excellent preferment in 
 the world, which is God's kingdom.* And if to supply a 
 man's bodily needs, to restore his liberty, to save his life, be 
 works of generous beneficence ; how much more is it so, by 
 good conduct and instruction of men, to adorn their souls with 
 virtue, to free them from the bondage of sin, to rescue them 
 from eternal ruin ? 
 
 Our magnanimous ancestors, who erected as well trophies 
 of their invincible courage abroad, as monuments of their in- 
 comparable piety at home, and equally by both did purchase 
 immortal renown to their ingrateful posterity, (for not to imi- 
 tate good example is the greatest inoratitude,) they, I say, 
 were otherwise disposed ; to whose honest devotion we owe 
 those handsome privileges, and those competent revenues, 
 which the priesthood still enjoys ; and which are so maligned 
 by this untoward age, not less degenerate in spirit than cor- 
 rupt in manners : when all wisdom, and virtue, and religion, 
 are almost in most places grown ridiculous : when the serious 
 use of reason is become (in vulgar opinion) the most imperti- 
 nent and insignificant thing in the world : when innocence is 
 reputed a mere defect of wit and weakness of judgment ; inte- 
 grity a fond pertinacity of humor ; constancy of mind and 
 gravity of demeanor, a kind of sullen morosity or uncouth 
 affectation of singularity ; and all strict practice of Christian 
 duty incurs the imputation of some new-found opprobrious 
 name, one or other. No wonder then, when religion itself 
 hath so much decayed in its love and esteem, if the priests, its 
 professed guardians, do partake in its fortune. Nor is it to 
 be feared but that, when the predominant vanities of the age 
 
 * Ilane plus decet hominis, quam Dei famulum nominari ? ar 
 terreni quara coelestis Regis officialem, altioris diicitur disjtiilatis? 
 Qui Clero militiam, forum anteponit Ecclesia?, divinis profecfo liu- 
 mana, coeleslibiis praeferre terrena convincitur. — Bern. Fpist. 78.
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON. 309 
 
 are somewhat decocted, and men grow weary of their own 
 inconvenient follies; whenever (not a fierce zeal for some 
 whimsical model, or some paradoxical opinion, but) a sober 
 esteem of, and a cordial affection to virtue and genuine piety 
 do begin to revive in the breasts of men ; the love and reve- 
 rence of the clergy will return. For it will be ever true, what 
 was once said, (though dictated only from the reason and expe- 
 rience of a heathen,) qui bona fide colit Deos, amat et sacer- 
 dotes ; ' he that sincerely worships God, will heartily love 
 his priests.' But not to insist longer on this reason, 
 
 II. The good of the church requires that the priesthood 
 be well protected, well provided for, and well regarded. That 
 men be converted from iniquity, induced to the sincere practice 
 of virtue, is the chief good ol the church, that to which the 
 favor of God is annexed, and on which the salvation of souls 
 doth rely. And this good mainly depends, partly on the due 
 execution of the priestly office, partly on the fit disposition of 
 the people to comply therewith : and to both those effects the 
 comfortable estate of the priesthood is conducible and requi- 
 site. The priest must be capable to instruct with advantage, 
 and the people disposed to learn with readiness: he must lead, 
 and they follow cheerfully in the paths of righteousness. Which 
 alacrity how can he be master of, whose mind care and grief, 
 the inseparable companions of a needy estate, do continually 
 distract and discompose ? whose spirit is dejected with constant 
 regret and frequent disappointments ? Can he be free and ex- 
 pedite in the discharge of his duty, who is perplexed with the 
 difficulties, and incumbered with the varieties of secular busi- 
 ness, such as the exigences of a narrow condition do neces- 
 sarily induce ? No : few there be, that, with Epictetus, can 
 philosophate in slavery ; or, like Cleanthes, can draw water 
 all the day, and study most of the night. 
 
 The priests are bouud, (for the propagation of truth and 
 right, and for the reclaiming of men from error and sin, that is, 
 for the most important good of the church,) as the Apostles 
 are often related to have done, irapf^r^rjiaiiaBai, ' to speak all 
 out,' (or to use an unconfiued liberty of speecii ;) to exhort to 
 
 * Statius, Epist. Dcdic. in v. lib. Sylvarum.
 
 310 BARROW, — SERMON XII. 
 
 the practice of virtue, as our Saviour did, /ier' e^ovaias, * with 
 licence and authority ;' to deter from vice, as St. Paul enjoins 
 Titus, [.leTci irauris eTrtrayjJs, ' with an all-commanding and im- 
 perious strain ;' and, (as those faithful brethren did, encou- 
 raged by St. Paul's example,) toX^i^i' afoftojs XaXe'iv rhv Xoyov, 
 ' to dare undauntedly to utter the word' of truth : they are ob- 
 liged to deal impartially with all, to flatter no man ; to admo- 
 nish, yea, and (with prudence, seasonably) to reprove the 
 greatest of men : not to respect the persons of the rich, nor to 
 dread the faces of the most terrible among men. And how 
 shall this necessary courage be engendered, be cherished, be 
 preserved, in the breast of him who grovels on the ground, and 
 crouches under the depressing loads of want and disgrace ?* 
 What engines are able to raise the spirits of men above the ordi- 
 nary fountains from which they spring, their fortunes ? what 
 props can sustain them at that due pitch, destitute of solid 
 strength, wealth, and respect? With what face shall a pitiful 
 underling encounter the solemn looks of an oppressing grandee ? 
 with what hope of success, in his forlorn habit, shall he adven- 
 ture to check the vicious extravagances of a ruffling gallant ? 
 Will he dare to contradict the opinion, or to disallow the prac- 
 tice of that wealthy or this powerful neighbor, by whose alms, 
 it may be, he is relieved, and supported by his favor? 
 
 But admit it possible, a man may be both extremely indigent 
 and suflSciently resolute : (that is, strong without food, and fat 
 by digesting the thin air :) with what regard then shall his 
 free and faithful advice be entertained ? Shall not his moderate 
 confidence be accounted impudence ; his open sincerity of 
 speech be styled unmannerly presumption ; his minding others 
 of their duty adjudged a forgetfulness of his own condition, or 
 a disorderly transgressing the due limits thereof: if he be not 
 ashamed of the truth, will not the truth be ashamed of him ? 
 Shall he not prejudice more by the meanness of his garb, than 
 
 * plurinia sunt quae 
 
 Non audent homines pertusa dicere lasna. — Juven. Sat. v. 
 
 AiSws Tot -Kpbs avoXPiri, Odpaos 5e irphs oX^o) Hes. i. 317. 
 
 Ilphs diravra 5ei\J)s 6 irtvrjs eVri Trpa.yiJ.ara, 
 
 Kal TTorras avTov Kara<ppov('iv v-KOhafx^dvu. — Menand.
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON. 311 
 
 further by the force of his reason, that good cause which he 
 maintains ? Will men respect his words, whose person they 
 despise ? Will they be willingly counselled or patiently re- 
 proved by him, whom they esteem, yea, whom they plainly see, 
 so much their inferior ? No : the same words which proceed 
 from the mouths of men in eminent dignity are not the same 
 when they are uttered by those of base degree.* Weak and 
 ineffectual are the most eloquent harangues of beggarly orators ; 
 obscure, like themselves, and unobserved, the most notable 
 dictates of poor mercenary pedants. The authority of the 
 speaker doth usually more incline, than the weight of the 
 matter. It was the observation of the wise son of Sirach : 
 ' When a rich man slips, he hath many helpers ; he speaketh 
 things not to be spoken, and yet men justify him : the poor 
 man miscarried, and they farther rebuked him ; he spake dis- 
 creetly, and yet could have no place. When a rich man 
 speaketh, every man holdeth his tongue ; and his words they 
 extol to the clouds : but if the poor man speak, they say. 
 Who is this? and if he stumble, they will help to overthrow 
 him.' And Solomon himself notes the same : ' The poor man's 
 wisdom is despised, and his words are not heard.' Not only 
 those that swell with pride ar.d swim in plenty, but even the 
 meanest of the people, will be apt to contemn his instructions, 
 whom they perceive in few or no circumstances of life to excel 
 them. If the preacher's condition be not, as well as his pulpit, 
 somewhat elevated above the lowest station, few will hear him, 
 fewer mind his words, very few obey him. Job's case deserves 
 well to be considered. While he flourished in wealth and 
 reputation, all men attended to his counsel, and admired his 
 discourse. ' The princes,' saith he, ' refrained talking, and laid 
 their hand on their mouth : the nobles held their peace, and 
 their tongue cleaved to the roof of their mouth. When the ear 
 heard me, then it blessed me ; and when the eye saw me, it 
 gave witness to me. Unto me men gave ear, and waited, and 
 kept silence at my counsel, After my words they spake not 
 again, and my speech dropped on them.' So officiously atten- 
 
 * Tb S' a|ift)(Ua, /c&v KaKtHs Xiyp, tJi ahv 
 ITeicref \6yos "yhp ck t' aSo^ovvrwv tiiv, 
 Kd/c rwv ZoKOWTWV ahrhs, ov ravrhv ffOtvti. — Eurip. iu Hecuba.
 
 312 BARROW. — SERMON XII. 
 
 live were all men to Job in his prosperity. But when the 
 scale was turned, and he became depressed in estate, no man 
 minded either him or his discourse, except it were to despise 
 and scorn both. ' But now,' saith he, ' they that are younger 
 than I have me in derision, whose fathers I would have dis- 
 dained to have set with the dogs of my flock. I am their 
 song, yea, I am their by-word. They abhor me, they fly far 
 from me, and spare not to spit in my face ; because he hath 
 loosed my cord, and afflicted me.'* If Job, a person who so 
 equally and moderately, yea, so humbly, and courteously, and 
 bountifully used his prosperity, as we find he did, was notwith- 
 standing in his adversity so generally slighted and abhorred ; 
 what shall their lot be who never enjoyed those advantages? 
 what regard shall their wholesome advice find ? what efficacy 
 their most pathetical exhortations obtain ? what passion their 
 faint breath raise in men's benumbed hearts? No more, cer- 
 tainly, than their mean condition shall procure among men 
 either of friendship or esteem. 
 
 We see therefore how Almighty God, that he might conci- 
 liate credit unto, and infuse a persuasive energy into the words 
 of his prophets and apostles, was pleased to dignify them with 
 extraordinary gifts of foretelling future events and doing mira- 
 culous works : their doctrine, it seems, (though of itself most 
 reasonable and plausible,) being not sufficient to convince the 
 hearers, without some remarkable excellency in the teachers, 
 challenging the people's awful regard, and exciting their atten- 
 tion. Otherwise how pitifully scant a draught those poor 
 fishers of men had caught by the common allurements only of 
 innocent life and rational discourse, I leave you to imagine. 
 And where such extraordinary commendations are wanting, is 
 it not reasonable that the need of them should be supplied by 
 ordinary and probable expedients ? 
 
 I might farther add, how a necessitous and despicable estate 
 doth commonly not only disturb the minds and deject the 
 spirits of men, but distempereth also their souls, and vitiateth 
 their manners ; rendering them not only sad and anxious, 
 
 * Prov. xiv. 20. The poor is hated even of his own neighbor : 
 but the rich hath many friends.
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON. 313 
 
 slavish and timorous, but greedy also and covetous, peevish 
 and mutinous, rude and ignorant ; engages them in sordid com- 
 pany, and tempts them to unworthy courses. From which one 
 cause how scandalous effects, and how prejudicial to the 
 church's both honor and safety, have proceeded, I need not 
 for to say, since woful experience too loudly proclaims it. 
 
 I might add, moreover, that the priests do confer to the good 
 of the state ; which is secured and advanced by the sincere 
 instruction of men in duties of obedience, justice, and fidelity; 
 and by maintenance of good conscience among men. So that, 
 if things be rightly considered, it will be hard to find a better 
 commonwealth's man than a good minister. 
 
 Seeing therefore the good of the church, on various accounts, 
 is so much concerned in the priests' encouragement, welfare, 
 and respect, it is very fitting they should have them. Which 
 consideration I conclude with that serious admonition of the 
 Apostle to the Hebrews, wherein the substance of what hath 
 been spoken on this point is contained : ' Obey your rulers, 
 (or guides,) and submit to them ; for they watch for your souls, 
 as they that are to give an account ; that they may do it with 
 joy, and not with complaint; for this is unprofitable for you.' 
 'AXvaireXes yap tovto' that is, ' for this pays no taxes, quits no 
 scores; turns to no account, is nowise advantageous for you ;' 
 but rather (for there is a /uteiujins in those words) is hurtful and 
 detrimental to you. But farther, 
 
 III. Common equity, and the reason of the case exacts, 
 that safety, competent subsistence, and fitting respect be 
 allowed to the priests. If you consider their personal quali- 
 ties, who, I pray, do [commonly] better deserve those advan- 
 tages than they? Those qualities, I say, which result from a 
 liberal, a sober, a modest education in the schools of wisdom, 
 and under the influences of good discipline. If birth (that is. 
 at best, an imaginary relation to the gallantry of an ancestor) 
 entitle men to honor; if the cheap favors of fortune be so 
 highly prized and admired ; if riches (that is, the happy 
 results of industry in trivial matters) do easily purchase respect : 
 what may not they pretend to, whose constant (and not always 
 unsuccessful) endeavor it hath been to deserve well, to cultivate 
 their minds, and regulate their manners? 
 
 BAR. VOL. I. o
 
 314 BARROW. — SERMON XII, 
 
 True worth, indeed, is not confined to any particular order 
 of men ; yet 1 should wrong none, by saying it is nowhere more 
 plentifully to be found than in this. What is it that doth ad- 
 vance men's nature, that adorns their minds, that commends 
 their persons to especial regard ? Is it knowlege ? ' The priests' 
 lips preserve it :' their discourse doth diffuse it. Is it virtue ? 
 Whence have more or greater examples thereof proceeded than 
 from them? Is it piety? It is their proper business; it hath 
 been always, in some measure, their care to promote it : that 
 ignorance and barbarity, dissoluteness and irreligion, have not 
 long since, like a deluge, overspread the face of the world, none, 
 I suppose, will be so unjust as to deny, in greatest part, due 
 to their vigilant endeavors. Even those improvements of wit 
 and eloquence, which are employed to their disgrace and dis- 
 advantage, must be acknowleged originally derived from them. 
 
 Faults they have had, and will always have ; for they are 
 men. and subject to the common imperfections of mortal nature : 
 but that, perhaps, less and fewer than any other distinct sort of 
 men ; that as it is their duty, so it hath been their practice, to 
 excel in virtue : and that they have commonly, in effect, made 
 good St. Ambrose's words, Debet praponderare vita sacerdotis, 
 sicut praponderat gratia ; were not difficult to demonstrate, if 
 seemly to make comparisons, or to insist on so invidious a sub- 
 ject. Nor, were they greater than ever really they have been, 
 or than ever malice could misrepresent them, should it be 
 therefore equal, that the miscarriages of some should derogate 
 from the reputation or prejudice the welfare of the whole order. 
 
 But to waive this plea ; consider their employment. Is there 
 any office more laborious, more vexatious than theirs ; accom- 
 panied with more wearisome toil, more solicitous care, more te- 
 dious attendance? They are deservedly called 'watchmen,' 
 being constrained to stand always on the guard, to be always 
 wakeful, attentive, and ready to warn the people of approaching 
 dangers : and ' shepherds ' likewise, being forced to indure the 
 various hardships of that uneasy life, the inconveniences of all 
 weathers, the nipping frosts and sweltry heats, and all diversi- 
 ties of irksome travail ; they must feed, they must guide, they 
 must defend ; they must seek the lost, and reduce the straying 
 sheep. What assiduity of study, what earnest contention of
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON. 315 
 
 soul are they obliged to use, in the continual instruction, ex- 
 hortation, and reprehension of the people ; in rectifying their 
 judgments, satisfying their scruples, removing their prejudices, 
 bearing their infirmities, and sympathising with their afflictions? 
 It is they that are engaged, with all their might, to withstand 
 the prevailing encroachments of iniquity, to stop the progress 
 of pernicious errors, to detect the false pretences of impostors, to 
 confute the fallacies of sophisters, to repel the assaults of all 
 adversaries to the truth ; yea, if need be, to expose not only 
 their dearest contents of life, but even their lives themselves, in 
 the defence thereof. 
 
 Eusebius reports thus of Maximinus : Tovs tUv eKicXtjcTiutv ap- 
 j^ovras fiovovs, ots alriovs rijs Kara to evayyeXiov btbacTKaXias, arai- 
 pe'iffdai TrpoTTUTTei. ' He commanded that only the governors 
 of the church (that is, the bishops) should be slaughtered, as 
 the authors of the growth and prevalence of evangelical doc- 
 trine.' Neither was it a singular practice of that bloody ty- 
 rant ; but, as a thing of course, it constantly follows that, where- 
 ever righteousness and truth are violently impugned, the priests 
 are sure to taste deepest of that bitter cup ; that their goods 
 be, in the first place, sequestered and spoiled, their reputation 
 stained, their persons misused, their lives sacrificed to the per- 
 secutor's outrageous malice. 
 
 Is it not reasonable then, and equal, that they who, for the 
 service of God and benefit of the church, undergo such diffi- 
 culties, and are objected to so great hazards, should be sus- 
 tained, should be refreshed by proportionable encouragements ? 
 Is it not barbarous usage to expect so hard duties from them, to 
 impose such heavy burdens on them, and yet to grudge any 
 suitable comforts, any satisfactory rewards to them ? Good 
 king Hezekiah surely was not so minded, of whom it is said, 
 ' He commanded the people that dwelt in Jerusalem to give 
 the portion of the priests and Levites, that they might be en- 
 couraged in the law of the Lord :' that is, they might be hear- 
 tened to study, to teach, to perform the duties required of them 
 by the divine law. And St. Paul thus rationally expostulates 
 in the priests' behalf : ' who ever goeth to war at his own 
 charges ? who planteth a vineyard, and eateth not of the fruit
 
 316 BARROW. — SERMON XII. 
 
 thereof? or who feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the milk of 
 the flock ? If we have sown unto you spiritual things, is it a 
 great thing if we shall reap your carnal things V ' Is it a great 
 thing ?' do you think much of it ? If you do, you are unrea- 
 sonable, you are unjust, you are ingrateful. And otherwhere 
 he thus very emphatically admonishes :' we beseech you, bre- 
 thren, to mind them which labor among you, and preside over you 
 in the Lord, and that admonish you ; and to esteem them more 
 than exceedingly {vTrepeKTrepiaaov) in love, for their work (or, 
 for their office) sake :' (so epyov frequently signifies in such 
 cases.) And again ; ' Let the elders (or priests, ol 7rpeir0v-epoi,) 
 which rule well, be counted worthy of double honor,' (or of 
 double recompense : so rt^?) also imports.) Priests, as so, for 
 their office sake, have honor and reward due to them ; which, 
 according to the good management of that office, are propor- 
 tionably to be augmented and multiplied. 
 
 But farther yet, abstracting from both their personal worth 
 and the merit of their service, consider their condition in this 
 world, and see whether it doth not in equity challenge some 
 reasonable provision to be made for them. Are they not, by 
 the nature of their profession, secluded from all ordinary means 
 of temporal advancement ? Be not those usual inlets of wealth, 
 the court, the camp, and the exchange, shut on them, yea, 
 barred against them, by those insuperable obstacles of law and 
 custom ? Can they grow rich by trade, or famous by feats of 
 arms ? May they plead for others ? It is well if they be al- 
 lowed to do it for themselves before equal judges. Yet are 
 they not men, endued with human passions and resentments ? 
 Are they not citizens, partaking in the common interests of the 
 weal public? Are they not sensible of the inconveniences, and 
 capable of enjoying the benefits of this life ? xVre they not 
 equally obliged, and would they not be glad as well as others 
 to be in a capacity to requite courtesies, to help relations, to 
 gratify friends, to relieve the poor, to express respectively their 
 humanity and their gratitude ? Skill they not to use the goods 
 of fortune (or rather the gifts of Providence) with as much dis- 
 cretion, as much sobriety, as much honor as others ? Compare 
 things righteously, and let reason judge ; let experience be exa-
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON. 317 
 
 mined ; let those eternal monuments of their piety, their cha- 
 rity, their hospitality, declare and testify. Shall, lastly, the 
 fruits of painful study, the improvement of hopeful parts, the 
 flower of vigorous age and strength spent in the public service, 
 tend only hither, to put a man into a state of struggling with 
 extreme contempt and penury ? If this be not, what, I pray 
 you, is monstrous iniquity ? 
 
 Since therefore it appears (on so many several scores) reason- 
 able that Almighty God should undertake the protection, and 
 assert the honor of his priests, we may not only praise the good- 
 ness, but approve also the wisdom of this promise, and by the 
 contemplation thereof strengthen our faith in reliance thereon. 
 To which purpose one consideration more may very much con- 
 duce, and withal may provoke our gratitude to celebrate his 
 truth and faithfulness in making good, as well as his goodness 
 and wisdom in making, this promise ; viz. the considering how 
 continually hitherto God haih been pleased effectually to ' clothe 
 his priests with salvation,' to provide abundantly for their safety, 
 their accommodation, their respect in this world, and to deliver 
 them from the opposite inconveniences. 
 
 If we reflect our thoughts on the first ages of Christianity, 
 (not more dismal for suffering than glorious for piety,) it is ad- 
 mirable to see how sincerely and passionately the Christian 
 people did then love their priests and pastors ; how liberally, 
 out of their slender stock and the shipwrecks of their spoiled 
 fortunes, they contributed to their maintenance ; what exceed- 
 ing veneration they bore them ; with what incredible alacrity 
 they submitted to the most severe disciplines enjoined by them; 
 how willingly they followed them, though leading into the jaws 
 of death and cruel torture : so that, although it was then ne- 
 cessary for the Christian priests to undergo the greatest hard- 
 ships, according to the design of Christian religion, (which was 
 to be propagated, not by terror of power, nor by politic arti- 
 fice, but by the invincible faith, resolution, and patience, ol 
 the professors and teachers thereof;) yet never more may they 
 have seemed to thrive and prosper, than in that juncture of 
 time, when they enjoyed the universal good-will and applause 
 of good people, when they unconstrainedly embraced affliction
 
 318 BARROW. — SERMON XII. 
 
 for righteousness sake, and acquired thereby the certain frui- 
 tion of a more excellent salvation. 
 
 But in the succeeding times, when Christianity, breaking out 
 of the clouds of persecution, began to shine over all with 
 brightest lustre ; of the glorious and happy fruits of that illus- 
 trious triumph none did partake more fully than they who had 
 sustained the hardest brunts of the foregoing conflict, and had 
 been the principal causes of the success. Then the joyful 
 acclamations of the faithful people resounded in the praise of 
 their victorious champions : then did the emperors themselves, 
 with arms outstretched and hearts enlarged, with affection 
 embrace the authors of their happy conversion : then all laws 
 prejudicial to their welfare were rescinded, and new ones were 
 substituted, abundantly providing for their security, honest live- 
 lihood, and due reverence ; which in progress of time, not in 
 the Roman empire only, but in all other nations, (that after- 
 wards did entertain Christianity,) were nowise impaired, but 
 were rather ampliated and fortified by the pious favor of prin- 
 ces : the barbarous Goths, and Vandals, and Lombards, being 
 no sooner endued with any degree of civility, or any sense of 
 religion, than possessed with a hearty reverence of their bishops 
 and priests. 
 
 And ever since, (which is not to be imputed, as some rashly, 
 if not impiously aver, to the prevalence of antichristian ini- 
 quity, but rather to the providence of divine benignity ; ever 
 since, I say,) till the late commotions and alterations in Chris- 
 tendom, they have been the guardians of others' safety, not 
 themselves deprived of protection ; have abounded with wealth, 
 rather than wanted sustenance ; have been the objects of envy, 
 more than of contempt. Princes have loved and cherished 
 them, have relied on their advice, and intrusted them with 
 their highest concernments. Nobles have not been ashamed to 
 yield them place. The sacerdotal robe hath been often dyed 
 with purple ; and the sons of mighty monarchs have not thought 
 themselves degraded by entering into their order. And if in 
 some particular places (before or since those changes) their 
 condition hath not been so high and plentiful, yet hath it been 
 (almost ever) tolerable ; the countenance of authority and the
 
 A CONSECRATION SERMON. 319 
 
 rtspect of the people being in good degree vouchsafed them. 
 Even in those churches, which till this day groan under the 
 oppression of infidel princes, the priests (by the free permission 
 of those princes) retain their jurisdiction in a manner as great 
 as ever ; and withal enjoy a maintenance not altogether incon- 
 siderable. 
 
 So favorable hitherto hath God been unto his priests, so 
 faithful to his promise : which doth oblige us to thank him ; 
 which may encourage us to hope in him ; which may arm us 
 with confidence against the present ill-will of those that wish, 
 and against the practices of those that design our ruin. 
 
 It is true, this promise is not aflSxed to all parts of time, to 
 all particularities of place, to all determinate circumstances of 
 things. The priests may, now and then, here and there, in this 
 or that, suffer highly ; they may be ejected, be plundered, be 
 degraded, as experience hath showed us. But they may be 
 also soon restored, repossessed, readvanced, and (I had almost 
 said) revenged too, as the like experience doth assure us. It 
 is not impossible, I confess, we may relapse into the same, or 
 into a more calamitous estate ; the obstinate disaffections of 
 men threaten it, and our own miscarriages more dangerously : 
 yet the most offensive of these (which many honest men dislike, 
 and most men exclaim against) have been in as bitter terms 
 complained of in almost the first ages, fnhiant possess ionibus, 
 prcedia excolunt, auro incubant, qucestui per omnia student, 
 said a devout writer* of ecclesiastical history about 1300 years 
 ago. And so much no man (without extreme uncharitableness 
 and falsehood) can in so general terms impute to the present 
 clergy : notwithstanding which, God did continue to vouch- 
 safe his protection to them. They were sometimes, (by the in- 
 undations of barbarous people,) and we may again, (by national 
 concussions,) be severely chastised for our faults : yet were 
 not they, nor shall we be (at least every where and for ever) 
 utterly rejected. God may ' visit our transgressions with the 
 rod, and our iniquity with stripes : nevertheless his loving- 
 kindness will he not utterly take from us, nor suffer his faith- 
 fulness to fail. His covenant he will not break, nor alter the 
 
 • Sulp. Sev. lib. i. c. 43.
 
 320 BARROW. — SERMON XII. 
 
 thing that is gone out of his lips.' God may for a time hide 
 his face from us ; but he will not for ever turn his back on us : 
 the honor of the priesthood may for a while be overclouded in 
 some part of the world ; but shall never totally be eclipsed, 
 nor swallowed up in a perpetual night. While God continues 
 his residence in Sion, and defends his church against ' the 
 gates of Heir and ' powers of darkness;' while religion retains 
 any sway in the hearts of men, and truth possesses any room 
 on earth ; the priests shall not be left destitute and naked, but 
 everlastingly ' be clothed with salvation.' Which that it may 
 (to the glory of God and good of his church) more surely come 
 to pass, let us convert this promise into a prayer, and say with 
 Solomon, * Now therefore arise, O Lord God, thou and the 
 ark of thy strength : let thy priests, O Lord God, be clothed 
 Avith salvation, and let thy saints rejoice in goodness.' Amen.
 
 SERMON XIII. 32 i 
 
 SUMMARY OF SERMON XIII. 
 
 JAMES, CHAP. III. — VERSE 2. 
 
 The words of the text declare that man to be perfect who 
 offends not in speech ; and they consequently imply that we 
 should avoid offending therein. The assertion is to be first 
 briefly explained ; then its truth declared ; and afterwards the 
 duty or obligation of it pressed. To offend originally signi- 
 fies to impinge, or to stumble dangerously on somewhat lying 
 across our way : by not offending in word then, we may un- 
 derstand such a restraint and careful guidance of our tongue, 
 that it does not transgress the rules of divine law, nor thwart 
 the proper purposes for which it was framed. 
 
 By a perfect man is meant a person accomplished and com- 
 plete in goodness, who, as to the continual tenor of his life, is 
 free from all notorious defects and heinous faults ; walking in 
 all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless : 
 such were Noah, i\brahara, and Job, So that in effect the 
 words import this ; that a constant government of our speech 
 according to duty and reason, is a special argument of a sincere 
 and solid goodness. The truth of which aphorism may from 
 several considerations appear. 
 
 1. A good government of the speech is a strong evidence 
 of a good mind, pure from vicious desires, disorderly passions, 
 and dishonest intentions. For speech is a child of thought, 
 which the mind always travails and teems with, and which, 
 after its birth, is wont in features to resemble its parent : con- 
 firmation of this truth from Scripture, &c. 
 
 2. From hence, that the use of speech is itself a great in-
 
 322 SUMMARY OF 
 
 gredient in our practice, and hath a very general influence on 
 whatever we do, it may be inferred that whoever governeth it 
 well, cannot also but well order his life : observations on the 
 province of speech, so large as it is, and so universally con- 
 cerned, either immediately as the matter, or by consequence as 
 the source of our actions. 
 
 3. To govern the tongue well is a matter of exceeding 
 difficulty, requiring not only hearty goodness, but great judg- 
 ment and art, together with much vigilance and circumspec- 
 tion ; whence the doing it argues a high pitch of virtue : espe- 
 cially if we consider that, 
 
 4. Irregular speech hath commonly more advantages for 
 it, and fewer checks on it, than other bad practices have : that 
 is, a man is apt to speak ill with less dissatisfaction and regret 
 from within ; he may do it with less control and hazard from 
 without, than he can act ill : this enlarged on. 
 
 5. Whereas most of the enormities, mischiefs, and troubles, 
 whereby the souls of men are defiled and their lives disquieted, 
 are the fruits of ill-governed speech, he that by well governing 
 it, preserves himself from guilt and inconvenience, must neces- 
 sarily be, not only a wise and happy, but a good and worthy 
 person. 
 
 6. His tongue also so ruled, cannot but produce very good 
 fruits of honor to God, of benefit to his neighbor, and of com- 
 fort to himself : this declared in many passages of the Pro- 
 verbs. 
 
 7. The observation how unusual this practice is, in any 
 good degree, may strongly assure us of its excellency : for the 
 rarer, especially in morals, any good thing is, the more noble 
 and worthy it is ; that rarity arguing somewhat of peculiar 
 difficulty in the attainment of it : the topic enlarged on. This 
 being said for confirmation of the point asserted, it is requisite 
 that we should understand and consider the nature of those 
 several oftences to which speech is liable, together with the
 
 SERMON XIII. 323 
 
 special depravity and inconvenience of each : tliese are various 
 in kind, according to the difference of the objects to which they 
 refer. Whence, 1. some are committed against God, and con- 
 front piety ; 2. others against our neighbor, and violate justice, 
 charity, &c. ; 3. others against ourselves, infringing sobriety, 
 discretion, or modesty ; 4. some are of a more general nature, 
 crossing all the heads of duty. As time vyould not permit a 
 description of all these kinds, the present discourse is confined 
 to some of the first sort, that is, oifences against piety, with 
 some reasons why we should eschew them. 
 
 I. Speaking blasphemously against God, or reproachfully 
 concerning religion, with intent to subvert men's faith in God, 
 or to impair their reverence of him. This of all impieties is 
 most prodigiously gigantic ; enmity towards God, and war 
 waged against heaven. Of all weapons formtd against God, 
 the tongue doth most notoriously impugn him ; for we cannot 
 reach heaven with our hands, or immediately assault God by 
 our acts : other ill practice obliquely, or by consequence, dis- 
 honoreth him, and defameth goodness ; but profane discourse 
 is directly levelled at them, and doth immediately touch them, 
 as its formal objects. The extreme folly and wickedness of 
 this practice enlarged on, with the great injury it does to 
 society. 
 
 II. Another like offence against piety is, to speak loosely 
 and wantonly about holy things, or to make such the matter 
 of sport and mockery: but this topic will be discussed in a 
 subsequent discourse. 
 
 III. Another grand offence is, rash and vain swearing in 
 common discourse, an offence which is by far too prevalent in 
 the world, passing about in a specious garb, as a mark of fine 
 breeding and of graceful quality. To repress this vile practice 
 some considerations are offered. 
 
 1. Swearing is most expressly and strictly prohibited to us: 
 Mat. v. 34. Jam. v. 12. What more palpable affront there-
 
 324 SUMMARY Of 
 
 fore can be offered to our religion, and to all that is sacred 
 among us ? 
 
 2. According to the very nature and reason of things, it is 
 evidently intolerable profaneness thus unadvisedly to make 
 addresses and appeals to God : should we thus presume to 
 encroach on the majesty and assail the ears of a human 
 prince ? 
 
 3. Swearing is by our holy oracles worthily represented to 
 ns as an especial piece of worship and devotion towards God : 
 wherefore it is a horrible mockery and profanation of so sacred 
 an ordinance, when we use it without any consideration or 
 respect on every light occasion. 
 
 4. The doing so is also very prejudicial to human society ; 
 since the decision of right, the security of government, and the 
 preservation of peace, depend so much on an awful regard to 
 oaths, and therefore on their being only used in due manner 
 and season. 
 
 5. This way of swearing is also a very uncivil and unman- 
 nerly practice ; a gross rudeness towards the main body of 
 men, who justly reverence the name of God, and loathe such 
 abuse of it. 
 
 6. This practice also derogates from the credit of him that 
 uses it, rendering the truth of whatever he says in reason and 
 justice suspected. 
 
 7. It can be no wrong to distrust him, since he implies him- 
 self not to be, even in his own opinion, a credible person ; 
 since he judges not his own bare affirmation to deserve belief. 
 
 8. To excuse this, the swearer must be forced to confess 
 another ugly fault in speaking ; that is, impertinence, or the 
 using of waste and insignificant words : this enlarged on. 
 
 9. This offence is particularly inexcusable, in that it scarcely 
 has any temptation to it, or brings with it any advantage. It 
 gratifies no sense, yields no profit, procures no honor. 
 
 Finally, as to this whole point, about not offending in our
 
 SERMON XIII. 825 
 
 speech against piety, we should consider that, as we ourselves, 
 with ail our members and powers, were chiefly designed and 
 framed to serve and glorify our Maker, so especially our tongue 
 was given us, to declare our admiration and reverence of him, 
 to express our love and gratitude to him, to celebrate his praise, 
 and promote his honor : hence it becomes in effect what the 
 psalmist so often terms it, our glory, and the best member we 
 have. Therefore, to apply it to any impious discourse, and 
 the dishonor of God, is a most unnatural abuse of it, and vile 
 ingratitude.
 
 326 BARROW. — SERMON XIII. 
 
 SERMON XIII. 
 
 NOT TO OFFEND IN WORD AN EVIDENCE OF 
 A HIGH PITCH OF VIRTUE. 
 
 JAMES, CHAP. III. — VERSE 2. 
 If any man ofiend not in word, he is a perfect man. 
 
 This sentence stands in the head of a discourse concerning 
 the tongue, (that doubtful engine of good and evil,) wherein 
 how excellent benefits, and how grievous mischiefs, it, as 
 rightly or perversely wielded, is apt to produce, how it is both 
 a sweet instrument of all goodness, and a sharp weapon of all 
 iniquity, is positively laid down, and by fit comparisons illus- 
 trated. But secluding all relation to the context, the words 
 may well be considered singly by themselves ; and as such they 
 instruct us, asserting a certain truth ; they direct us, implying 
 a good duty. They assert that man to be perfect, who offends 
 not in speech ; and they consequently imply that we should 
 strive to avoid offending therein ; for to * be perfect,' and to 
 ' go on to perfection,' are precepts, the observance whereof is 
 incumbent on us. We shall first briefly explain the assertion, 
 and then declare its truth ; afterwards we shall press somewhat 
 couched in the duty. 
 
 To offend originally signifies to impinge, that is, to stumble, 
 or hit dangerously on somewhat lying cross our way, so as 
 thereby to be cast down, or at least to be disordered in our 
 posture, andstopt in our progress : whence it is well transferred 
 to denote our being through any incident temptation brought 
 into sin, whereby a man is thrown down, or bowed from his
 
 OF NOT OFFENDING IN WORD. 327 
 
 upright state, and interrupted from prosecuting a steady course 
 of piety and virtue. By an usual and apposite manner of 
 speaking, our tenor of life is called ' a way,' our conversation 
 * walking,' our actions ' steps,' our observing good laws ' up- 
 rightness,' our transgression of them ' tripping, faultering, 
 falling.' 
 
 By ' not offending in word,' we may easily then conceive to 
 be understood such a constant restraint, and such a careful 
 guidance of our tongue, that it doth not transgress the rules 
 prescribed unto it by divine law, or by good reason ; that it 
 thwarteth not the natural ends and proper uses for which it 
 was framed, to which it is fitted ; such as chiefly are promoting 
 God's glory, our neighbor's benefit, and our own true welfare. 
 
 By ' a perfect man' is meant a person accomplished and 
 complete in goodness, one of singular worth and integrity, a 
 brave and excellent man, who, as to the continual tenor of his 
 life, is free from all notorious defects, and heinous faults ; like 
 David, ' fulfilling all God's will,' and ' having respect to all 
 God's commandments :' like Zachary and Elizabeth, ' walking 
 in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blame- 
 less.' Thus was Noah, thus was Abraham, thus was Job 
 perfect. This is the notion of perfection in holy Scripture : 
 not an absolute exemption from all blemish of soul, or blame in 
 life ; for such a perfection is inconsistent with the nature and 
 state of man here, where none with modesty or with truth can 
 say, ' I have made my heart clean, I am pure from my sin ;' 
 where every man must confess with Job, ' If I justify myself, 
 mine own mouth shall condemn me ; if I say I am perfect, it 
 shall prove me perverse.' For ' there is not,' as the preacher 
 assures, 'a just man on earth, that doeth good, and sinneth 
 not;' and * in many things we off'end all,' is our Apostle's 
 assertion, immediately preceding my text ; which words may 
 serve to expound these. ' In many things,' saith he, ' we 
 offend all ;' that is, there is no man absolutely perfect ; but ' if 
 any man offend not in word,' (that is, if a man constantly 
 govern his tongue well,) 'that man is perfect;' perfect in such a 
 kind and degree as human frailty doth admit ; he is eminently 
 good ; he may be reasonably presumed upright and blameless 
 in all the course of his practice ; ' able,' as it follows, ' to
 
 328 BARROW. — SERMON XIII. 
 
 bridle the whole body,' that is, qualified to order all his actions 
 justly and wisely. So that in effect the words import this ; 
 that a constant governance of our speech according to duty and 
 reason is a high instance and a special argument of a throughly 
 sincere and solid goodness. 
 
 The truth of which aphorism may from several considerations 
 appear. 
 
 1. A good governance of speech is a strong evidence of a 
 good mind ; of a mind pure from vicious desires, calm from 
 disorderly passions, void of dishonest intentions. For since 
 speech is a child of thought, which the mind always travaileth 
 and teemeth with, and which after its birth is wont in features 
 to resemble its parents ; since every man naturally is ambitious 
 to propagate his conceits, and without a painful force cannot 
 smother his resentments ; since especially bad affections, like 
 stum or poison, are impetuous and turgid, so agitating all the 
 spirits, and so swelling the heart, that it cannot easily compose 
 or contain them; since a distempered constitution of mind, as 
 of body, is wont to weaken the retentive faculty, and to force 
 an evacuation of bad humors ; since he that wanteth the prin- 
 cipal wisdom of well ordering his thoughts, and mastering his 
 passions, can hardly be conceived so prudent, as long to refrain, 
 or to regulate their dependence, speech ; considering these 
 things, I say, it is scarce possible that he which commonly 
 thinks ill, should constantly either be well silent, or speak 
 well. To conceal fire, to check lightning, to confine a whirl- 
 wind, may perhaps be no less feasible, than to keep within 
 due compass the exorbitant motions of a soul, wherein reason 
 hath lost its command, so that qua data porta, where the next 
 passage occurs, they should not rush forth, and vent themselves. 
 A vain mind naturally will bubble forth or fly out in frothy 
 expressions ; wrath burning in the breast will flame out, or at 
 least smoke through the mouth ; rancorous imposthumes of 
 spite and malice will at length discharge purulent matter ; lust 
 boiling within will soon foam out in lewd discourse. If the 
 fountain itself is polluted, or infected, how can the streams be 
 clear or wholesome? ' How can ye, being evil, speak good 
 things V saith our Lord; ' for from the abundance of the heart 
 the mouth speaketh.' * A good man,' addeth he, ' out of the
 
 OF NOT OFFENDING IN WORD. 329 
 
 good treasure of the heart bringeth forth good things ; and an 
 evil man out of the evil treasure bringeth forth evil things :' 
 e/cjSaWei Trovr}pa, ' he casteth forth ill things,' as a fountain doth 
 its waters by a natural and necessary ebullition. It is true, 
 that in some particular cases, or at some times, a foul heart 
 may be disguised by fair words, or covered by demure reser- 
 vedness : shame, or fear, or crafty design, may often repress the 
 declaration of ill thoughts and purposes. But such fits of 
 dissimulation cannot hold ; men cannot abide quiet under so vio- 
 lent constraints ; the intestine jars, or unkindly truces, between 
 heart and tongue (those natural friends) cannot be perpetual, or 
 very durable : no man can hold his breath long, or live without 
 evaporating through his mouth those steams of passion which 
 arise from flesh and blood. * My heart was hot within me, 
 while I was musing, the fire burned ; then spake I with my 
 tongue,' saith David, expressing the difficulty of obstructing 
 the eruption of our affections into language. Hence it is that 
 speech is commonly judged the truest character of the mind, 
 and the surest test of inward worth ; as that which discloseth 
 the ' hidden man of the heart,' which unlocketh the closets of 
 the breast, which draws the soul out of her dark recesses into 
 open light and view, which rendereth our thoughts visible, and 
 our intentions palpable. Hence loquere, ut te videam, Speak, 
 that I may see you, or know what kind of man you are, is a 
 saying which all men, at first meeting, do in their hearts direct 
 one to another : neither commonly doth any man require more 
 to ground a judgment on concerning the worth or ability of 
 another, than opportunity of hearing him to discourse for a 
 competent time : yea, often before a man hath spoken ten 
 words, his mind is caught, and a formal sentence is passed on 
 it. Such a strict affinity and connexion do all men suppose 
 between thoughts and words. 
 
 2. From hence, that the use of speech is itself a great in- 
 gredient into our practice, and hath a very general influence on 
 whatever we do, may be inferred, that whoever governeth it 
 well, cannot also but well order his whole life. The extent of 
 speech must needs be vast, since it is nearly commensurate to 
 thought itself, which it ever closely traceth, widely ranging 
 through all the immense variety of objects ; so that men almost
 
 330 BARROW. — SERMON XIII. 
 
 as often speak incogitantly, as they think silently. Speech ia 
 indeed the rudder that steereth human affairs, the spring that 
 setteth the wheels of action on going; the hands work, the feet 
 walk, all the members and all the senses act by its direction 
 and impulse ; yea, most thoughts are begotten, and most aflfec- 
 tions stirred up thereby : it is itself most of our employment, 
 and what we do beside it, is however guided and moved by it. 
 It is the profession and trade of many, it is the practice of all 
 men, to be. in a manner continually talking. The chief and 
 most considerable sort of men manage all their concernments 
 merely by words ; by them princes rule their subjects, generals 
 command their armies, senators deliberate and debate about 
 the great matters of state : by them advocates plead causes, 
 and judges decide them ; divines perform their oflSces, and 
 minister their instructions ; merchants strike up their bargains, 
 and drive on all their traffic. Whatever almost great or small 
 is done in the court or in the hall, in the church or at the ex- 
 change, in the school or in the shop, it is the tongue alone that 
 doeth it : it is the force of this little machine, that turneth all 
 the human world about. It is indeed the use of this strange 
 organ which rendereth human life, beyond the simple life of 
 other creatures, so exceedingly various and compounded ; 
 which creates such a multiplicity of business, and which trans- 
 acts it ; while by it we communicate our secret conceptions, 
 transfusing them into others ; while therewith we instruct and 
 advise one another ; while we consult about what is to be 
 done, contest about right, dispute about truth ; while the 
 whole business of conversation, of commerce, of government, 
 and administration of justice, of learning, and of religion, is 
 managed thereby; yea, while itstoppeth the gaps of time, and 
 filleth up the wide intervals of business, our recreations and 
 divertisements (the which do constitute a great portion of our 
 life) mainly consisting therein, so that, in comparison thereof, 
 the execution of what we determine and all other action do 
 take up small room : and even all that usually dependeth on 
 foregoing speech, which persuadeth, or counselleth, or com- 
 mandeth it. Whence the province of speech being so very 
 large, it being so universally concerned, either immediately 
 as the matter, or by consequence as the source of our actions,
 
 OF NOT OFFENDING IN WORD. 331 
 
 he that constantly governeth it well may justly be esteemed 
 to live very excellently. 
 
 3. To govern the tongue well is a matter of exceeding diffi- 
 culty, requiring not only hearty goodness, but great judgment 
 and art, together with much vigilance and circumspection ; 
 whence the doing it argues a high pitch of virtue. For since the 
 tongue is a very loose and versatile engine, which the least 
 breath of thought doth stir, and set on going any way, it can- 
 not but need much attention to keep it either in a steady rest, 
 or in a right motion. Since numberless swarms of things rov- 
 ing in the fancy do thence incessantly obtrude themselves on 
 the tongue, very much application of mind and great judgment 
 are requisite to select out of them those few which are good 
 and fit, rejecting all that is bad, and improper to be spoken. 
 Since continually temptations occur provoking or alluring to 
 miscarriage in this kind, (for beside internal propensions and 
 commotions of soul, everj'^ object we behold, every company 
 we are engaged in, every accident befalling us, doth suggest 
 somewhat inviting thereto ; the condition of our neighbor 
 moving us, if high, to flatter, if low, to insult; our own fortune 
 prompting, if prosperous, to boast, if cross, to murmur; any 
 action drawing from us, if it pleaseth us, fond admiration, if it 
 disliketh, harsh censure : since, I say, we are thus at every 
 turn obnoxious to speak amiss,) it must be matter of huge skill 
 and caution, of mighty industry and resolution, to decline it. 
 We for that purpose need to imitate that earnest and watchful 
 care of the holy psalmist, which he thus expresseth ; * I have,' 
 saith he, ' purposed that my mouth shall not offend :' and, ' I 
 said,' saith he again, ' I will take heed to my ways, that I sin 
 not with my tongue ; I will keep my mouth with a bridle, 
 while the wicked is before me.' And thus to maintain a con- 
 stant guard over his heart and ways, thus in consequence thereof 
 to curb and rule his speech well, must assuredly be the mark of 
 a very good person. Especially considering that, 
 
 4. Irregular speech hath commonly divers more advantages 
 for it, and fewer checks on it, than other bad practice hath. 
 A man is apt, I mean, to speak ill with less dissatisfaction 
 and regret from within ; he may do it with less control and less 
 hazard from without, than he can act ill. Bad actions are
 
 332 BARROW. — SERMON XIII. 
 
 gross and bulky, taking up much time, and having much force 
 spent on them, whence men easily observe and consider them 
 in themselves and others : but ill words are subtile and tran- 
 sient, soon born, and as soon deceased ; whence men rashly utter 
 them without much heed before them, or much reflexion after 
 them. Bad actions have also usually visible effects immedi- 
 ately consequent on them : but words operate insensibly and 
 at distance : so that men hardly discern what will follow them, 
 or what they have effected. There are also frequent occasions 
 of speaking ill on presumption of secrecy, and thence of indis- 
 turbance and impunity ; yea, doing so is often entertained with 
 complacence, and encouraged with applause : the vilest abuses 
 of speech (even blasphemy, treason, and slander themselves) 
 may be safely whispered into ears, which will receive them 
 with pleasure and commendation. Bad language also in most 
 cases is neither strictly prohibited, nor severely chastised by 
 human laws, as bad action is. Whence ordinarily the guilt of 
 this misbehavior seems little or none ; and persons much prac- 
 tising it, both in their own conceit, and in the opinion of others, 
 do often pass for innocent. Men indeed here will hardly dis- 
 cern any rule, or acknowlege any obligation : the tongue they 
 deem is free, and any words may be dispensed with : it is suffi- 
 cient if they abstain from doing gross wrong or mischief, they 
 have a right and liberty to say any thing. ' Our lips are our 
 own ; who is Lord over us V so are men commonly prone to 
 say, with those in the Psalm. Hence whosoever, notwith- 
 standing such encouragements to offend herein, and so few re- 
 straints from it, doth yet carefully forbear it, governing his 
 tongue according to rules of duty and reason, may justly be re- 
 puted a very good man. Fartherraore, 
 
 5. Whereas most of the enormities, the mischiefs, and the 
 troubles, whereby the souls of men are defiled, their minds dis- 
 composed, and their lives disquieted, are the fruits of ill-go- 
 verned speech ; it being that chiefly which perverteth justice, 
 which soweth dissensions, which raiseth all bad passions and 
 .* animosities, which embroileth the world in seditions and fac- 
 tions, by which men wrong and abuse, deceive and seduce, de- 
 fame and disgrace one another, whereby consequently innume- 
 rable vexations and disturbances are created among men ; he
 
 OF NOT OFFENDING IN WORD. 333 
 
 that by well governing his speech preserveth himself from the 
 guilt, disengageth his mind and life from the inconveniences 
 of all such evils, (from the discreet and honest management 
 thereof enjoying both innocence and peace,) must necessarily 
 be as a very wise and happy, so a very good and worthy 
 person. 
 
 6. His tongue also so ruled cannot but produce very good 
 fruits of honor to God, of benefit to his neighbor, of comfort 
 to himself: it will be sweet and pleasant, it will be wholesome 
 and useful; endearing conversation, cementing peaceful society, 
 breeding and nourishing love, instructing and edifying, or cheer- 
 ing and comforting the hearers. His ' tongue is health;' his 
 ' mouth is a well and tree of life ;' his ' lips disperse knowlege;' 
 he ' shall be satisfied with good by the fruit of his mouth ; 
 every man shall kiss his lips.' Such, as the wise man telleth 
 us, are the eff'ects of innocent, sober, and well-ordered dis- 
 course ; the which do much commend their author, and declare 
 the excellent virtue of that tree from which such fruits do 
 grow. 
 
 7. Lastly, the observation how unusual this practice is, in 
 any good degree, may strongly assure the excellency thereof. 
 For the rarer, especially in morals, any good thing is, the more 
 noble and worthy it is ; that rarity arguing somewhat of pecu- 
 liar difficulty in the attainment or the achievement thereof. 
 Nothing is more obvious to common experience, than that 
 persons, who in the rest of their demeanor and dealings appear 
 blameless, yea, who in regard to other points of duty would 
 seem nice and precise, are extremely peccant in this kind. We 
 may see divers, otherwise much restraining and much denying 
 themselves, who yet indulge themselves a strange licentious- 
 ness in speaking whatever their humor or their passion dictates. 
 Many, in other respects harmless, (who would not for any 
 thing smite or slay folks,) we may observe with their tongue to 
 commit horrible outrages on any man that comes in their way. 
 Frequently persons very punctual in their dealings are very 
 unjust in their language, cheating and robbing their neighbor 
 of his reputation by envious detraction and hard censure. 
 They who abhor shedding a man's blood will yet, without any 
 scruple or remorse, by calumnious tales and virulent reproaches.
 
 834 BARROW. — SERMON XIII. 
 
 assassinate his credit, and murder his good name, although to 
 him perhaps far more dear and precious than his life. Com- 
 monly such as are greatly staunch in other enjoyments of plea- 
 sure, are enormously intemperate in speaking, and very incon- 
 tinent of their tongue : men in all other parts of morality 
 rigorously sober, are often in this very wild and dissolute. 
 Yea, not seldom we may observe that even mighty pretenders 
 to godliness, and zealous practisers of devotion, cannot forbear 
 speaking things plainly repugnant to God's law, and very pre- 
 judicial to his honor. Thus it is observable to be now ; and 
 thus we may suppose that it always hath been. So of his time 
 St. Hieronie (or rather St. Paulinus, in his excellent Epistle to 
 Celantia) testifies : ' Such a lust' (saith he, concerning the ill 
 governance of speech) 'of this evil hath invaded the minds of 
 men, that even those, who have far receded from other vices, 
 do yet fall into this, as into the last snare of the devil.'* So it 
 appears that, among all sorts of good practice, the strict govern- 
 ance of the tongue is least ordinary, and consequently, that it 
 is most admirable and excellent. And this is all I shall say 
 for confirmation of the point asserted. 
 
 Now then, as it is our duty to aim at perfection, or to endea- 
 vor the attainment of integrity in heart and life, so we should 
 especially labor to govern our tongue, and guard it from offence. 
 To which purpose it is requisite that we should well under- 
 stand and consider the nature of those several offences to which 
 speech is liable, together with the special pravity, deformity, 
 and inconvenience of each : for did we know and weigh them, 
 we should not surely either like or dare to incur them. 
 
 The offences of speech are many and various in kind ; so 
 many as there be of thought and of action, unto which they 
 do run parallel : accordingly they well may be distinguished 
 from the difference of objects which they do specially respect. 
 Whence, 1. some of them are committed against God, and con- 
 front piety ; 2. others against our neighbor, and violate justice, 
 or charity, or peace ; 3. others against ourselves, infringing 
 
 * Tanla bujus mall libido mentes bominum invasit, uf etiani qui 
 procul ab aliis vitiis recesserunt, in istud tamcn, quasi in extreraum 
 diaboli laqueum, incidanf. — Ad .Celant.
 
 OF NOT OFFENDING IN WORD. 335 
 
 sobriety, discretion, or modesty; or, 4. some are of a more 
 general and abstracted nature, rambling through all matters, 
 and crossing all the heads of duty. It is true that in most, or 
 in all offences of speech, there is a complication of impiety, 
 iniquity, and imprudence ; for that by all sorts of ill speaking 
 we sin against God, and break his commandment; we injure 
 our neighbor, at least by contagion and bad example ; we 
 abuse ourselves, contracting guilt, and exposing ourselves to 
 punishment : also the general vices of speech (unadvisedness 
 and vanity) do constantly adhere to every bad word : yet com- 
 monly each evil speech hath a more direct and immediate as- 
 pect on some one of those objects, (God, our neighbor, or our- 
 selves,) and is peculiarly repugnant to one of those capital 
 virtues (piety, charity, and sobriety) unto which all our duty 
 is reduced. Now according to this distinction, I should, if 
 time would give leave, describe and dissuade particularly all 
 these sorts of offence: but (since I must be respectful to pa- 
 tience, and careful myself not to offend in speech) I shall 
 confine the rest of my present discourse to the first sort, the 
 offences against piety ; and even of them I shall (waiving the 
 rest) only touch two or three, insinuating some reasons why we 
 should eschew them. These are, 
 
 I. Speaking blasphemously against God, or reproachfully 
 concerning religion, or to the disgrace of piety, with intent to 
 subvert men's faith in God, or to impair their reverence of him. 
 There hath been a race of men, (and would to God that race 
 were not even till now continued) concerning whom the psalmist 
 said, ' they speak loftily, they set their mouth against the hea- 
 vens ;' who, like the proud Sennacherib, ' lift up their eyes, 
 and exalt their voice against the Holy One of Israel;' who, 
 with the profane Antiochus, * speak marvellous things against 
 the God of gods.' This of all impieties is the most prodi- 
 giously gigantic, the most signal practice of enmity towards 
 God, and downright waging of war against heaven. Of all 
 * weapons formed against God,' the tongue most notoriously 
 doth impugn him ; for we cannot reach heaven with our hands, 
 or immediately assault God by our actions : other ill practice 
 indeed obliquely, or by consequence dishonoreth God, and de- 
 fameth goodness ; but profane discourse is directly levelled at
 
 336 BARROW. — SERMON XIII. 
 
 them, and doth immediately touch them, as its formal objects. 
 Now doing thus argueth an extremity both of folly and naughti- 
 ness : for he that doeth it, either believeth the existence of 
 God, and the truth of religion; or he distrusts them. If he 
 doth believe them, what a desperate madness is it in him ad- 
 visedly to invite certain mischief to his home, and pull down 
 heaviest vengeance on his own head, by opposing the irresisti- 
 ble power, and provoking the inflexible justice of God ! What 
 an abominable villany and baseness is it thus to abuse God's 
 immense goodness and mercy, oflFering such despite to the Author 
 of his being, and free Donor of all the good he enjoys ! What 
 a monstrous conspiracy is it of stupidity and perverseness in 
 him, thus wilfully to defy his own welfare, to forfeit all capacity 
 of happiness ; to precipitate and plunge himself into a double 
 hell, that of bitter remorse here, that of endless pain hereafter ! 
 But if he that reproacheth God and religion be supposed dis- 
 trustful of their being and reality, neither so is he excusable 
 from like degrees of folly and pravity : for, beside the wild ex- 
 travagance of such disbelief, against legions of cogent arguments 
 and pregnant testimonies, against all the voice of nature and 
 faith of history, against the settled judgment of wise and sober 
 persons who have studied and considered the point, against the 
 current tradition of all ages, and general consent of mankind ; 
 all which to withstand, no less demonstrate th high indiscretion 
 than arrogance ; beside also the palpable silliness which he dis- 
 plays, ill causelessly (or for no other cause than soothing a fan- 
 tastic humor) drawing on himself the anger and hatred of all men 
 who are concerned for the interests of their religion, thrusting 
 himself into great dangers and mischiefs thence imminent to 
 him both from private zeal and public law ; beside, I say, these 
 evident follies, there is an unsufFerable insolence and horrible 
 malice apparent in this practice ; for it is no less than the height 
 of insolence thus to affront mankind in matters of highest consi- 
 deration, and deepest resentment with it ; not only thwarting 
 its common notions, but vilifying the chief objects of its highest 
 respect and affection, of its main care and concernment; so 
 makino the fiercest invasion that can be on its credit, and charg- 
 ing it with greatest fondness. Who can endure that He, whom 
 he apprehends to be his grand Parent, his best Friend and Be-
 
 OF NOT OFFENDING IN WORD. 337 
 
 nefactor, his great Patron and Sovereign, should in downright 
 terms be defamed or disparaged ? Who can patiently bear that, 
 wherein he placeth his utmost hopes and supreme felicity, to 
 be expressly slighted or scorned ? Who can take the offering 
 to do this, otherwise than for a most injurious reflexion on his 
 judgment and his practice ? If he cannot believe in God, he 
 may let them alone who do : if he will not practise religion, he 
 may forbear to persecute it. He cannot pretend any zeal ; it 
 is therefore only pride that moves him to disturb us. So may 
 every man with all the reason in the world complain against the 
 profane talker. Seeing also it is most evident that hearty re- 
 verence of God, and a conscientious regard to religion, do pro- 
 duce great benetits to mankind, being indeed the main supports 
 of common honesty and sobriety, the sole curbs, effectually re- 
 straining men from unjust fraud and violence, from brutish lusts 
 and passions ; since apparently religion prescribeth the best 
 rules, and imposeth the strongest engagements to the perform- 
 ance of those actions, whereby not only men's private welfare 
 is promoted, and ordinary conversation is sweetened, and com- 
 mon life is adorned, but also whereby public order and peace 
 are maintained; since, as Cicero with good reason judged, 
 ' piety being removed, it is probable that justice itself (of all 
 virtues the best guarded and fortified by human power) 'could 
 not subsist, no faith could be secured, no society could be pre- 
 served among men ;' it being manifestly vain to fancy that as- 
 suredly without religious conscience any one will be a good 
 subject, a true friend, or an honest man ; or that any other con- 
 sideration can induce men to prefer duty to their prince, the 
 prosperity of their country, fidelity toward their friends or 
 neighbors, before their own present interests and pleasure : since, 
 I say, the credit of religion is so very beneficial and useful to 
 mankind, it is plain that he must be exceedingly spiteful and 
 malicious who shall by profane discourse endeavor to supplant 
 or shake it. He that speaketh against God's providence hatli 
 assuredly a pique at goodness, and would not have it predomi- 
 nant in the hearts of men. He that disparages religion dotli 
 certainly take his aim against virtue, and would not have it 
 practised in the world : his meaning plainly is, to effect, if he 
 can, that men should live like beasts in foul impurities, or like 
 BAR. VOL. I. P
 
 338 BARROW. — SERMON XIII. 
 
 fiends in mischievous iniquities. Such an one therefore is not 
 to be taken as a simple embracer of error, but as a spiteful de- 
 signer against common good. For indeed, were any man as- 
 sured (as none can on so much as probable grounds think it) 
 that religion had been only devised by men as a supplemental 
 aid to reason and force, (drawing them, whom the one could 
 not persuade, nor the other compel, to the practice of things 
 conducible to the public weal ;) that it were merely an imple- 
 ment of policy, or a knack to make fjeople loyal to their prince, 
 upright in their dealings, sober in their conversations, moderate 
 in their passions, virtuous in all their doings ; it were yet a 
 most barbarous naughtiness and inhumanity in him to assay the 
 overthrow thereof, with the defeating so excellent purposes : 
 he that should attempt it, justly would deserve to be reputed an 
 enemy to the welfare of mankind, to be treated as a pestilent 
 disturber of the world. 
 
 II. Another like offence against piety is, to speak loosely 
 and wantonly about holy things, (things nearly related to God 
 or to religion,) to make such things the matter of sport and 
 mockery, to play and trifle with them. But of this I shall have 
 occasion to speak in another discourse. 
 
 III. Another grand offence against piety is, rash and vain 
 swearing in common discourse; an offence which now strangely 
 reins and rages in the world, passing about in a specious garb 
 and under glorious titles, as a gentle and graceful quality, a 
 mark of fine breeding, and a point of high gallantry. Who, 
 forsooth, now is the brave spark and complete gentleman, but 
 he that hath the skill and confidence (O heavens ! how mean 
 a skill! how mad a confidence!) to lard every sentence with 
 an oath or a curse ; making bold at every turn to salute God, 
 fetching him down from heaven to avouch any idle prattle, to 
 second any giddy passion, to concern himself in any trivial 
 affair of his ; yea, calling and challenging the Almighty to 
 damn and destroy him ! But somewhat to repress these fond 
 conceits and vile practices, let us, I pray, consider, 
 
 1. That swearing thus is most expressly and strictly prohi- 
 bited to us. 'I say unto you, swear not at all; but let your 
 conversation be yea, yea ; nay, nay ; for whatsoever is more 
 than these cometh of evil;' so our Lord forbids it. * But
 
 OF NOT OFFENDING IN WORD. 339 
 
 above all things, my brethren, swear not, lest you enter into 
 condemnation :' so doth St. James warn against it. And is it 
 not then prodigious that in Christendom any man should aftect 
 to break laws so plain and so severe ; that it should pass here 
 not only for a tolerable, but even for a commendable practice, 
 to violate so manifest and so important a duty ; that so directly 
 to thwart our Lord himself should be a thing not in use only, 
 but in credit and request among Christians ? What more pal- 
 pable aftront could be offered to our religion, and to all that is 
 sacred among us ? For what respect or force can we imagine 
 reserved to religion, while a practice so indisputably opposite 
 thereto, in a high degree, is so current and prevalent ? 
 
 2. Again, according to the very nature and reason of things, 
 it is evidently an intolerable profaneness, thus unadvisedly to 
 make addresses and appeals to God, invoking his testimony, 
 and demanding his judgment about trifles; far more such, then 
 it were a high presumption and encroachment on the majesty of 
 a prince, on every petty occasion to break into his presence, 
 and to assail his ears, dragging him to hear and determine con- 
 cerning it. Whence the very light of nature condemns this 
 practice, and even heathens have loudly declared against it, as 
 derogatory to the reverence of the duty, and unsuitable to the 
 gravity of a worthy man. 
 
 3. Swearing indeed is by our holy oracles worthily repre- 
 sented to us as an especial piece of worship and devotion 
 toward God ; wherein, duly performed, we piously acknow- 
 lege his chief attributes and singular prerogatives : (his being 
 every where present, and conscious of all we say or do ; his 
 goodness and fidelity, in favoring truth and protecting right ; 
 his justice in rewarding veracity and equity, in avenging false- 
 hood and iniquity; his being the supreme Lord of all persons, 
 and last Judge in all causes ; to signify and avow these things 
 to God's glory, swearing was instituted, and naturally servcth :) 
 wherefore, as all other acts of devotion, so this grand one 
 especially should never be performed without all serious con- 
 sideration and humble reverence ; the cause should be certainly 
 just and true, the matter worthy and weighty, the manner grave 
 and solemn, the mind framed to earnest attention, and fur- 
 nished with devout affections. Those conditions are always
 
 340 BARROW. — SERMON XIII. 
 
 carefully to be observed, which the prophet intimates when he 
 charges thus : ' Thou shalt swear, The lord liveth, in truth, in 
 judgment, and in righteousness.' It is therefore horrible 
 mockery and profanation of a most sacred ordinance, when 
 men presume to use it without any care or consideration, 
 without any respect or awe, on any slight or vain occasion. 
 
 4. The doing so is also very prejudicial to human society ; 
 for the decision of right, the security of government, and the 
 preservation of peace, do much depend on an awful regard to 
 oaths ; and therefore on their being only used in due manner 
 and season : the same do greatly suffer by the contempt or 
 disregard of them, and consequently by their common and 
 careless use. They are the surest bonds by which the con- 
 sciences of men are tied to the attestation of truth and obser- 
 vance of faith ; the which as by rare and reverent use they are 
 kept firm and fast, so by frequent and negligent application of 
 them (by their prostitution to every light and toyish matter) 
 they are quite dissolved, or much slackened. Whence the 
 public seems much concerned that this enormity should be 
 retrenched. For if oaths generally become cheap and vile, 
 what will that of allegiance signify ? If men are wont to dally 
 with swearing every where, can they be expected to be strict 
 and serious therein at the bar, or in the church ? Will they 
 regard the testimony of God, or dread his judgment, in one 
 place, or at one time, when as every where continually (on any, 
 on no occasion) they dare to affront and contemn them ? 
 
 5. This way of swearing is also a very uncivil and unman- 
 nerly practice. It is not only a gross rudeness toward the 
 main body of men, who justly reverence the name of God, 
 and loathe such abuses thereof; not only an insolent defiance 
 to the common profession and law of our country, which dis- 
 allows and condemns it ; but it is very odious and offensive to 
 any particular society, if at least there be one sober person 
 therein : for to any such person (who retains a sense of good- 
 ness, or is anywise concerned for God "s honor) no language or 
 behavior can be more disgustful ; nothing can more grate the 
 fars or fret the heart of such an one, than this kind of talk : 
 to give him the lie were a cofnpliment, to spit in his face were 
 an obligation, in comparison thereto. Wherefore it is a won-
 
 OF NOT OFFENDING IN WORD. 341 
 
 der, that any person, having in him a spark of ingenuity, or at 
 all pretending to good manners, should find in his heart or 
 deign to use it. 
 
 6. This practice also much derogateth from the credit of him 
 that useth it, rendering the truth of whatever he says in reason 
 and justice suspected. For he that is so void of conscience as 
 to swear vainly, what can engage him to speak truly ? He that 
 is so loose in one such point of obedience to God and reason, 
 why should we conceive him in regard to another ? 
 
 7. It can be surely no wrong to distrust him, since he im- 
 plies himself not to be, even in his own opinion, a credible 
 person ; since he judges not his own bare affirmation to deserve 
 belief. For why, if he takes his word to be competently good, 
 doth he back it with such asseverations ? why unprovoked 
 calls he God to witness, if he thinks his own honesty sufficient 
 to assure the truth of what he says ? An honest man, methinks, 
 should scorn thus to invalidate his own credit, or to detract 
 from the authority of his word, which should stand firm on 
 itself, and not want an oath to support it. 
 
 8. To excuse this, the swearer must be forced to confess 
 another ugly fault in speaking, that is, impertinence, or using 
 of waste and insignificant words ; to be charged wherewith he 
 is indeed however unavoidably liable. For oaths, as they pass 
 commonly, are mere excrescences of speech, which do nothing 
 else but incumber and deform it : they embellish discourse, 
 just as a wen or a scab does beautify a face; as a spot or ii 
 patch do adorn a garment. For to what purpose, I pray, is 
 God's name haled into our idle talk ? Why should we so often 
 mention him, when we never mean any thing about him ? Into 
 every sentence to foist a dog or a horse, would altogether be 
 as proper and pertinent. These superfluous words signify no- 
 thing, but that the speaker little skilleth the use of speech, or 
 the rule of conversation, but meaneth to prate any thing with- 
 out wit or judgment; that his fancy is very beggarly, and 
 craves the aid of any impertinency to relieve it. One would 
 think that a man of sense should grutch to lend his ears, or in- 
 cline his attention to such putid stuft"; that without nauseating 
 he should not endure to see men lavish time, and squander 
 breath so frivolously.
 
 342 BARROW. — SERMON XIIl. 
 
 9. In fine, this offence is particularly most inexcusable, in 
 that it scarce hath any temptation to it, or bringeth with it any 
 advantage ; so that it is unaccountable what (beside mere va- 
 nity or perverseness) should dispose men thereto. It gratifieth 
 no sense, it yieldeth no profit, it procureth no honor : for the 
 sound of it is not very melodious, nor surely was any man ever 
 preferred for.it, or got an estate thereby; it rather to any good 
 ear raaketh a horrid and jarring noise, it rather produceth dis- 
 pleasure, damage, and disgrace. Wherefore of all dealers in 
 sin, the swearer is apparently the silliest, and maketh the worst 
 bargains for himself; for he sinneth gratis, and, like those in 
 the prophet, ' selleth his soul for nothing.' An epicure hath 
 some reason, and an extortioner is a man of wisdom, if com- 
 pared to him ; for they enjoy some pleasure, or acquire some 
 gain here, in lieu of their salvation hereafter. But he offends 
 heaven, and abandons happiness, he knows not why, nor for 
 what; a fond humor possesses him, he inconsiderately follows 
 a herd of fops, he affects to play the ape ; that is all he can say 
 for himself. Let me be pardoned, if just indignation against a 
 wickedness so contemptible, so heinous, and so senseless, and 
 withal so notorious, and so rife among us, doth extort from 
 me language somewhat tart and vehement. 
 
 If men would then but a little consider things, surely this 
 scurvy fashion would be soon discarded, much fitter for the 
 scum of the people than for the flower of the gentry; yea 
 rather, much below any man endued with a scrap of reason, 
 not to say with a grain of religion. Could we bethink our- 
 selves, certainly modest, sober, and pertinent discourse would 
 appear far more generous and manly, than such wild hectoring 
 God Almighty, such rude insulting over the received laws, 
 such ruffianly swaggering against sobriety and goodness. If 
 gentlemen would regard the virtues of their ancestors, (that 
 gallant courage, that solid wisdom, that noble courtesy, which 
 first advanced their families, and severed them from the vulgar,) 
 this degenerate wantonness and dirtiness of speech would re- 
 turn to the dunghill, or rather (which God grant!) would be 
 quite banished from the world. 
 
 Finally, as to this whole point, about not offending in our 
 speech against piety, we should consider, that as we ourselves,
 
 OF NOT OFFENDING IN WORD. 34!? 
 
 with all our members and powers, were chiefly designed and 
 framed to serve and glorify our Maker ; (it being withal the 
 greatest perfection of our nature, and the noblest privilege 
 thereof so to do ;) so especially our tongue and speaking fa- 
 culty were given us to declare our admiration and reverence of 
 him, to express our love and gratitude toward him, to celebrate 
 his praises, to acknowlege his benefits, to promote his honor 
 and service. This consequently is the most proper and worthy 
 use thereof; from this it becomes in eflfect what the psalmist so 
 often terms it, our * glory,' and the best member we have ; as 
 that whereby we far excel all creatures here below ; that 
 whereby we consort with the blessed angels above, in distinct 
 utterance of praise to our Creator. Wherefore applying it tt) 
 any impious discourse, (tending anywise to the dishonor of God, 
 or disparagement of religion,) is a most unnatural abuse there- 
 of, and a vile ingratitude toward him that gave it to us. Froni 
 which, and from all other oftences, God in his mercy preserve 
 us all, through Jesus Christ our Lord, unto whom for ever 
 with heart and tongue let us strive to render all glory and 
 praise. -Amen.
 
 344 SUMMARY OF 
 
 SUMMARY OF SERMON XIV. 
 
 EPHESIANS, CHAP. V. — VERSE 4. 
 
 Moral and political aphorisms are seldom couched in such 
 terms that they should be taken precisely as they sound, or 
 according to the widest extent of signification : but commonly 
 need exposition, and admit exception. The best masters of 
 such wisdom are wont to interdict things apt to be perverted, 
 in general forms of speech, leaving the restrictions which the 
 case may require or bear, to be made by the interpreter's discre- 
 tion ; whence many formal prohibitions may be received as sober 
 cautions. 
 
 It is considered how the foregoing observation may be applied 
 to the prohibition in the text. 
 
 But though we have some warrant from St. Paul himself, 
 some intimation in the words themselves, for thus expounding 
 it, yet it is manifest there is some kind of speech which he for- 
 bids : wlience in order to guide our practice, it is needful to 
 distinguish the kinds, and to sever that which is allowable from 
 what is unlawful. Such a resolution shown to be especially 
 needful in this age ; to repress the extravagance and excesses of 
 which, nothing in way of discourse can serve better than a plain 
 declaration when and how the use of facetiousness and jesting 
 is allowable or tolerable ; when it is vain and wicked. 
 
 But, first, it may be demanded what the thing spoken of is ; 
 what this facetiousness imports ? The question answered by 
 the celebrated definition or description of wit, including every 
 species of it : after which it is shown ; first, when and how such
 
 SERMON XIV. 345 
 
 a manner of speaking may be allowed ; then in what matters 
 and ways it should be condemned. 
 
 I. Such facetiousness is not absolutely unreasonable or un- 
 lawful, which ministers harmless diversion and delight to con- 
 versation ; that is, such as intrenches not on piety, infringes not 
 charity or justice, and disturbs not peace : for Christianity is 
 not so harsh or envious as to bar us continually from innocent, 
 much less wholesome and useful pleasure, such as human lite 
 needs and requires : this point enlarged on. 2. Facetiousness 
 is allowable when it is the most proper instrument for exposing 
 things apparently base and vile to due contempt : derision 
 raised against such things may effectually discountenance them. 
 Example of the prophet Elias with the worshippers of Baa!, 
 1 Kings xviii. 27. 3. Facetious discourse may be particu- 
 larly commodious for reproving some vices, and reclaiming some 
 persons, as salt for cleansing and curing some sores. It com- 
 monly works an easy access to the heart ; and many who will 
 not stand a direct reproof, will bear a jocund wipe. 4. Some 
 errors likewise in this way may be most properly and most suc- 
 cessfully refuted. Sophistical captiousness and sceptical wan- 
 tonness is more surely confounded in this than in the simple 
 way of discourse ; for it is vain to be in earnest with those who 
 reject the grounds of reasoning. 5, This also is commoaly 
 the best way of defence against unjust reproach and slander ; 
 for to yield a serious reply to a slanderous reviler, seems to 
 imply that we much consider or deeply resent it. G. This 
 way may be allowed for the purpose of counterbalancing, and 
 in compliance with the fashion of others. It would be a dis- 
 advantage to truth and virtue if their defenders were barred 
 from the use of this weapon, since it is that especially whereby 
 the patrons of error and vice maintain and propagate them. It 
 seems especially requisite to employ it in this age ; and since 
 men are so irreclaimably disposed to mirth and laughter, it may 
 be well to divert their humor into a proper channel. 7. More-
 
 346 SUMMARY OF 
 
 over, the warrantableness of this practice in some cases may be 
 thus inferred from a parity of reason. If it be lawful in using 
 rhetorical schemes, poetical strains, involutions of sense in alle- 
 gories, &c., to depart from the plain and simple way of speech ; 
 why may not facetiousness, issuing from the same principles, and 
 directed to the same ends, be likewise used blamelessly? This 
 point enlarged on. 8. It may be added that of old even the 
 sagest and gravest persons affected this kind of discourse, and 
 applied it to noble purposes : examples given. 9. Finally, 
 since it cannot be shown that such a sport of wit and fancy 
 contains an intrinsic and inseparable turpitude, since it may be 
 so used as not to defile or discompose the mind of the speaker, 
 harm the hearer, or derogate from any worthy subject of dis- 
 course, &c. but rather sometimes may yield advantage, it can- 
 not well be absolutely and universally condemned. It is the 
 abuse of it that corrupts it ; and hence the Apostle's prohibi- 
 tion. To what case or what sorts of jesting this extends is next 
 considered. 
 
 II. 1. All profane jesting, all loose and wanton speaking, 
 about holy things, relating to God and religion , is certainly prohi- 
 bited as an intolerable vain and wicked practice. No man has 
 the heart to jest, nor does he think raillery convenient, in cases 
 nearly touching his life, his estate, or his fame ; and are the true 
 life and health of the soul, interest in God's favor, and everlast- 
 ing bliss, affairs of less moment? Are the joys of paradise and 
 hell torments mere jesting matters? This point enlarged on. 
 2. Al! injurious, abusive, scurrilous jesting, which causelessly 
 tends to the disparagement, disgrace, or injury of our neighbor, 
 is also prohibited : this is not urbanity or genuine facetiousness, 
 but uncivil rudeness or vile malignity ; the office of base, un- 
 generous spirits. The reputation of men is too noble a sacrifice 
 to be offered up to vain-glory or ill humor. True festivity is 
 called salt ; and such it should be, giving a smart but savory 
 relish to discourse, exciting appetite, not creating disgust, Sec.
 
 SERMON XIV. 347 
 
 Especially this scurrilous and scoflSng way is then most detest- 
 able, when it not only exposes the blemishes and infirmities of 
 men, but abuses piety and virtue themselves : which practice 
 tends in the highest degree to the disparagement and discourage- 
 ment of goodness ; growing proportionally more criminal as it 
 presumes to attack persons eminent in dignity or worth, la 
 fine, no jesting is allowable which is not thoroughly innocent ; 
 and it is strange that any men should from so mean and silly a 
 practice as that o{ foolish jesting expect commendation, or that 
 others should bestow it. Neither is it an argument of consi- 
 derable ability in him that happens to please by this way : a 
 slender faculty will serve the turn, &c. 3. Consideration of 
 facetiousness in obscene matters may well be omitted. Such 
 things, as St. Paul says, are not so much as to he named among 
 Christians. 4. All unseasonable jesting is blameable. As 
 there are proper seasons of relaxation, so there are some times 
 and circumstances of things when it becomes us to be serious in 
 mind, grave in demeanor, and plain in discourse ; as in the pre- 
 sence of superiors, and especially in the performance of sacred 
 offices. In deliberations and debates about affairs of great im- 
 portance, the simple is the proper manner of speaking, since 
 facetious speech there serves only to obstruct business, lose time, 
 and protract the result. It is improper to be facetious with 
 those who are in a sad or afflicted condition ; also with those 
 who desire to be serious, and like not the humor. 5. To 
 affect, admire, or highly value this way of speaking, and thence 
 to be drawn into an immoderate use of it, is blameable. The 
 proper object of man, the grand drift of human life, is to follow 
 reason, that noble spark kindled in us from heaven ; not to 
 sooth fancy, that shallow and giddy power, which is able to per- 
 form nothing worthy of much regard. In particular, to do so 
 is unworthy of a Christian, who is advanced to so high a rank 
 and to such glorious relations: this point enlarged on. (5. 
 Vain-glorious ostentation in this way is very blameable. Ail
 
 348 SUMMARY OF SERMON XIV. 
 
 ambition and all vanity, on whatever ground they may be 
 founded, are unreasonable and silly : but yet when founded on 
 some real ability, or some useful skill, are wise and manly in 
 comparison with this, which stands on a foundation manifestly 
 slight and weak. 7. In the last place, it is our duty never so 
 far to engage ourselves in this way as thereby to lose or impair 
 that habitual seriousness, modesty, and sobriety of mind, which 
 become Christians, who should always keep their souls intent 
 on their high caliing a,nd grand interests. Concluding exhorta- 
 tions.
 
 AGAINST FOOLISH TALKING AND JESTING. 349 
 
 SERMON XIV. 
 
 AGAINST FOOLISH TALKING AND JESTING, 
 
 EPHESIANS, CHAP. V. — VERSE 4. 
 
 — Nor foolish talking, nor jesting, which are not convenient. 
 
 Moral and political aphorisms are seldom couched in such 
 terms, that they should be taken as they sound precisely, or 
 according to the widest extent of signification ; but do com- 
 monly need exposition, and admit exception : otherwise fre- 
 quently they would not only clash with reason and experience, 
 but interfere, thwart, and supplant one another. The best 
 masters of such wisdom are wont to interdict things, apt by un- 
 seasonable or excessive use to be perverted, in general forms 
 of speech, leaving the restrictions, which the case may require 
 or bear, to be made by the hearer's or interpreter's discretion : 
 whence many seemingly formal prohibitions are to be received 
 only as sober cautions. This observation may be particularly 
 supposed applicable to this precept of St. Paul, which seemeth 
 universally to forbid a practice commended (in some cases and 
 degrees) by philosophers as virtuous, not disallowed by reason, 
 commonly affected by men, often used by wise and good per- 
 sons; from which consequently if our religion did wholly debar 
 us, it would seem chargeable with somewhat too uncouth aus- 
 terity and sourness : from imputations of which kind as in its 
 temper and frame it is really most free, (it never quenching 
 natural light, or cancelling the dictates of sound reason, but 
 confirming and improving them;) so it carefully declinetii 
 them, enjoining us, that 'if there be any things' irpoacjjiXri,
 
 350 BARROW. — SERMON XIV. 
 
 (' lovely,' or grateful to men,) ' any things' ev(f>r)fia, (' of good 
 report' and repute,) ' if there be any virtue and any praise,' 
 (any thing in the common apprehensions of men held worthy 
 and laudable,) we should ' mind those things,' that is, should 
 yield them a regard answerable to the esteem they carry among 
 rational and sober persons. 
 
 Whence it may seem requisite so to interpret and determine 
 St. Paul's meaning here concerning evrpaireXia, (that is, face- 
 tious speech or raillery, by our translators rendered 'jesting,') 
 that he may consist wth himself, and be reconciled to Aristotle, 
 who placeth this practice in the rank of virtues ; or that reli- 
 gion and reason may well accord in the case ; supposing that, 
 if there be any kind of facetiousness innocent and reasonable, 
 conformable to good manners, (regulated by common sense, 
 and consistent with the tenor of Christian duty, that is, not 
 transgressing the bounds of piety, charity, and sobriety,) St. 
 Paul did not intend to discountenance or prohibit that kind. 
 
 For thus expounding and limiting his intent, we have some 
 warrant from himself, some fair intimations in the words here. 
 For, first, what sort of facetious speech he aimeth at, he doth 
 imply by the fellow he coupleth therewith; fiwpoXoyla, saith he, 
 f/ evrpaireXia, ' foolish talking,' or ' facetiousness:' such fa- 
 cetiousness therefore he toucheth as doth include folly, in the 
 matter or manner thereof. Then he farther determineth it, by 
 adjoining a peculiar quality thereof, unprofitableness or imper- 
 tinency ; tU fifi avriKorTa, ' which are not pertinent,' or condu- 
 cible to any good purpose : whence may be collected, that it 
 is a frivolous and idle sort of facetiousness which he con- 
 demneth. 
 
 But, however, manifest it is that some kind thereof he doth 
 earnestly forbid : whence, in order to the guidance of our prac- 
 tice, it is needful to distinguish the kinds, severing that which 
 is allowable from that which is unlawful ; that so we may 
 be satisfied in the case, and not on the one hand ignorantly 
 transgress our duty, nor on the other trouble ourselves with 
 scruples, others with censures, on the use of warrantable liberty 
 therein. 
 
 And such a resolution seemeth indeed especially needful in 
 this our age, (this pleasant and jocular age,) which is so infi-
 
 AGAINST FOOLISH TALKING AND JESTING. 351 
 
 nitely addicted to this sort of speaking, that it scarce doth 
 affect or prize any thing near so much ; all reputation appear- 
 ing now to veil and stoop to that of being a wit : to be learned, 
 to be wise, to be good, are nothing in comparison thereto ; 
 even to be noble and rich are inferior things, and afford no 
 such glory. Many at least, to purchase this glory, to be 
 deemed considerable in this faculty, and enrolled among the 
 wits, do not only ' make shipwreck of conscience,' abandon 
 virtue, and forfeit all pretences to wisdom ; but neglect their 
 estates, and prostitute their honor : so to the private damage 
 of many particular persons, and with no small prejudice to the 
 public, are our times possessed and transported with this humor. 
 To repress the excess and extravagance whereof, nothing in 
 way of discourse can serve better than a plain declaration 
 when and how such a practice is allowable or tolerable ; when 
 it is wicked and vain, unworthy of a man endued with reason, 
 and pretending to honesty or honor. 
 
 This I shall in some measure endeavor to perform. 
 
 But, first, it may be demanded what the thing we speak of 
 is, or what this facetiousness doth import ? To which question 
 I might reply as Democritus did to him that asked the definition 
 of a man, ' It is that which we all see and know :' any one 
 better apprehends what it is by acquaintance, than I can in- 
 form him by description. It is indeed a thing so versatile and 
 multiform, appearing in so many shapes, so many postures, so 
 many garbs, so variously apprehended by several eyes and 
 judgments, that it seemeth no less hard to settle a clear and 
 certain notion thereof, than to make a portrait of Proteus, or 
 to define the figure of the fleeting air. Sometimes it lieth in 
 pat allusion to a known story, or in seasonable application of 
 a trivial saying, or in forging an apposite tale : sometimes it 
 playeth in words and phrases, taking advantage from the am- 
 biguity of their sense, or the affinity of their sound : sometimes 
 it is wrapped in a dress of humorous expression : sometimes it 
 lurketh under an odd similitude : sometimes it is lodged in a 
 sly question, in a smart answer, in a quirkish reason, in a 
 shrewd intimation, in cunningly diverting, or cleverly retorting 
 an objection : sometimes it is couched in a bold scheme of
 
 352 BARROW.— SERMON XIV. 
 
 speech, in a tart irony, in a lusty hyperbole, in a startling me- 
 taphor, in a plausible reconciling of contradictions, or in acute 
 nonsense : sometimes a scenical representation of persons or 
 things, a counterfeit speech, a mimical look or gesture passeth 
 for it : sometimes an affected simplicity, sometimes a presump- 
 tuous bluntness giveth it being: sometimes it riseth from a 
 lucky hitting on what is strange, sometimes from a crafty 
 wresting obvious matter to the purpose : often it consisteth in 
 one knows not what, and springeth up one can hardly tell 
 how. Its ways are unaccountable and inexplicable, being 
 ansv/erable to the numberless rovings of fancy and windings of 
 language. It is, in short, a manner of speaking out of the 
 simple and plain way, (such as reason teacheth and proveth 
 things by,) which by a pretty surprising uncouthness in conceit 
 or expression doth affect and amuse the fancy, stirring in it 
 some wonder, and breeding some delight thereto. It raiseth 
 admiration, as signifying a nimble sagacity of apprehension, a 
 special felicity of invention, a vivacity of spirit, and reach of 
 wit more than vulgar : it seeming to argue a rare quickness of 
 parts, that one can fetch in remote conceits applicable ; a no- 
 table skill, that he can dexterously accommodate them to the 
 purpose before him ; together with a lively briskness of humor, 
 not apt to damp those sportful flashes ,of imagination. 
 (Whence in Aristotle* such persons are termed embelioi, 
 dexterous men; and ev-poiroi, men of facile or versatile man- 
 ners, who can easily turn themselves to all things, or turn all 
 things to themselves.) It also procureth delight, by gratifying 
 curiosity with its rareness or semblance of dilficulty; (as mon- 
 sters, not for their beauty, but their rarity; as juggling tricks, 
 not for their use, but their abstruseness, are beheld with plea- 
 sure ;) by diverting the mind from its road of serious thoughts; 
 by instilling gaiety and airiness of spirit ; by provoking to such 
 dispositions of spirit in way of emulation or complaisance ; and 
 by seasoning matters, otherwise distasteful or insipid, with an 
 unusual, and thence grateful tang. 
 
 But saying no more concerning what it is, and leaving it to 
 your imagination and experience to supply the defect of such 
 
 * Etli. iv. 8.
 
 AGAINST FOOLISH TALKING AND JESTING. 353 
 
 explication, I shall address myself to show, first, when and 
 how such a manner of speaking maybe allowed ; then, in what 
 matters and ways it should be condemned. 
 
 I. Such facetiousness is not absolutely unreasonable or un- 
 lawful, which ministereth harmless divertisement and delight 
 to conversation : (harmless, I say, that is, not intrenching on 
 piety, not infringing charity or justice, not disturbing peace.) 
 For Christianity is not so tetrical, so harsh, so envious, as to bar 
 us continually from innocent, much less from wholesome and 
 useful pleasure, such as human life doth need or require. And 
 if jocular discourse may serve to good purposes of this kind ; 
 if it may be apt to raise our drooping spirits, to allay our irk- 
 some cares, to whet our blunted industry, to recreate our minds 
 being tired and cloyed with graver occupations; if it may 
 breed alacrity, or maintain good humor among us ; if it may 
 conduce to sweeten conversation and endear society ; then is 
 it not inconvenient or unprofitable. If for these ends we may 
 use other recreations, employing on them our ears and eyes, 
 our hands and feet, our other instruments of sense and motion ; 
 why may we not as well to them accommodate our organs of 
 speech and interior sense ? Why should those games which 
 excite our wits and fancies be less reasonable, than those 
 whereby our grosser parts and faculties are exercised ? Yea, 
 why are not those more reasonable, since they are performed 
 in a manly way, and have in them a smack of reason ; seeing 
 also they may be so managed, as not only to divert and please, 
 but to improve and profit the mind, rousing and quickening it, 
 yea, sometimes enlightening and instructing it, by good sense 
 conveyed in jocular expression ? 
 
 It would surely be hard, that we should be tied ever to knit 
 the brow and squeeze the brain, (to be always sadly dumpish, 
 or seriously pensive,) that all divertisement of mirth and plea- 
 santness should be shut out of conversation : and how can we 
 better relieve our minds, or relax our thoughts, how can we be 
 more ingeniously cheerful, in what more kindly way can we 
 exhilarate ourselves and others, than by thus ' sacrificing to 
 the graces,' as the ancients called it ? Are not some persons 
 always, and all persons sometimes, uncapable otherwise to 
 divert themselves than by such discourse ? Shall we, I say,
 
 354 BARROW. — SERMON XIV. 
 
 have no recreation ? or must our recreations be ever clowiiish 
 or cliildish, consisting merely in rustical efforts, or in petty 
 sleights of bodily strength and activity? Were we, in fine, 
 obliged ever to talk like philosophers, assigning dry reasons 
 for every thing, and dropping grave sentences on all occasions, 
 would it not much deaden human life, and make ordinary con- 
 versation exceedingly to languish ? Facetiousness therefore in 
 such cases, and to such purposes, may be allowable. 
 
 2. Facetiousness is allowable when it is the most proper 
 instrument of exposing things apparently base and vile to due 
 contempt. It is many times expedient that things really ridi- 
 culous should appear such, that they may be sufficiently loathed 
 and shunned ; and to render them such is the part of a face- 
 tious wit, and usually can only be compassed thereby. When 
 to impugn them with downright reason, or to check them by 
 serious discourse, would signify nothing ; then representing 
 them in a shape strangely ugly to the fancy, and thereby rais- 
 ing derision at them, may effectually discountenance them. 
 Thus did the prophet Elias expose the wicked superstition of 
 those who worshipped Baal : * Elias,' saith the text, ' mocked 
 them, and said. Cry aloud : for he is a god ; either he is talk- 
 ing, or ho is pursuing, or he is in a journey, or peradventure he 
 sleepeth, and must be awaked.' By which one pregnant in- 
 stance it appeareth, that reasoning pleasantly abusive in some 
 cases may be useful. The holy Scripture doth not indeed use 
 it frequently ; (it not suiting the divine simplicity and stately 
 gravity thereof to do so;) yet its condescension thereto at any 
 time sufficiently doth authorise a cautious use thereof. When 
 sarcastical twitches are needful to pierce the thick skins of 
 men, to correct their lethargic stupidity, to rouse them out of" 
 their drowsy negligence ; then may they well be applied : 
 when plain declarations will not enlighten people, to discern 
 the truth and weight of things, and blunt arguments will not 
 penetrate to convince or persuade them to their duty ; then 
 doth reason freely resign its place to wit, allowing it to under- 
 take its work of instruction and reproof. 
 
 3. Facetious discourse particularly may be commodious for 
 reproving some vices and reclaiming some persons ; (as salt tor 
 cleansing and curing some sores.) It commonly procureth a
 
 AGAINST FOOLISH TALKING AND JESTING. 355 
 
 more easy access to the ears of men, and worketh a stronger 
 impression on their hearts, than other discourse could do. 
 Many who will not stand a direct reproof, and cannot abide 
 to be plainly admonished of their fault, will yet indure to be 
 pleasantly rubbed, and will patiently bear a jocund wipe; 
 though they abominate all language purely bitter or sour, yet 
 they can relish discourse having in it a pleasant tartness : you 
 must not chide them as their master, but you may gibe with 
 them as their companion : if you do that, they will take you 
 for pragmatical and haughty ; this they may interpret friend- 
 ship and freedom. Most men are of that temper ; and parti- 
 cularly the genius of divers persons, whose opinions and prac- 
 tices we should strive to correct, doth require not a grave and 
 severe, but a free and merry way of treating them. For what 
 can be more unsuitable and unpromising, than to seem serious 
 with those who are not so themselves, or demure with the 
 scornful ? If we design either to please or vex them into 
 better manners, we must be as sportful in a manner, or as con- 
 temptuous as themselves. If we mean to be heard by them, 
 we must talk in their own fashion, with humor and jollity : if 
 we will instruct them, we must withal somewhat divert them : 
 we must seem to play with them, if we think to convey any 
 Sober thoughts into them. They scorn to be formally advised 
 or taught ; but they may perhaps be slily laughed and lured 
 into a better mind. If by such complaisance we can inveigle 
 those dotterels to hearken to us, we may induce them to con- 
 sider farther, and give reason some competent scope, some fair 
 play with them. Good reason may be apparelled in the garb 
 of wit, and therein will securely pass, whither in its native 
 homeliness it could never arrive : and being come thither, it 
 with especial advantage may impress good advice; making an 
 offender more clearly to see, and more deeply to feel his mis- 
 carriage ; being represented to his fancy in a strain somewhat 
 rare and remarkable, yet not so fierce and frightful. The 
 severity of reproof is tempered, and the reprover's anger dis- 
 guised thereby. The guilty person cannot but observe that 
 he who thus reprehends him is not disturbed or out of humor, 
 and that he rather pitieth than hateth him; which brec^hth a 
 veneration to him, and imparteth no small efficacy to his whole-
 
 3-56 BARROW. — SERMON XIV. 
 
 some suggestions. Such a reprehension, while it forceth a 
 smile without, doth work remorse within ; while it seeraeth to 
 tickle the ear, doth sting the heart. In fine, many whose fore- 
 heads are brazed and hearts steeled against all blame, are yet 
 not of proof against derision ; divers, who never will be rea- 
 soned, may be rallied into better order : in which cases rail- 
 lery, as an instrument of so important good, as a servant of 
 the best charity, may be allowed. 
 
 4. Some errors likewise in this way may be most properly 
 and most successfully confuted ; such as deserve not, and 
 hardly can bear a serious and solid confutation. He that will 
 contest things apparently decided by sense and experience, or 
 who disavows clear principles of reason, approved by general 
 consent, and the common sense of men, what other hopeful way 
 is there of proceeding with him than pleasantly to explode his 
 conceits ? To dispute seriously with him were trifling ; to 
 trifle with him is the proper course : since he rejecteth the 
 grounds of reasoning, it is vain to be in earnest : what then 
 remains but to jest with him ? To deal seriously were to 
 yield too much respect to such a bafller, and too much weight 
 to his fancies ; to raise the man too high in his courage and 
 conceit ; to make his pretences seem worthy the considering 
 and canvassing. Briefly, perverse obstinacy is more easily 
 quelled, petulant impudence is sooner dashed, sophistical cap- 
 tiousness is more safely eluded, sceptical wantonness is more 
 surely confounded in this, than in the simple way of discourse, 
 
 o. Thisway is also commonly the best way of defence against 
 unjust reproach and obloquy. To yield to a slanderous reviler 
 a serious reply, or to make a formal plea against his charge, 
 doth seem to imply that we much consider or deeply resent it ; 
 whereas by pleasant reflexion on it we signify, the matter only 
 deserves contempt, and that we take ourselves unconcerned 
 therein. So easily without care or trouble may the brunts of 
 malice be declined or repelled. 
 
 6. This way may be allowed in way of counterbalancing and 
 in compliance to the fashion of others. It would be a disad- 
 vantage unto truth and virtue, if their defenders were barred 
 from the uae of this weapon ; since it is that especially whereby 
 the patrons of error and vice do maintain and propagate them.
 
 AGAINST FOOLISH TALKING AND JESTING. 357 
 
 They being destitute of good reason, do usually recommend 
 their absurd and pestilent notions by a pleasantness of conceit 
 and expression, bewitching the fancies of shallow hearers, and 
 inveigling heedless persons to a liking of them : and if, for re- 
 claiming such people, the folly of those seducers may in like 
 manner be displayed as ridiculous and odious, why should that 
 advantage be refused ? It is wit that wageth the war against 
 reason, against virtue, against religion ; wit alone it is that per- 
 verteth so many, and so greatly corrupteth the world ; it may 
 therefore be needful, in our warfare for those dearest concerns, 
 to sort the manner of our fighting with that of our adversaries, 
 and with the same kind of arms to protect goodness, whereby 
 they do assail it. If wit may happily serve under the banner of 
 truth and virtue, we may impress it for that service ; and good 
 it were to rescue so worthy a faculty from so vile abuse. It 
 is the right of reason and piety to command that and all other 
 endowments; folly and impiety do only usurp them : just and 
 fit therefore it is to wrest them out of so bad hands to revoke 
 them to their right use and duty. 
 
 It doth especially seem requisite to do it in this age, wherein 
 plain reason is deemed a dull and heavy thing. When the 
 mental appetite of men is become like the corporeal, and can- 
 not relish any food without some piquant sauce, so that people 
 will rather starve than live on solid fare : when substantial and 
 sound discourse findeth small attention or acceptance : in such 
 a time, he that can, may in complaisance, and for fashion's 
 sake, vouchsafe to be facetious: an ingenious vein coupled with 
 an honest mind may be a good talent: he shall employ wit 
 commendably who by it can further the interests of goodness, 
 alluring men first to listen, then inducing them to consent unto 
 its wholesome dictates and precepts. 
 
 Since men are so irreclaimably disposed to mirth and laughter, 
 it maybe well to set them in the right pin, to divert their humor 
 into the proper channel, that they may please themselves in de- 
 riding things which deserve it, ceasing to laugh at that which 
 requireth reverence or horror. 
 
 It may also be expedient to put the world out of conceit, 
 that all sober and good men are a sort of such lumpish or sour 
 people, that they can utter nothing but flat and drowsy stuff;
 
 358 BARROW. — SERMON XIV. 
 
 by showing them that such persons, when they see cause, in 
 condescension, can be as brisk and smart as themselves; when 
 they please can speak pleasantly and wittily as well as gravely 
 and judiciously. This way at least, in respect to the various 
 palates of men, may for variety sake be sometimes attempted, 
 when other means do fail : when many strict and subtile argu- 
 ings, many zealous declamations, many wholesome serious dis- 
 courses have been spent, without effecting the extirpation of 
 bad principles, or conversion of those who abet them ; this 
 course may be tried, and some perhaps may be reclaimed 
 thereby. 
 
 7. Farthermore, the warrantableness of this practice in some 
 cases may be inferred from a parity of reason, in this manner : 
 if it be lawful, (as by the best authorities it plainly doth appear 
 to be,) in using rhetorical schemes, poetical strains, involutions 
 of sense in allegories, fables, parables, and riddles, to discoast 
 from the plain and simple way of speech ; why may not face- 
 tiousness, issuing from the same principles, directed to the same 
 ends, serving to like purposes, be likewise used blamelessly ? If 
 those exorbitancies of speech may be accommodated to instil good 
 doctrine into the head, to excite good passions in the heart, to 
 illustrate and adorn the truth, in a delightful and taking way ; 
 and facetious discourse be sometime notoriously conducible to 
 the same ends ; why, they being retained, should it be rejected ? 
 especially considering how difficult often it may be to distin- 
 guish those forms of discourse from this, or exactly to define the 
 limits which sever rhetoric and raillery. Some elegant figures 
 and tropes of rhetoric (biting sarcasms, sly ironies, strong me- 
 taphors, lofty hyperboles, paronoraasies, oxymorons, and the 
 like, frequently used by the best speakers, and not seldom even 
 by sacred writers) do lie very near on the confines of jocularity, 
 and are not easily differenced from those sallies of wit wherein 
 the lepid way doth consist : so that were this wholly culpable, 
 it would be matter of scruple whether one hath committed a 
 fault or no, when he meant only to play the orator, or the 
 poet; and hard surely it would be to find a judge who could 
 precisely set out the difference between a jest and a flourish. 
 
 8. I shall only add, that of old even the sagest and gravest 
 .persons (persons of mostrigid and severe virtue) did much affect
 
 AGAINST FOOLISH TALKING AND JESTING. 369 
 
 this kind of discourse, and did apply it to noble purposes. The 
 great introducer of moral wisdom among the pagans did prac- 
 tise it so much, (by it repressing the windy pride and fallacious 
 vanity of sophisters in his time,) that he thereby got the name 
 of 6 e'ipwr, * the droll :' and the rest of those who pursued his 
 design, do by numberless stories and apophthegms recorded of 
 them, appear well skilled, and much delighted in this way. 
 Many great princes, (as Augustus Caesar for one, many of whose 
 jests are extant in Macrobius,) many grave statesmen, (as 
 Cicero particularly, who composed several books of jests,) many 
 famous captains, (as Fabius, M. Cato the Censor, Scipio Afri- 
 canus, Epaminondas, Themistocles, Phocion, and many others, 
 whose witty sayings, together with their martial exploits, are 
 reported by historians,) have pleased themselves herein, and 
 made it a condiment of their weighty businesses. So that 
 practising thus, within certain rule and compass, we cannot err 
 without great patterns and mighty patrons.* 
 
 9. In fine, since it cannot be shown that such a sportfulness 
 of wit and fancy doth contain an intrinsic and inseparable tur- 
 pitude ; since it may be so cleanly, handsomely, and innocently 
 used, as not to defile or discompose the mind of the speaker, 
 not to wrong or harm the hearer, not to derogate from any 
 worthy subject of discourse, not to infringe decency, to disturb 
 peace, to violate any of the grand duties incumbent on us, 
 (piety, charity, justice, sobriety,) but rather sometimes may 
 yield advantage in those respects ; it cannot well absolutely and 
 universally be condemned; and when not used on improper 
 matter, in an unfit manner, with excessive measure, at undue 
 season, to evil purpose, it maybe allowed. It is bad objects, 
 or bad adjuncts, which do spoil its indifference and innocence : 
 it is the abuse thereof, to which (as all pleasant things are 
 dangerous, and apt to degenerate into baits of intemperance 
 and excess) it is very liable, that corrupteth it; and seemeth to 
 be the ground why in so general terms it is prohibited by the 
 
 * The two f?rcatest men and gravest divines of their time, (S. 
 Greg'. Naz. and S. Basil.) could entertain one anotlicr with facetious 
 epistles. Gnjg. Naz. Ej). vii. ad Basil. 2,v cicwnTf KoXdidavpf, &.c. 
 £t Ep. viii.
 
 360 BARROW. — SERMON XIV. 
 
 Apostle. Which prohibition to what cases, or what sorts of 
 jesting it extendeth, we come now to declare. 
 
 II. 1. All profane jesting, all speaking loosely and wan- 
 tonly about holy things, (things nearly related to God and 
 religion,) making such things the matters of sport and mockery, 
 playing and trifling with them, is certainly prohibited, as an 
 intolerably vain and wicked practice. It is an infallible sign 
 of a vain and light spirit, which considereth little, and cannot 
 distinguish things, to talk slightly concerning persons of high 
 dignity, to whom especial respect is due ; or about matters of 
 great importance, which deserve very serious consideration, 
 ]So man speaketh, or should speak, of his prince that which 
 he hath not weighed, whether it will consist with that vene- 
 ration which should be preserved inviolate to him : and is not 
 the same, is not much greater care to be used in regard to the 
 incomparably great and glorious Majesty of heaven ? Yes, 
 surely : as we should not without great awe think of him ; so 
 ■we should not presume to mention his name, his word, his 
 institutions, any thing immediately belonging to him, without 
 profoundest reverence and dread. It is the most enormous 
 sauciness that can be imagined, to speak petulantly or pertly 
 concerning him : especially considering, that whatever we do 
 say about him, we do utter it in his presence, and to his very 
 face. ' For there is not,' as the holy psalmist considered, ' a 
 word in my tongue, but lo, O Lord, thou kuowest it altogether.' 
 No man also hath the heart to droll, or thinks raillery con- 
 venient in cases nearly touching his life, his health, his estate, 
 or his fame : and are the true life and health of our soul, are 
 interest in God's favor and mercy, are everlasting glory and 
 bliss, affairs of less moment ? Are the treasures and joys of 
 paradise, or the damages and torments in hell more jesting 
 matters ? No certainlj% no ; in all reason therefore it becometh 
 us, and it infinitely concerneth us, whenever we think of these 
 things, to be in best earnest, always to speak of them in most 
 sober sadness. 
 
 The proper objects of common mirth and sportful divertise- 
 ment are mean and petty matters ; any thing at least is by 
 playing therewith made such : great things are thereby dimi-
 
 AGAINST FOOLISH TALKING AND JESTING. 361 
 
 iiished and debased ; especially sacred things do grievously 
 suffer thence, being with extreme indecency and indio-nity 
 depressed beneath themselves, when they become the subjects 
 of flashy wit, or the entertainments of frothy merriment : to 
 sacrifice their honor to our vain pleasure, being like the ridi- 
 culous fondness of that people, which, as iElian reporteth, 
 worshipping a fly, did oflfer up an ox thereto. These things 
 were by God instituted, and proposed to us for purposes quite 
 diflferent ; to compose our hearts, and settle our fancies in a 
 most serious frame ; to breed inward satisfaction, and joy 
 purely spiritual ; to exercise our most solemn thoughts, and 
 employ our gravest discourses : all our speech therefore about 
 them should be wholesome, apt to afford good instruction, 
 or to excite good affections ; ' good,' as St. Paul speaketh, 
 ' for the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the 
 hearers.' 
 
 If we must be facetious and merry, the field is wide and 
 spacious ; there are matters enough in the world beside these 
 most august and dreadful things, to try our faculties and 
 please our humor with ; every where light and ludicrous things 
 occur : it therefore doth argue a marvellous poverty of wit, and 
 barrenness of invention, no less than a strange defect of good- 
 ness and want of discretion, in those who can devise no other 
 subjects to frolic on beside these, of all most improper and 
 perilous ; who cannot seem ingenious under the charge of so 
 highly trespassing on decency, disclaiming wisdom, wounding 
 the ears of others, and their own consciences. Seem ingenious, 
 I say ; for seldom those persons really are such, or are capable 
 to discover any wit in a wise and manly way. It is not the 
 excellency of their fancies, which in themselves usually are 
 sorry and insipid enough, but the uncouthness of their pre- 
 sumrtion; not their extraordinary wit, but their prodigious 
 rashness, which is to be admired. Tl»ey are gazed on, as the 
 doers of bold tricks, who dare perform that which no sober 
 man will attempt : they do indeed rather deserve themselves to 
 be laughed at, than their conceits. For what can be more 
 ridiculous than we do make ourselves, when we thus fiddle 
 and fool witli our own souls ; when, to make vain people merry, 
 we incense Gods earnest displeasure ; when, to raise a fit of 
 
 BAR. VOL. I. Q
 
 362 BARROW. — SERMON XIV. 
 
 present laughter, we expose ourselves to endless wailing and 
 woe ; when, to be reckoned wits, we prove ourselves stark 
 wild ? Surely to this case we may accommodate that of a truly 
 great wit. King Solomon ; ' I said of laughter, It is mad; and 
 of mirth. What doeth it V 
 
 2. All injurious, abusive, scurrilous jesting, which cause- 
 lessly or needlessly tendeth to the disgrace, damage, vexation, 
 or prejudice in any kind of our neighbor, (provoking his dis- 
 pleasure, grating on his modesty, stirring passion in him,) is 
 also prohibited. When men, to raise an admiration of their 
 wit, to please themselves, or gratify the humor of other men, 
 do expose their neighbor to scorn and contempt, making igno- 
 minious reflexions on his person or his actions, taunting his 
 real imperfections, or fastening imaginary ones on him, they 
 transgress their duty, and abuse their wits ; it is not urbanity, 
 or genuine facetiousness, but uncivil rudeness, or vile malig- 
 nity. To do thus, as it is the oflfice of mean and base spirits, 
 unfit for any worthy or weighty employments, so it is full of 
 inhumanity, of iniquity, of indecency and folly. For the 
 weaknesses of men, of what kind soever, (natural or moral, in 
 quality or in act,) considering whence they spring, and how 
 much we are all subject to them, and do need excuse for them, 
 do in equity challenge compassion to be had of them ; not 
 complacency to be taken in them, or mirth drawn from them ; 
 they, in respect to common humanity, should rather be stu- 
 diously connived at and concealed, or mildly excused, than 
 vvilfuUy laid open, and wantonly descanted on ; they rather 
 are to be deplored secretly than openly derided. 
 
 The reputation of men is too noble a sacrifice to be offered 
 up to vain glory, fond pleasure, or ill humor; it is a good far 
 more dear and precious, than to be prostituted for idle sport 
 and divertisement. It becometh us not to trifle with that, 
 which in common estimation is of so great moment ; to play- 
 rudely with a thing so very brittle, yet of so vast price ; which 
 being once broken or cracked, it is very hard, and scarce possi- 
 ble, to repair. A small transient pleasure, a tickling the ears, 
 wagging the lungs, forming the face into a smile, a giggle, or a 
 hum, are not to be purchased with the grievous distaste and 
 smart, perhaps with the real damage and mischief of our neigh-
 
 AGAINST FOOLISH TALKING AND JESTING. 363 
 
 bor, which attend on contempt.* This is not jesting surely, 
 but bad earnest : it is wild mirth, which is the mother of grief 
 to those whom we should tenderly love ; it is unnatural sport, 
 which breedeth displeasure in them whose delight it should 
 promote, whose liking it should procure : it crosseth the nature 
 and design of this way of speaking ; which is to cement and 
 ingratiate society, to render conversation pleasant and sprightly, 
 for mutual satisfaction and comfort. 
 
 True festivity is called ' salt ;' and such it should be, giving 
 a smart, but savory relish to discourse ; exciting an appetite, 
 not irritating disgust ; cleansing sometime, but never creating 
 sore : and, eav fxwpavd^, ' if it become thus insipid,' or unsavory, 
 ' it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and 
 trodden under foot of men.' Such jesting which doth not 
 season wholesome or harmless discourse, but giveth a haut-gout 
 to putid and poisonous stuff, gratifying distempered palates and 
 corrupt stomachs, is indeed odious and despicable folly, ' to be 
 cast out' with loathing, * to be trodden under foot' with con- 
 tempt. If a man offends in this sort to please himself, it is 
 scurvy malignity ; if to delight others, it is base servility and 
 flattery: on the first score he is a buftbon to himself; on the 
 last, a fool to others. And well in common speech are such 
 practisers so termed, the grounds of that practice being so vain, 
 and the effect so unhappy. ' The heart of fools,' saith the wise 
 man, ' is in the house of mirth;' meaning, it seems, especially such 
 hurtfully-wanton mirth: for it is, as he farther tells us, the 
 property of fools to delight in doing harm : ' It is a sport to a 
 fool to do mischief.' f Is it not in earnest most palpable folly 
 
 * Prov. xxvi. 18. 19. As a mad miui, who castcth fire-brands, ar- 
 rows, and deatli; so is the man that deceivetli Iiis neighbor, and 
 saitb, Am not I in sport? 
 
 Ot eVeSpeuocTes tovs <pl\ovs- — LXX. 
 t Fools make a mock of sin. — Prov. xiv. 9. 
 Potius amicum quam dictum perdidi. 
 
 dummodo risum 
 
 Excutiat sibi, non hie cuiquam parcel amico. — Hor. Sat i. 4. 
 
 dicax idem,ct 'I'ibcrium accrbis faccliis irridcrc so- 
 
 litus, qiiarum apud praepotentes in lonjjum memoria est. — Tac. v. 
 Ann. p. 184.
 
 364 BARROW. — SERMON XIV. 
 
 for so mean ends to do so great harm ; to disoblige men in 
 sport ; to lose friends, and get enemies, for a conceit ; out of a 
 light humor to provoke fierce wrath, and breed tough hatred ; 
 to engage oneself consequently very far in strife, danger, and 
 trouble ? No way certainly is more apt to produce such effects 
 than this ; nothing more speedily inflameth, or more thoroughly 
 ensageth men, or sticketh longer in men's hearts and memories, 
 than bitter taunts and scoffs : whence this honey soon turns 
 into gall ; these jolly comedies do commonly terminate in 
 ■woful tragedies. 
 
 Especially this scurrilous and scoffing way is then most de- 
 testable, when it not only exposeth the blemishes and infirmi- 
 ties of men, but abuseth piety and virtue themselves ; flouting 
 persons for their constancy in devotion, or their strict adhe- 
 rence to a conscientious practice of duty ; aiming to effect that 
 which Job complaineth of, ' the just upright man is laughed (o 
 scorn ;' resembling those whom the psalmist thus describeth, 
 * who whet their tongue like a sword, and bend their arrows, 
 even bitter words, that they may shoot in secret at the perfect ;' 
 serving good men as Jeremy was served, ' The word of the 
 Lord,' saith he, ' was made a reproach unto me, and a derision 
 daily.' 
 
 This practice doth evidently in the highest degree tend to 
 the disparagement and discouragement of goodness; aiming to 
 expose it, and to render men ashamed thereof; and it mani- 
 festly proceedeth from a desperate corruption of mind, from a 
 mind hardened and emboldened, sold and enslaved to wicked- 
 ness : whence they who deal therein are in holy Scripture re- 
 presented as egregious sinners, or persons superlatively wicked, 
 under the name of «corwers ; (\otfj.ovs, pests, or pestilent men, 
 the Greek translators call them, properly enough in regard to 
 the effects of their practice ;) concerning whom the wise man, 
 signifying how God will meet with them in their own way, 
 saith, ' Surely the Lord scorneth the scorners.* 'E/.iiraiKras, scof- 
 fers, (or mockers,) St. Peter terraeth them, ' who walk accord- 
 ing to their own lusts ;' who not being willing to practise, are 
 ready to deride virtue ; thereby striving to seduce others into 
 their pernicious courses. 
 
 This offence also proportionably groweth more criminal, as
 
 AGAINST FOOLISH TALKING AND JESTING. 365 
 
 it presumeth to reach persons eminent in dignity or worth, unto 
 whom special veneration is appropriate. This adjoineth sauci- 
 ness to scurrility, and advanceth the wrong thereof into a kind 
 of sacrilege. It is not only injustice, but profaneness, to ' abuse 
 the gods.'* Their station is a sanctuary from all irreverence 
 and reproach ; they are seated on high, that we may only look 
 up to them with respect; their defects are not to be seen, or 
 not to be touched by malicious or wanton wits, by spiteful or 
 scornful tongues : the diminution of their credit is a public 
 mischief, and the state itself doth suffer in their becoming ob- 
 jects of scorn ; not only themselves are vilified and degraded, 
 but the great affairs they manage are obstructed, the justice 
 they administer is disparaged thereby. 
 
 In fine no jesting is allowable, which is not throughly inno- 
 cent : it is an unworthy perverting of wit, to employ it in bit- 
 ing and scratching; in working prejudice to any man's reputa- 
 tion or interest ; in needlessly incensing any man's anger or 
 sorrow ; in raising animosities, dissensions, and feuds among 
 any. 
 
 Whence it is somewhat strange that any men from so mean 
 and silly a practice should expect commendation, or that any 
 should afford regard thereto ; the which it is so far from merit- 
 ing, that indeed contempt and abhorrence are due to it. Men 
 do truly more render themselves despicable than others, when, 
 without just ground or reasonable occasion, they do attack 
 others in this way. That such a practice doth ever find any 
 encouragement or acceptance, whence can it proceed, but 
 from the bad nature and small judgment of some persons ? For 
 to any man who is endued with any sense of goodness, and 
 hath a competence of true wit, or a right knowlege of good 
 manners, (who knows — imirbanum kpido seponere dido,) it 
 cannot but be unsavory and loathsome. The repute it obtuiii- 
 eth is in all respects unjust. So would it appear, not only 
 were the cause to be decided in the court of morality, because 
 it consists not with virtue and wisdom ; but even before any 
 
 * 11(5^^0) Se toDto XpiiTTiafou, rb KtD/xyServ. — Chrys. in F,|)h. Or. 17. 
 Idem.
 
 3G6 BARROW. — SERMON XIV. 
 
 competent judges of wit itself. For he overthrows his own 
 pretence, and cannot reasonably claim any interest in wit, who 
 doth thus behave himself: he prejudgeth himself to want wit, 
 who cannot descry fit matter to divert himself or others : he 
 discovereth a great straitness and sterility of good invention, 
 who- cannot in all the wide field of things find better subjects 
 of discourse ; who knows not how to be ingenious within rea- 
 sonable compass, but to pick up a sorry conceit is forced to 
 make excursions beyond the bounds of honesty and decency. 
 
 Neither is it any argument of considerable ability in him 
 that haps to please this way : a slender faculty will serve the 
 turn. The sharpness of his speech cometh not from wit so 
 much as from choler, which furnisheth the lowest inventions 
 with a kind of pungent expression, and giveth an edge to every 
 spiteful word :* so that any dull wretch doth seem to scold 
 eloquently and ingeniously. Commonly also satirical taunts 
 do owe their seeming piquancy, not to the speaker or his words, 
 but to the subject and the hearers ; the matter conspiring with 
 the bad nature or the vanity of men, who love to laugh at any 
 rate, and to be pleased at the expense of other men's repute ; 
 conceiting themselves extolled by the depression of their neigh- 
 bor, and hoping to gain by his loss. Such customers they 
 are that maintain the bitter wits, who otherwise would want 
 trade, and might go a-begging. For commonly they who seem 
 to excel this way are miserably flat in other discourse, and most 
 dully serious : they have a particular unaptness to describe any 
 good thing, or commend any worthy person ; being destitute 
 of right ideas, and proper terms answerable to such purposes : 
 their representations of that kind are absurd and unhandsome ; 
 their elogies (to use their own way of speaking) are in eflfect 
 satires, and they can hardly more abuse a man than by at- 
 tempting to commend him ; like those in the prophet, who 
 were ' wise to do ill, but to do well had no knowlege.' 
 
 3. I pass by that it is very culpable to be facetious in 
 obscene and smutty matters. Such things are not to be dis- 
 
 * Obtiectatio ct livor pronis auribus accipiuntur: quippe adiila- 
 tioni Coedum crimen servitutis, malignitati falsa species libertatis 
 incbt. — Tac. Hist. i. inil.
 
 AGAINST FOOLISH TALKING AND JESTING. 367 
 
 coursed on either in jest or in earnest ; they must not, as St. 
 Paul saith, be ' so much as named among Christians :' to med- 
 dle with them is not to disport, but to defile oneself and 
 others. There is indeed no more certain sign of a mind utterly 
 debauched from piety and virtue, than affecting such talk. 
 But farther, 
 
 4. All unseasonable jesting is blameable. As there are some 
 proper seasons of relaxation, when we may desipere in loco ; 
 so are there some times and circumstances of things, wherein it 
 concerneth and becometh men to be serious in mind, grave in 
 demeanor, and plain in discourse ; when to sport in this vi^ay 
 is to do indecently, or uncivilly, to be impertinent, or trouble- 
 some.* 
 
 It comporteth not well with the presence of superiors, 
 before whom it becometh us to be composed and modest: much 
 less with the performance of sacred offices, which require an 
 earnest attention, and most serious frame of mmd. 
 
 In deliberations and debates about affairs of great import- 
 ance, the simple manner of speaking to the point is the proper, 
 easy, clear, and compendious way : facetious speech there 
 serves only to obstruct and entangle business, to lose time, and 
 protract the result, f The shop and exchange will scarce en- 
 dure jesting in their lower transactions: the senate, the court 
 of justice, the church do much more exclude it from their more 
 weighty consultations. Whenever it justleth out, or hindereth 
 the dispatch of other serious business, taking up the room or 
 swallowing the time due to it, or indisposing the minds of the. 
 audience to attend it, then it is unseasonable and pestilent. 
 UaiSetv, 'iva aitovhuiris,X * to play, that we may be seriously 
 busy,' is the good rule of Anacharsis, implying the subordina- 
 tion of sport to business, as a condiment and furtherance, not 
 an impediment or clog thereto. He that for his sport neglects 
 his business, deserves indeed to be reckoned among children ; 
 
 * Vitandum ne petulans, nc supcrbum, no loco, ne tompori alic- 
 num, ne prreparatum et domo allatum videatiir. — Quint. 
 t M57 |Uot TO. k6ix^\ a\\' Siv ttoAci ou. — Eurip. Arlst. Pol. ii. 4. 
 X Arist. Eth. x. 6.
 
 368 BARROW. — SERMON XIV. 
 
 and children's fortune will attend hira, to be pleased with toys, 
 and to fail of substantial profit. 
 
 It is, again, improper (because indeed uncivil and inhuman) 
 to jest with persons that are in a sad or afflicted condition;* as 
 arguing want of due considering or due commiserating their 
 case : it appears a kind of insulting on their misfortune, and is 
 apt to foment their grief. Even in our own case, on any dis- 
 astrous occurrence to ourselves, it would not be seemly to 
 frolic it thus ; it would signify want of due regard to the 
 frowns of God and the strokes of his hand ; it would cross the 
 wise man's advice, ' In the day of prosperity be joyful, but in 
 the day of adversity consider.' 
 
 It is also not seasonable, or civil, to be jocund in this way 
 with those who desire to be serious, and like not the humor. 
 Jocularity should not be forcibly obtruded, but by a kindly 
 conspiracy, or tacit compact, slip into conversation : consent and 
 complaisance give all the life thereto. Its design is to sweeten 
 and ease society ; when to the contrary it breedeth offence or 
 incumbrance, it is worse than vain and unprofitable. From 
 these instances we may collect when in other like cases it is 
 unseasonable, and therefore culpable. Farther, 
 
 5. To affect, admire, or highly to value this way of speak- 
 ing, either absolutely in itself, or in comparison to the serious 
 and plain way of speech, and thence to be drawn into an im- 
 moderate use thereof, is blameable. A man of ripe age and 
 sound judgment, for refreshment to himself, or in complaisance 
 to others, may sometimes condescend to play in this or in any 
 other harmless way : but to be fond of it, to prosecute it with 
 a careful or painful eagerness, to doat and dwell on it, to 
 reckon it a brave or a fine thing, a singular matter of commen- 
 dation, a transcendent accomplishment, anywise preferable to 
 rational endowments, or comparable to the moral excellencies 
 of our mind, (to solid knowlege, or sound wisdom, or true 
 virtue and goodness,) this is extremely childish, or brutish, and 
 far below a man. What can be more absurd than to make a 
 business of play, to be studious and laborious in toys, to make 
 
 * Adversus miseros Inhumanus est jocus. — Quint.
 
 AGAINST FOOLISH TALKING AND JESTING. 369 
 
 a profession or drive a trade of impertinency ?* what more 
 plain nonsense can there be than to be earnest in jest, to be 
 continual in divertiseraent, or constant in pastime ; to make ex- 
 travagance all our way, and sauce all our diet ? Is not this 
 plainly the life of a child, that is ever busy, yet never hath any 
 thing to do ? or the life of that mimical brute, which is always 
 active in playing uncouth and unlucky tricks ; which, could it 
 speak, might surely pass well for a professed wit ? 
 
 The proper work of man, the grand drift of human life, is to 
 follow reason, (that noble spark kindled in us from heaven ; 
 that princely and powerful faculty, which is able to reach so 
 lofty objects, and to achieve so mighty works ;) not to sooth 
 fancy, that brutish, shallow, and giddy power, able to perform 
 nothing worthy much regard. ' We are not,' even Cicero 
 could tell us, ' born for play and jesting ; but for severity, and 
 the study of graver and greater affairs. 'f Yes, we were pur- 
 posely designed, and fitly framed, to understand and contem- 
 plate, to affect and delight in, to undertake and pursue most 
 noble and worthy things ; to be employed in business conside- 
 rably profitable to ourselves, and beneficial to others : wa do 
 therefore strangely debase ourselves, when we do strongly bend 
 our minds to, or set our affections on such toys. 
 
 Especially to do so is unworthy of a Christian ; that is of a 
 person who is advanced to so high a rank, and so glorious re- 
 lations ; who hath so excellent objects of his mind and afiec- 
 tions presented before him, and so excellent rewards for his care 
 and pains proposed to him ; who is engaged in afl'airs of so 
 worthy nature, and so immense consequence : for him to be 
 zealous about quibbles, for him to be ravished with puny con- 
 ceits and expressions, it is a wondrous oversight, and an enor- 
 mous indecency. 
 
 He indeed that prefers any faculty to reason, disclaims tlie 
 privilege of being a man, and understands not the worth of his 
 own nature ; he that prizes any quality beyond virtue and 
 
 * ^irovdi^etv Kal irovuv iraiSius X^^P^"' ^^'^lov (pali/erai, Koi \lav TraiSiKdv. — 
 Arist. Eth. \. 0". 
 
 t Ncquo oiiinj ita gciicrati a natura sumus, ut ad Iiidum jocnin- 
 (jue facti vidoamur; sed ad scvt ritatcin polius, ct ad quiedani sludia 
 graviora atque majora. — Cic Ull. i.
 
 370 BARROW. — SERMON XIV. 
 
 goodness, renounces the title of a Christian, and knows not bow 
 to value the dignity of his profession. It is these two, reason 
 and virtue, in conjunction, which produce all that is consider- 
 ably good and great in the world. Fancy can do little ; doeth 
 never any thing well, except as directed and wielded by them. 
 Do pretty conceits or humorous talk carry on any business, or 
 perform any work ? No ; they are ineffectual and fruitless : 
 often they disturb, but they never dispatch any thing with good 
 success. It is simple reason, as dull and dry as it seemeth, 
 which expediteth all the grand affairs, which accomplisheth all 
 the mighty works that we see done in the world. In truth, 
 therefore, as one diamond is worth numberless bits of glass ; 
 so one solid reason is worth innumerable fancies : one grain of 
 true science and sound wisdom in real worth and use doth out- 
 weigh loads, if any loads can be, of freakish wit. To rate 
 things otherwise doth argue great weakness of judgment and 
 fondness of mind. So to conceit of this way signifieth a weak 
 mind ; and much to delight therein rendereth it so : nothing 
 more debaseth the spirit of a man, or more rendereth it light 
 and trifling.* 
 
 Hence if we must be venting pleasant conceits, we should 
 do it ' as if we did it not,' carelessly and unconcernedly; not 
 standing on it, or valuing ourselves for it : we should do it with 
 measure and moderation ; not giving up ourselves thereto, so 
 as to mind it, or delight in it more than in any other thing : we 
 should not be so intent on it as to become remiss in affairs more 
 proper or needful for us ; so as to nauseate serious business, or 
 disrelish the more worthy entertainments of our minds. This is 
 the great danger of it, which we daily see men to incur ; they 
 are so bewitched with a humor of being witty themselves, or of 
 
 * 'Cs /jii] avupaiPdv Kara rax/rijv tj/uxrjs v^\f/iv, Koi evrpaireXias SioxvC'*'. — 
 Bas. Const. Mon. 12. 
 
 TloWovs avfji^aivei roiis irepl to roiavra a.ffxo\ovixivovs, rov updov \6yo\j Sia- 
 fiapravtiv , ttjs ^vx^i^ irphs yeXo'ta ixiv 5iax^ofj.einis, Kal rh rrjs (ppovrjcreios auvvovv 
 Kou TreirvKvciiuivov KaraXvovaris. — Ibid. 
 
 Jocoruin fiequens usus omne animis pondus, omnemque vim eri- 
 piet. — Sen. de Tranq. c. xv. 
 
 'H eiiTpansXia fiaXuKyv Troie? rrju i/zuxV, padvj^hv, avaiffizTaiKviav, — Chrjs. 
 in Eph. 17.
 
 AGAINST FOOLISH TALKING AND JESTING. 371 
 
 hearkening to the fancies of others, that it is this only whicii 
 they can like or savor, which they can endure to think or talk 
 of. It is a great pity, that raen who would seem to have so 
 much wit, should so little undertand themselves. But farther, 
 
 6. Vain-glorious ostentation this way is very blameable. 
 All ambition, all vanity, all conceitedness, on whatever ground 
 they are founded, are absolutely unreasonable and silly : but 
 yet those, being grounded on some real ability, or some useful 
 skill, are v/ise and manly in comparison to this, which standeth 
 on a foundation so manifestly slight and weak. The old phi- 
 losophers by a severe father* were called animalia glorice, 
 ' animals of glory;' and by a satirical poet they were termed 
 ' bladders of vanity :' but they at least did catch at praise from 
 praiseworthy knowlege ; they were puffed up with a wind 
 which blowed some good to mankind ; they sought glory from 
 that which deserved glory, if they had not sought it ; it was & 
 substantial and solid credit which they did affect, resulting 
 from successful enterprises of strong reason and stout industry . 
 hut these animalcula gloria, these flies, these insects of glory, 
 these, not bladders, but bubbles of vanity, would be admired 
 and praised for that which is nowise admirable or laudable ; 
 for the casual hits and emergencies of roving fancy ; for stum- 
 bling on an odd conceit or phrase, which signifieth nothing, and 
 is as superficial as the smile, as hollow as the noise it causeth. 
 Nothing certainly in nature is more ridiculous than a self-con- 
 ceited wit, who deenieth himself somebody, and greatly pre- 
 tendeth to commendation from so pitiful and worthless a thiiiu^ 
 as a knack of trifling. 
 
 7. Lastly, it is our duty never so far to engage ourseivt> m 
 this way, as thereby to lose or to impair that habitual serious- 
 ness, modesty, and sobriety of mind, that steady composedness, 
 gravity and constancy of demeanour, which become Christians. 
 We should continually keep our minds intent on our ' high 
 calling,' and grand interest; ever well tuned, and ready for 
 the performance of holy devotions, and the practice of most 
 serious duties with earnest attention and fervent affection : 
 wherefore we should never sufler them to be dissolved into 
 levity, or disordered into a wanton frame, indisposing us h>r 
 
 * Tcrtul.
 
 372 BARROW. — SERMON XIV. 
 
 religious thoughts and actions. We ought always in our beha- 
 vior to maintain not only to irpe-nov, a fitting decency, but 
 also TO aefivoy, a stately gravity, a kind of venerable majesty, 
 suitable to that high rank which we bear of God's friends and 
 children ; adorning our holy profession, and guarding us from 
 all impressions of sinful vanity. Wherefore we should not let 
 ourselves be transported into any excessive pitch of lightness, 
 inconsistent with, or prejudicial to, our Christian state and 
 business. Gravity and modesty are the fences of piety, which 
 being once slighted, sin will easily attempt and encroach on us. 
 So the old Spanish gentleman may be interpreted to have been 
 wise, who, when his son on a voyage to the Indies took his 
 leave of him, gave him this odd advice ; * My son, in the first 
 place keep thy gravity, in the next place fear God :' intimat- 
 ing that a man must first be serious before he can be pious. 
 
 To conclude, as we need not be demure, so must we not be 
 impudent; as we should not be sour, so ought we not to be 
 fond ; as we may be free, so we should not be vain ; as we 
 may well stoop to friendly complaisance, so we should take 
 heed of falling into contemptible levity. If without wronging 
 others, or derogating from ourselves, we can be facetious ; if 
 we can use our wits in jesting innocently and conveniently ; we 
 may sometimes do it : but let us, in compliance with St. Paul's 
 direction, beware of ' foolish talking and jesting, which are 
 not convenient.' 
 
 ' Now the God of grace and peace make us perfect in 
 every good work to do his will, working in us that which is 
 well pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ ; to whom be 
 glory for ever and ever.' Amen.
 
 SERMON XV, 373 
 
 SUMMARY OF SERMON XV. 
 
 JAMES, CHAP. V. — VERSE 12. 
 
 St. James does not in this text mean universally to inter- 
 dict the use of oaths, which are in some cases lawful and ex- 
 pedient, nay even connected with our duty ; but that swearing 
 which our Lord expressly prohibited to his disciples, which is, 
 needless and heedless swearing in ordinary conversation ; a 
 practice then frequent both among Jews and Gentiles, and 
 which, to the shame of the present age, is in fashion also among 
 Christians. From such a practice the Apostle dehorts us in 
 terms denoting his great anxiety, and implying the matter to be 
 of the highest importance. Some considerations on this head 
 proposed to us. 
 
 I. The nature of an oath, and what we do when we venture 
 to swear. It is, as expressed in the Decalogue, an assuming 
 the name of our God, to countenance and confirm what we say. 
 It is an invocation of God as a faithful witness of the truth of 
 our words or the sincerity of our meaning. It is an appeal to 
 him as an upright judge. It is a formal engagement of him to 
 be the avenger of the violation of our oath. It is a hinding of 
 our souls solemnly to answer before God, and to undergo the 
 issue of his judgment about what we affirm or undertake. 
 
 Hence we may collect that swearing requires great modesty 
 and composedness of spirit ; very serious consideration, that we 
 be not rude with God, in taking up his name and prostituting 
 it to vile or mean uses ; that we do not abuse or debase his 
 authority, &c. for we should reflect and consider what a pre- 
 sumption it is, without due regard and reverence to lay hold on
 
 374 SUMMARY OF 
 
 God's name ; how grievously indecent it is at every turn to 
 suniinon our Maker to second our giddy passions ; what a wild- 
 ness it is to dally with that judgment on which the eternal doom 
 of all creatures depends ; how prodigious a madness it is, with- 
 out any constraint or needful cause to incur so horrible a danger, 
 and to defy that vengeance which can thrust us down to end- 
 less woe. Even a heathen philosopher, considering the nature 
 of an oath, did conclude the unlawfulness of it on slight occa- 
 sions. 
 
 II. We may consider that swearing, agreeably to its na- 
 ture and tendency, is represented in holy Scripture as a special 
 part of religious worship ; in the due performance of which we 
 avow God for the governor of the world, piously acknowleging 
 his principal attributes and special prerogatives : it also inti- 
 mates a pious trust and confidence in him. God in goodness 
 to such ends has pleased to lend us his great name ; and in 
 many exigences he exacts this practice from us, as an instance 
 of our religious confidence in him, and as a service conducive to 
 his glory : this therefore, like all other acts of devotion, should 
 never be performed without serious consideration and lowly 
 reverence. If we do presume to offer this service, we should do 
 It in the manner appointed by God himself; the cause of it 
 must be very needful or expedient, the design honest and use- 
 ful ; otherwise we desecrate swearing, and are guilty of profaning 
 a most sacred ordinance. 
 
 III. We may consider that the swearing prohibited is very 
 noxious to human society. 
 
 The great prop of society is conscience, or a sense of duty 
 towards God, obliging us to perform what is right and equal, 
 quickened by hope of rewards and fear of punishments from 
 him; without which principle no worldly consideration can hold 
 men fast. Instances given in which, for the public interest, 
 it is requisite that the highest obligations possible should be 
 laid on the consciences of men : and such are those of oaths.
 
 SERMON XV. 375 
 
 To these purposes therefore they have ever been applied ; by 
 them nations have ratified leagues, princes have bound their 
 subjects to obedience, and generals have engaged their soldiers 
 to bear hardships and dangers ; by them the nuptial league has 
 been confirmed, and on them the decision of the most impor- 
 tant causes has depended. The best men could scarcely ever 
 trust the best without this obligation. Instances quoted from 
 Scripture : these declare that there is no security vrhich mcrj 
 can yield comparable to that of an oath ; w^herefore human so- 
 ciety veill be extremely wronged by dissolving or slackening 
 these most sacred bonds of conscience, and consequently by 
 their common and careless use : for the detriments accruing to 
 the public from this abuse every vain swearer is responsible ; 
 nor will he ever be able to make reparation for them. 
 
 IV. Let us consider that rash and vain swearing is very apt 
 to bring the practiser of it into the most horrible sin of perjury. 
 He that swears at random, as passion moves or fancy prompts, 
 or the tempter suggests, will often assert that which is false, or 
 promise that which is impossible. 
 
 V. Such swearing commonly will induce a man to bind him- 
 self by oath to unlawful practices : instances of Saul and 
 H erod. 
 
 VI. It will also frequently engage a man in undertakings 
 very inconvenient and detrimental to himself; for a man is 
 bound to perform his vows to the. Lord, whatever damage they 
 may cause to himself, if they be not unlawful : this confirmed 
 by Scripture. 
 
 VII. Swearing is a sin of all others peculiarly clamorous, 
 and provocative of divine judgment. God is bound in honor 
 to vindicate his name from the abuse, his authority from the 
 contempt, his holy ordinance from the profanation whicii it 
 infers. 
 
 VIII. Passing over the special laws against it, the mis- 
 chievous consequences of it, and the sore punishments ap-
 
 376 SUMMARY OF 
 
 pointed to it, we may consider that to common sense vain 
 swearing is a practice very ill becoming any sober, worthy, 
 honest person, especially a Christian : this point enlarged on, 
 and enforced by quotations from profane and sacred writers. 
 
 IX. The practice of swearing greatly disparages him that 
 uses it, and derogates from his credit, inasmuch as it signifies 
 that he does not confide in his own reputation ; by it he au- 
 thorises others to distrust him ; it renders what he says to be 
 in reason suspicious, as discovering him to be void of conscience 
 and discretion, &c. 
 
 X. To excuse these faults, the swearer will be forced to con- 
 fess that his oaths are no more than waste and insignificant 
 words ; deprecating the being taken for serious, or to be under- 
 stood that he means any thing by them. 
 
 XI. But farther, on higher accounts this is a very uncivil 
 and unmannerly practice : some vain persons take it for a gen- 
 teel and graceful accomplishment ; but in truth there is no 
 practice more crossing the genuine nature of gentility, or mis- 
 becoming persons well born and well bred : this topic en- 
 larged on. 
 
 XII. Moreover the words of our Lord, when he forbad this 
 practice, suggest another consideration against it deducible 
 from the causes and sources of it: let your communication, 
 says he, he yea, yea; nay, nay ; for whatsoever is more than 
 these Cometh of evil. Consult experience then, and observe 
 whence it proceeds : sometimes from exorbitant heats of spirit 
 and unbridled passion ; sometimes from arrogant conceit and 
 a tyrannical humor ; sometimes from wantonness and levity of 
 mind ; sometimes from stupid inadvertency or heedless preci- 
 pitancy ; sometimes from profane boldness, or from apish imi- 
 tation ; but always from a great defect of conscience, of reve- 
 rence to God, and of love to goodness. 
 
 XIII. Farther, this offence may be aggravated by consider- 
 ing that it hath no strong temptation alluriiig to it ; that it
 
 SERMON XV. 377 
 
 gratifies no sense, yields no profit, procures no honor : the vain 
 swearer has not the common plea of human infirmity to excuse 
 him. 
 
 XIV. Let us consider that, as we ourselves with all our 
 members and powers were chiefly designed and made to glo- 
 rify our Maker, which is our greatest privilege, so our tongue 
 and speaking faculty were given us to declare our admiration 
 and reverence of him, exhibit our love and gratitude to\Vards 
 him, to profess our trust in him, to celebrate his praises and 
 avow his benefits : wherefore to apply this to any impious dis- 
 course, and to profane his holy name, is an unnatural abuse of 
 it, and horrid ingratitude towards him. Likewise a secondary 
 and worthy use of speech is, to promote the good of our neigh- 
 bor, according to the precept of the Apostle, Eph. iv. 29. but 
 the practice of vain swearing serves to corrupt him, and instil 
 into him a contempt of religion. 
 
 XV. Lastly, we should consider two things ; first, that our 
 blessed Saviour, who did and suffered so much for us, and who 
 said, if ye love me, keep my commandments, thus positively hath 
 enjoined; But I say unto you, swear not at all: secondly, 
 we should consider well the reason with which St. James en- 
 forces the point, and the sting in the close of the text ; but above 
 all things, my brethren, swear not ; — lest ye fall into condem- 
 nation.
 
 378 BARROW. — SERMON XV. 
 
 SERMON XV. 
 AGAINST RASH AND VAIN SWEAROG. 
 
 JAMES, CHAP. V. — VERSE 12. 
 
 But above all things, my brethren, swear not. 
 
 Among other precepts of good life (directing the practice of 
 virtue and abstinence from sin) St. James doth insert this about 
 swearing, couched in expression denoting his great earnestness, 
 and apt to excite our special attention. Therein he doth not 
 mean universally to interdict the use of oaths ; (for that in some 
 cases is not only lawful, but very expedient, yea needful, and 
 required from us as a duty ;) but that swearing which our Lord 
 had expressly prohibited to his disciples, and which thence, 
 questionless, the * brethren ' to whom St. James did write did 
 well understand themselves obliged to forbear, having learnt so 
 in the first catechisms of Christian institution ; that is, needless 
 and heedless swearing in ordinary conversation : a practice then 
 frequented in the world, both among Jews and Gentiles ; the 
 which also, to the shame of our age, is now so much in fashion, 
 and with some men in vogue ; the invoking God's name, ap- 
 pealing to his testimony, and provoking his judgment, on any 
 slight occasion, in common talk, with vain incogitancy, or pro- 
 fane boldness. From such practice the holy Apostle dehorteth 
 in terms importing his great concernedness, and implying the 
 matter to be of highest importance : for, irpo Travrwv, saith he, 
 ' before all things, my brethren, do not swear ;' as if he did 
 apprehend this sin of all other to be one of the most heinous 
 and pernicious. Could he have said more ? would behave said 
 so much, if he had not conceived the matter to be of exceeding
 
 AGAINST RASH AND VAIN SWEARING. 379 
 
 weight and consequence ? And that it is so I mean now, by 
 God's help, to show you, by proposing some considerations, 
 whereby the heinous wickedness, together with the monstrous 
 folly, of such rash and vain swearing will appear ; the which 
 being laid to heart will, I hope, effectually dissuade and deter 
 from it. 
 
 I. Let us consider the nature of an oath, and what we do 
 when we adventure to swear. 
 
 It is (as it is phrased in the Decalogue, and otherwhere 
 in holy Scripture) an ' assuming the name of our God,^ and 
 applying it to our purpose, to countenance and confirm what 
 we say.* 
 
 It is an invocation of God as a most faithful witness, con- 
 cerning the truth of our words, or the sincerity of our meaning. 
 
 It is an appeal to God as a most upright Judge, whether 
 we do prevaricate in asserting what we do not believe true, or 
 in promising what we are not firmly resolved to perform. 
 
 It is a formal engagement of God to be the Avenger of our 
 trespassing in violation of truth or faith. 
 
 It is a ' binding our souls 't with a most strict and solemn ob- 
 ligation, to answer before God, and to undergo the issue of his 
 judgment about what we affirm or undertake. 
 
 Such an oath is represented to us in holy Scripture. 
 
 Whence we may collect that swearing doth require great 
 modesty and composedness of spirit, very serious consideration 
 and solicitous care that we be not rude and saucy with God, 
 ' in taking up his name,' and prostituting it to vile or mean uses ; 
 that we do not abuse or debase his authority, by citing it to 
 aver falsehoods or impertinences; that we do not slight his 
 venerable justice, by rashly provoking it against us; that we 
 do not precipitantly throw our souls into most dangerous snares 
 and intricacies. 
 
 For, let us reflect and consider : what a presumption is it 
 without due regard and reverence to lay hold on God's name ; 
 with unhallowed breath to vent and toss that great and glo- 
 
 * Plurima Urmantur juiojurando diis unniortalibus interposi- 
 
 tis turn judioiljus, turn tcstibus. — Cic. dc Leg. ii. p. 32(5. 
 
 t Num. XXX. 2. Uus upKos us Kardpav reAeuTo T^y iwiopKias- — Plul. m 
 Capit. Kom. p. 491.
 
 380 BARROW, — SERMON XV. 
 
 rious, that most holy, that reverend, that fearful and ter- 
 rible name of the Lord our God, the great Creator, the 
 mighty Sovereign, the dreadful Judge of all the world ; that 
 name which all heaven with profoundest submission doth adore, 
 which the angelical powers, the brightest and purest seraphim, 
 without ' hiding their faces,' and reverential horror, cannot 
 utter or hear ; the very thought whereof should strike awe 
 through our hearts, the mention whereof would make any sober 
 man to tremble : TrJis yhpovK aroTrov,' for how,' saith St. Chry- 
 sostom,* ' is it not absurd that a servant should not dare to call 
 his master by name, or bluntly and ordinarily to mention him ; 
 yet that we slightly and contemptuously should in our mouth 
 toss about the Lord of angels ?' 
 
 ' How is it not absurd, if we have a garment -better than the 
 rest, that we forbear to use it continually; but in the most slight 
 and common way do wear the name of God ?' 
 
 How grievous indecency is it, at every turn to summon our 
 Maker, and call down Almighty God from heaven to attend 
 our leisure, to vouch our idle prattle, to second our giddy pas- 
 sions, to concern his truth, his justice, his power in our trivial 
 affairs ? 
 
 What a wildness is it to dally with that judgment on which 
 the eternal doom of all creatures dependeth, at which ' the pil- 
 lars of heaven are astonished,' which hurled down legions of 
 angels from the top of heaven and happiness into the bottomless 
 dungeon ; the which, as grievous sinners, of all things we have 
 most reason to dread ; and about which no sober man can other- 
 wise think than did that great king, the holy psalmist, who 
 said, ' My flesh trembleth for thee, and I am afraid of thy 
 judgments V 
 
 How prodigious a madness is it, without any constraint or 
 needful cause to incur so horrible danger, to rush on a curse ; 
 to defy that vengeance, the least touch or breath whereof can 
 dash us to nothing, or thrust us down into extreme and endless 
 woe? 
 
 Who can express the wTetchedness of that folly which so en- 
 tangleth us with inextricable knots, and inchaineth our souls 
 so rashly with desperate obligations ? 
 
 * Chrys. 'Av^p. f- p. 514.
 
 AGAINST RASH AND VAIN SWEARING. 381 
 
 Wherefore he that would but a little mind what he doeth 
 when he dareth to swear, what it is to meddle with the adora- 
 ble name, the venerable testimony, the formidable judgment, 
 the terrible vengeance of the divine Majesty, into what a case 
 he putteth himself, how extreme hazard he runneth thereby, 
 v/ould assuredly have little heart to swear, without greatest 
 reason and most urgent need : hardly without trembling would 
 he undertake the most necessary and solemn oath ; much cause 
 would he see aiiDeadai opKov, to adore, to fear an oath : which 
 to do the divine preacher maketh the character of a good man ; 
 ' As,' saith he, ' is the good, so is the sinner, and he that 
 sweareth, as he that feareth an oath.' 
 
 In fine, even a heathen philosopher, considering the nature of 
 an oath, did ponclude the unlawfulness thereof in such cases. 
 For, ' seeing,' saith he, ' an oath doth call God for witness, and 
 proposeth him for umpire and voucher of the things it saith ; 
 therefore to induce God so on occasion of human affairs, or, 
 which is all one, on small and slight accounts, doth imply con- 
 tempt of him : wherefore we ought wholly to shun swearing, ex- 
 cept on occasions of highest necessity.'* 
 
 II. We may consider that swearing (agreeably to its nature, 
 or natural aptitude and tendency) is represented in holy Scrip- 
 ture as a special part of religious worship, or devotion toward 
 God ; in the due performance whereof we do avow him for the 
 true God and Governor of the world : we piously doacknowlege 
 his principal attributes and special prerogatives ; (his omnipre- 
 sence and omniscience, extending itself to our 'most inward 
 thoughts, our secretest purposes, our closest retirements; his 
 watchful providence over all our actions, affairs, and concerns ; 
 his faithful goodness in favoring truth and protecting right; his 
 exact justice, in patronising sincerity, and chastising perfidi- 
 ousness ;) his being supreme Lord over all persons, and .ludge 
 paramount in all causes; his readiness in our need, on our hum- 
 ble imploration and reference, to undertake the arbitration of 
 matters controverted, and the care of administering justice, for 
 
 * 'O yhp opKos (liprvpa rhv Qdv Ka\f7, Ka\ ixfah-qv avrov Ka\ iyyvtjT^v i<(> 
 oTs Aiyti ■nprnrrxeTai. t6 '/ovu lA avBpa'ir'a'ois Trpdynairi (ravrhv St fiVf?!/ fitKpott 
 Kal eureAe(n) rhv Q(hv irapdyftv, KaTa<pp6vT]aiv riva vphs avrhv vnoypatpfr 5ii 
 Xp^ trapantMOai rhv opKov, Ikc. — Simjil. in Kpid. Ciip. xliv.
 
 382 BARROW.— SERMON XV. 
 
 the maintenance of truth and right, of loyalty and fidelity, 
 of order and peace among men. Swearing doth also intimate a 
 pious trust and confidence in God ; as Aristotle observeth.» 
 
 Such things a serious oath doth imply, to such purposes 
 swearing naturally serveth ; and therefore to signify or effec- 
 tuate them, divine institution hath devoted it. 
 
 God in goodness to such ends hath pleased to lend us his 
 great name ; allowing us to cite him for a witness, to have 
 recourse to his bar, to engage his justice and power, whenever 
 the case deserveth and requireth it, or when we cannot by other 
 means well assure the sincerity of our meaning, or secure the 
 constancy of our resolutions. 
 
 Yea in such exigencies he doth exact this practice from us, 
 as an instance of our religious confidence in him, and as a 
 service conducible to his glory : for it is a precept in his law, 
 of moral nature, and eternal obligation, ' Thou shalt fear the 
 Lord thy God ; him shalt thou serve, and to him shalt thou 
 cleave, and shalt swear by his name.' It is the character of a 
 religious man to swear with due reverence and upright con- 
 science. For, * the king,' saith the psalmist, ' shall rejoice in 
 God ; every one that sweareth by him shall glory ; but the 
 mouth of them that speak lies shall be stopped.' It is a dis- 
 tinctive mark of God's people, according to that of the prophet 
 Jeremy, ' And it shall come to pass, if they will diligently learn 
 the ways of my people, to swear by my name — then shall they 
 be built in the midst of my people.' It is predicted concerning 
 the evangelical times, ' Unto me every knee shall bow, every 
 tongue shall swear ;' and, ' that he who blesseth himself in the 
 earth, shall bless himself by the God of truth ; and he that 
 sweareth in the earth, shall swear by the God of truth.' 
 
 As therefore a,ll other acts of devotion, wherein immediate 
 application is made to the Divine Majesty should never be 
 })erformed without most hearty intention, most serious consi- 
 deration, most lowly reverence ; so neither should this grand 
 one, wherein God is so nearly touched, and his chief attributes 
 so much concerned : the which indeed doth involve both prayer 
 
 * /Emefies rh 64\€iv ro7s 6eo7s iiTirpeireiv. It is a pious tiling willingly 
 to commend our case or controversy to God. — Arist. Rhet. i. 48.
 
 AGAINST RASH AND VAIN SWEARING. 383 
 
 and praise, doth require the most devotional acts of faith and 
 fear. 
 
 We therefore should so perform it as not to incur that re- 
 proof : ' This people draweth nigh unto me with their mouth, 
 and honoreth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me.' 
 
 When we seem most formally to avow God, to confess his 
 omniscience, to confide in his justice, we should not really dis- 
 regard him, and in effect signify that we do not think he doth 
 know what we say, or mind what we do. 
 
 If we do presume to offer this service, we should do it in the 
 manner appointed by himself, according to the conditions pre- 
 scribed in the prophet, 'Thou shalt swear, the Lord liveth, in 
 truth, in judgment and in righteousness :' * in truth,' taking heed 
 that our meaning be conformable to the sense of our words, and 
 our words to the verity of things ; ' in judgment,' having with 
 careful deliberation examined and weighed that which we 
 assert or promise ; ' in righteousness,' being satisfied in con- 
 science, that we do not therein infringe any rule of piety 
 toward God, of equity toward men, of sobriety and discretion 
 in regard to ourselves. 
 
 The cause of our swearing must be needful, or very expedi- 
 ent ; the design of it must be honest and useful to considerable 
 purposes; (tending to God's honor, our neighbor's benefit, 
 our own welfare;) the matter of it should be not only just 
 and lawful, but worthy and weighty ; the manner ought to be 
 grave and solemn, our mind being framed to earnest attention, 
 and endued with pious affections suitable to the occasion. 
 
 Otherwise, if we do venture to swear, without due advice 
 and care, without much respect and awe, on any slight or vaui 
 (not to say bad or unlawful) occasion ; we then desecrate 
 swearing, and are guilty of profaning a most sacred ordinance : 
 the doing so doth imply base hypocrisy, or lewd mockery, 
 or abominable wantonness and folly : in boldly invading, 
 and vainly trifling with the most august duties of religion. 
 Such swearing therefore is very dishonorable and injurious 
 to God, very prejudicial to religion, very repugnant to piety. 
 
 III. We may consider that the swearing prohibited is very 
 noxious to human society. 
 
 The great prop of society (which upholdetb the safety, peace.
 
 384 BARROW. — SERMON XV. 
 
 and welfare thereof, in observing laws, dispensing justice, dis- 
 charging trusts, keeping contracts, and holding good corres- 
 pondence mutually) is conscience, or a sense of duty toward 
 God, obliging to perform what is right and equal; quickened 
 by hope of rewards, and fear of punishments from him : se- 
 cluding which principle, . no worldly consideration is strong 
 enough to hold men fast; or can farther dispose many to do 
 right, or observe faith, or hold peace, than appetite, or in- 
 terest, or humor (things very slippery and uncertain) do sway 
 them. 
 
 That men should live honestly, quietly, and comfortably 
 together, it is needful that they should live under a sense 
 of God's will, and in awe of the divine power, hoping to 
 please God, and fearing to offend him, by their behavior re- 
 spectively. 
 
 That justice should be administered between men, it is ne- 
 cessary that testimonies of fact be alleged; and that witnesses 
 should apprehend themselves greatly obliged to discover the 
 truth, according to their conscience, in dark and doubting cases. 
 
 That men should uprightly discharge offices serviceable to 
 public good, it doth behove that they be firmly engaged to 
 perform the trusts reposed in them. 
 
 That in affairs of very considerable importance, men should 
 deal with one another with satisfaction of mind and mutual 
 confidence, they must receive competent assurances concerning 
 the integrity, fidelity, and constancy each of other. 
 
 That the safety of governors may be preserved, and the 
 obedience due to them maintained secure from attempts to 
 which they are liable, (by the treachery, levity, perverseness, 
 timorousness, ambition, all such lusts and ill humors of men,) 
 it is expedient that men should be tied with the strictest bands 
 of allegiance. 
 
 That controversies emergent about the interests of men should 
 be determined, and an end put to strife by peremptory and 
 satisfactory means, is plainly necessary for common quiet. 
 
 Wherefore for the public interest and benefit of human 
 society, it is requisite that the highest obligations possible 
 should be laid on the consciences of men. 
 
 And such are those of oaths, enffas:ing them to fidelity and
 
 AGAINST RASH AND VAIN SWEARING. 385 
 
 constancy in all such cases, out of regard to Almighty God, as 
 the infiillible patron of truth and right, the unavoidable chas- 
 tiser of perfidiousness and improbity. 
 
 To such purposes therefore oaths have ever been applied, 
 as the most etlectual instruments of working them ; not only 
 among the followers of true and perfect religion, but even 
 among all those who had any glimmering notions concerning a 
 divine power and providence ; who have deemed an oath the 
 fastest tie of conscience, and held the violation of it for the 
 most detestable impiety and iniquity. So that what Cicero 
 saith of the Romans, that ' their ancestors had no band to 
 constrain faith more strait than an oath,'* is true of all other 
 nations; common reason not being able to devise any engage- 
 ment more obliging than it ; it being in the nature of things 
 TeXevTuia nitTTis, and oj^upwraroj' uXrjdeias kv€-)^ypov, the utmost 
 assurance, the last resort of human faith, the surest pledge that 
 any man can yield of his trustiness. Hence ever in transactions 
 of highest moment this hath been used to bind the faith of men. 
 Hereby nations have been wont to ratify leagues of peace 
 and amity between each other : (which therefore the Greeks 
 called opKia.) 
 
 Hereby princes have obliged their subjects to loyalty : and 
 it hath ever been the strongest argument to press that duty, 
 which the preacher useth; ' I counsel thee to keep the king's 
 commandment, and that in regard of the oath of God.' 
 
 Hereby generals have engaged their soldiers to stick close to 
 them, in bearing hardships and encountering dangers. 
 
 Hereby the nuptial league hath been confirmed ; the solem- 
 nization whereof in temples before God is in effect a most 
 sacred oath. 
 
 Hereon the decision of the greatest causes concerning the 
 lives, estates, and reputations of men have depended ; so tliaf, 
 as the Apostle saith, * an oath for confirmation is to them an 
 end of all strife.' 
 
 Indeed such hath the need hereof been ever apprehended, 
 that we may observe, in cases of great importance, no other 
 
 * Nullum enim vincuhim ad adstringendam fidcm juri'jiirando 
 majorcs arclius esse volueruiit.— Cic. dc (jtf. ill. 
 
 BAR. VOL. 1. R
 
 386 BARROW. — SERMON XV. 
 
 obligation hath been admitted for sufficient to bind the fide-' 
 lity and constancy of the most credible persons ; so that even 
 the best men hardly could trust the best men without it. For 
 instance, 
 
 When Abimelech would assure to himself the friendship of 
 Abraham, although he knew him to be a very pious and 
 riohteous person, whose word might be as well taken as any 
 man's, yet, for intire satisfaction, he thus spake to him : ' God 
 is with thee in all that thou doest : now therefore swear unto 
 me here by God, that thou wilt not deal falsely with me.' 
 
 Abraham, though he did much confide in the honesty of his 
 servant Eliezer, having intrusted him with all his estate, yet 
 in the affair concerning the marriage of his son, he could not 
 but thus oblige him : ' Put,' saith he, ' I pray thee, thy hand 
 under my thigh ; and I will make thee swear by the Lord, the 
 God of heaven, and the God of the earth, that thou wilt not 
 take a wife unto my son of the daughters of the Canaanites.' 
 
 Laban had good experience of Jacob's fidelity; yet that 
 would not satisfy, but, ' the Lord,' said he, ' watch between me 
 and thee, when we are absent one from another. Tf thou shalt 
 afflict my daughters, or if thou shalt take other wives beside 
 my daughters, no man is with us; see, God is witness between 
 thee and me. The God of Abraham, and the God of Nahor, 
 the God of their father, judge betwixt us.' 
 
 So did Jacob make Joseph swear, that he would ' bury 
 him in Canaan :' and Joseph caused the children of Israel 
 to swear, that they would ' translate his bones.' So did 
 Jonathan cause his beloved friend David to swear, that he 
 would 'show kindness to him, and to his house for ever.' 
 The prudence of which course the event showeth, the total 
 excision of Jonathan's family being thereby prevented ; for, 
 ' the king,' it is said, ' spared Mephibosheth the son of Jona- 
 than, because of the Lord's oath that was between them,' 
 
 These instances declare that there is no security which men 
 can yield comparable to that of an oath ; the obligation whereof 
 no man wilfully can infringe, without renouncing the fear of 
 God, and any pretence to his favor. 
 
 Wherefore human society will be extremely wronged and 
 damnified by the dissolving or slackening these most sacred
 
 AGAINST RASH AND VAIN SWEARING. 387 
 
 bands of conscience, and consequently by their common and 
 careless use ; which soon will breed a contempt of them, and 
 render them insignificant, either to bind the swearers, or to 
 ground a trust on their oaths. 
 
 As by the rare and reverent use of oaths their dignity is up- 
 held, and their obligation kept fast : so by the frequent and 
 negligent application of them, by the prostituting them to every 
 mean and toyish purpose, their respect will be quite lost, their 
 strength will be loosed, they will prove unserviceable to 
 public use. 
 
 If oaths generally become cheap and vile, what will that of 
 allegiance signify ? If men are wont to play with swearing 
 anywhere, can we expect they should be serious and strict 
 therein at the bar, or in the church? Will they regard God's 
 testimony, or dread his judgment, in one place, or at one time, 
 when every where on any, on no occasion they dare to confront 
 and contemn them ? Who then will be the more trusted for 
 swearing ? What satisfaction will any man have from it ? 
 The rifeness of this practice, as it is the sign, so it will be the 
 cause of a general diffidence among men. 
 
 Incredible therefore is the mischief which this vain practice 
 will bring in to the public ; depriving princes of their best 
 security, exposing the estates of private men to uncertainty, 
 shaking all the confidence men can have in the faith of one 
 another. 
 
 For which detriments accruing from this abuse to the public, 
 every vain swearer is responsible ; and he would do well to 
 consider that he will never be able to make reparation for 
 them. And the public is much concerned that this enormity 
 be retrenched. 
 
 IV. Let us consider that rash and vain swearing is very 
 apt often to bring the practiser of it into that most horrible sin 
 of perjury. For ' false swearing,' as the Hebrew wise man 
 saith, ' naturally springeth out of much swearing;'* and ' he,' 
 saith St. Chrysostom, ' that sweareth continually, both 
 willingly and unwillingly^ both ignorantly and knowingly, 
 
 * iiijai iK iToXvopKias ^evSopKia. — Pliilo in Dccal. 
 t 'O Sivftus oixvvs, &c. — Clirys. 'AvSp. i5'. p. 553. 
 M^ ds viriKpiaiv ireairn, quidam legunt, Jac. V. 12. Vid. Grot.
 
 388 BARROW. — SERMON XV. 
 
 both in earnest and in sport, being often transported by anger 
 and many other things, will frequently forswear. It is con- 
 fessed and manifest, that it is necessary for him that sweareth 
 much, to be perjurious.' ^ k^i]-)(avov yap, afii]yavov, ' For,' 
 saith he again, ' it is impossible, it is impossible for a mouth 
 addicted to swearing, not frequently to forswear.' He that 
 sweareth at random, as blind passion moveth, or wanton fancy 
 prompteth, or the tempter suggesteth, often will hit on asserting 
 that which is false, or promising that which is impossible : that 
 want of conscience and of consideration which do suffer him to 
 violate God's law in swearing, will betray him to the venting of 
 lies, which backed with oaths become perjuries. If sometime 
 what he sweareth doth happen to be true and performable, it 
 doth not free him of guilt; it being his fortune, rather than his 
 care or conscience, which keepeth him from perjury. 
 
 V. Such swearing commonly will induce a man to bind 
 himself by oath to unlawful practices ; and consequently will 
 entangle him in a woful necessity, either of breaking his oath, 
 or of doing worse, and committing wickedness : so that ' swear- 
 iug,' as St. Chrysostom saith, * hath this misery attending it, 
 that both transgTessed and observed it plagueth those who are 
 guilty of it.'* 
 
 Of this perplexity the holy Scripture att'ordeth two notable 
 ittstances : the one of Saul, forced to break his rash oaths ; the 
 other of Herod, being engaged thereby to commit a most horrid 
 murder. 
 
 Had Saul observed his oaths, what injury had he done, what 
 mischief had he produced, in slaughtering his most worthy and 
 most innocent son, the prop and glory of his family, the 
 bulwark of his country, and the grand instrument of salvation 
 to it ; in forcing the people to violate their cross oath, and 
 for prevention of one, causing many perjuries ? He was 
 therefore fain to desist, and lie under the guilt of breaking his 
 oaths. 
 
 And for Herod, the excellent father thus presseth the consi- 
 deration of his case : ' Take,' saith he, ' I beseech you, the 
 chopped-ofF head of St. John, and his warm blood yet trickling 
 
 * ToOto rb Seiphv Ix*' ^ dpi^os, ori Ka\ Trapa^aivdtJLtvos Koi ipv\aTT6ixfvoi ko- 
 Ka^n Tolis aXiCKonepovs. — Clirys. 'AvZp- iB', |). 653.
 
 AGAINST RASH AND VAIN SWEARING. 389 
 
 down ; each of you bear it home with you, and conceive that 
 before your eyes you hear it uttering speech, and saying. 
 Embrace the murderer of me, an oath. That which reproof 
 did not, this an oath did do ; that which the tyrant's wrath could 
 iK)t, this the necessity of keeping an oath did effect. For when 
 the tyrant was reprehended publicly in the audience of all men, 
 he bravely did bear the rebuke ; but when he had cast himself 
 into the necessity of oaths, then did he cut off that blessed 
 head.'* 
 
 VI. Likewise the use of rash swearing will often engage a 
 man in undertakings very inconvenient and detrimental to him- 
 self. A man is bound to ' perform his vows to the Lord,' 
 whatever they be, whatever damage or trouble thence may accrue 
 to him, if they be not unlawful. It is the law, ' that which is 
 gone out of thy lips, thou shalt keep and perform.' It is the 
 property of a good man, that ' he sweareth to his own hurt, and 
 changeth not.' Wherefore it is the part of a sober man, to be 
 well advised what he doth swear or vow religiously ; that he do 
 not put himself into the inextricable strait of committing great 
 sin, or undergoing great inconvenience ; that he do not rush 
 into that snare of which the wise man speaketh, ' It is a snare 
 to a man to devour that which is holy, (or to swallow a sacred 
 obligation,) and after vows to make inquiry, 'f seeking how he 
 may disengage himself : the doing which is a folly offensive to 
 God, as the preacher telleth us : ' When,' saith he, ' thou 
 vowest a vow unto God, defer not to pay it ; for he hath no 
 pleasure in fools : pay that which thou hast vowed.' God will 
 not admit our folly in vowing, as a plea or an excuse for non- 
 performance ; he will exact it from us both as a due debt, and 
 as a proper punishment of our impious folly. 
 
 For instance, into what loss and misciiief, what sorrow, wliaf. 
 regret and repentance, did tlie unadvised vow of Jephtha throw 
 him ? the performance whereof, as St. Chrysostom ren\arketh, 
 God did permit, and order to be commemorated with solemn 
 lamentation, that all posterity might be admonished thereby, 
 and deterred from such precipitant swearing. 
 
 * riopa/caAcD uftas tV Ke<pa\i}u 'Iwdvvnv Ao;3oWoy — . 'A>'5p. 18'. p. 552. 
 + "Clairep nvl irayl^i KarexifJ-^voi, Ka.1 Setr/xoTs aKvTois auvo(Stix4voi, cicc. — 
 Chrjs. 'AvSp. J".
 
 390 BARROW. — SERMON XV. 
 
 VII. Let us consider that swearing is a sin of all others 
 peculiarly clamorous, and provocative of divine judgment. 
 God is hardly so much concerned, or in a manner constrained, 
 to punish any other sin as this. He is bound in honor and 
 interest to vindicate his name from the abuse, his authority 
 from the contempt, his holy ordinance from the profanation, 
 which it doth infer. He is concerned to take care that his 
 providence be not questioned, that the dread of his majesty be 
 not voided, that all religion be not overthrown by the outra- 
 geous commission thereof with impunity. 
 
 It immediately toucheth his name, it expressly calleth on 
 him to mind it, to judge it, to show himself in avenging it. 
 He may seem deaf or unconcerned, if, being so called and 
 provoked, he doth not declare himself. 
 
 There is understood to be a kind of formal compact between 
 him and mankind, obliging him to interpose, to take the 
 matter into his cognisance, being specially addressed to him. 
 
 The bold swearer doth importune him to hear, doth rouse 
 him to mark, doth brave him to judge and punish his wicked- 
 ness. 
 
 Hence no wonder that ' the flying roll,' a quick and inevi- 
 table curse, doth surprise the swearer, and • cut him off,' 
 as it is in the prophet. No wonder that so many remarkable 
 instances do occur in history, of signal vengeance inflicted on 
 persons notably guilty of this crime. No wonder that a com- 
 mon practice thereof doth fetch down public judgments; and 
 that, as the prophets of old did proclaim, ' because of swearing 
 the land raourneth.' 
 
 VIII. Farther, (passing over the special laws against it, the 
 mischievous consequences of it, the sore punishments appointed 
 to it,) we may consider that to common sense vain swearing is 
 a very unreasonable and ill-favored practice, greatly misbe- 
 coming any sober, worthy, or honest person ; but especially 
 most absurd and incongruous to a Christian. 
 
 For in ordinary conversation what needful or reasonable oc- 
 casion can intervene of violating this command ? If there come 
 under discourse a matter of reason, which is evidently true and 
 certain, then what need can there be of an oath to affirm it, it 
 suflicing to expose it to light, or to propose the evidences for it?
 
 AGAINST RASH AND VAIN SWEARING. 391 
 
 If an obscure or doubtful point come to be debated, it will not 
 bear an oatli ; it will be a strange madness to dare, a great 
 folly to hope the persuading it thereby. What were more ridi- 
 culous than to swear the truth of a demonstrable theorem? What 
 more vain than so to assert a disputable problem ? Oaths, like 
 wagers, are in such cases no arguments, except of silliness in 
 the users of them. 
 
 If a matter of history be started, then if a man be taken for 
 honest, his word will pass for attestation without farther assu- 
 rance : but if his veracity or probity be doubted, his oath will 
 not be relied on, especially when he doth obtrude it. For it 
 was no less truly than acutely said by the old poet, Ovk liybpos 
 ofiKoi nianSf dW opKuf aiifp, ' The man doth not get credit from 
 an oath, but an oath from the man :' and a greater author, 
 ' An oath,' saith St. Chrysostom,* ' doth not make a man cre- 
 dible ; but the testimony of his life, and the exactness of his 
 conversation, and a good repute. Many often have burst with 
 swearing, and persuaded no man : others only nodding have 
 deserved more belief than those who have swore so mightily.' 
 Wherefore oaths, as they are frivolous coming from a person of 
 little worth or conscience, so they are superfluous in the mouth 
 of an honest and worthy person ; yea, as they do not in- 
 crease the credit of the former, so they may impair that of the 
 latter. 
 
 ' A good man,' as Socrates did say, ' should apparently so 
 demean himself, that his word may be deemed more credible 
 than an oath ;' the constant tenor of his practice vouching for 
 it, and giving it such weight, that no asseveration can far- 
 ther corroborate it. 
 
 • He should To'is epyois eiiopne'ii', ' swear by his good deeds,' 
 and exhibit fiiov alumiarov, ' a life deserving belief,' as Clemens 
 Alexandrinus saith tf so that no man should desire more from 
 him than his bare assertion ; but willingly should yield him 
 the privilege which the Athenians granted to Xenocrates, that 
 he should testify without swearing. 
 
 He should be like the Essenes, of whom Josephus saith, 
 
 * Clirys. 'AvSp. ^. p. 014. 
 
 t Clcni. Alex. Strom, vii. p. 624.
 
 392 BARROW. — SERMON XV. 
 
 that every thing spoken by them was more valid than an oath ; 
 whence they declined swearing. 
 
 He should so much confide in his own veracity and fidelitv, 
 and so much stand on them, that he should not deign to otter 
 any pledge for them, implying them to want confirmation. 
 
 He should, as St. Hierome saith, 'so love truth, that he 
 should suppose himself to have sworn whatsoever he hath said ;' 
 and therefore should not be apt to heap another oath on his 
 words. 
 
 On such accounts common reason directed even Pagan wise 
 men wholly to interdict swearing in ordinary conversation, or 
 about petty matters, as an irrational and immoral practice, un- 
 worthy of sober and discreet persons. ' Forbear swearing about 
 any matter,' said Plato, cited by Clem. Alex. ' Avoid swear- 
 ing if you can, wholly,' said Epictetus. ' For money swear by 
 no god, though you swear truly,' said Isocrates. And divers 
 the like precepts occur in other heathens ; the mention whereof 
 may well serve to strike shame into many loose and vain peo- 
 ple, bearing the name of Christians. 
 
 Indeed, for a true and real Christian, this practice doth espe- 
 cially in a far higher degree misbecome him, on considerations 
 peculiar to his high calling and holy profession. 
 
 Plutarch telleth us that among the Romans the Flamen of 
 Jupiter was not permitted to swear : of which law among other 
 reasons he assigneth this ; ' Because it is not handsome, that 
 he, to whom divine and greatest things are intrusted, should 
 de distrusted about small matters.' The which reason may well 
 be applied to excuse every Christian from it, who is a priest to 
 the Most High God, and hath the most celestial and impor- 
 tant matters concredited to him ; in comparison to which all 
 other matters are very mean and inconsiderable. The dignity 
 of his rank should render his word verbum honoris, passable 
 \vithout any farther engagement. He hath opinions of things, 
 he hath undertaken practices inconsistent with swearing. For 
 he that firmly doth believe that God is ever present with him, 
 an auditor and witness of all his discourse ; he that is per- 
 suaded that a severe judgment shall pass on him, wherein he 
 must ' give an account for every idle word' which slippeth from 
 him, and wherein, among other oftenders, assuredly liars will
 
 AGAINST RASH AND VAIN SWEARING. 393 
 
 be condemned to the burning lake ; he that in a great sacra- 
 ment (once most solemnly taken, and frequently renewed) hath 
 engaged and sworn, together with all other divine command- 
 ments, to observe those which most expressly do charge him 
 to be exactly just, faithful, and veracious in all his words and 
 deeds; who therefore should be ready to say with David, ' I 
 have sworn, and am steadfastly purposed to keep thy righteous 
 judgments ;' to him every word hath the force of an oath ; 
 every lie, every breach of promise, every violation of faith doth 
 involve perjury : for him to swear is false heraldry, an imperti- 
 nent accumulation of one oath on another: he of all men should 
 disdain to allow that his words are not perfectly credible, that 
 his promise is not secure, without being assured by an oath. 
 
 IX. Indeed the practice of swearing greatly disparageth 
 him that useth it, and derogateth from his credit on divers ac- 
 counts. 
 
 It signifieth, (if it signifieth any thing,) that he doth not con- 
 fide in his own reputation, and judgeth his own bare word not 
 to deserve credit : for why, if he taketh his word to be good, 
 doth he back it with asseverations ? why, if he deemcth his 
 own honesty to bear proof, doth he cite heaven to warrant it ? 
 
 ' It is,' saith St. Basil, ' a very foul and silly thing for a 
 man to accuse himself as unworthy of belief, and to proffer an 
 oath for security.' 
 
 By so doing a man doth authorise others to distrust him : 
 for it can be no wrong to distrust him, who doth not pretend 
 to be a credible person, or that his saying alone may safely 
 be taken ; who, by suspecting that others are not satisfied 
 with his simple assertion, implieth a reason known to himself 
 for it. 
 
 It rendereth whatever he saith to be in reason suspicious, as 
 discovering him void of conscience and discretion : for he that 
 fiatly against the rules of duty and reason will swear vainly, 
 what can engage him to speak truly ? He that is so loose in so 
 clear and so considerable a point of obedience to (Jod, how 
 can he be supposed staunch in regard to any other ? ' It being,' 
 as Aristotle hath it, ' the part of the same men to do ill things, 
 and not to regard forswearing.' It will at least constrain any 
 man to suspect all his discourse of vanity and unadvisedness,
 
 394 BARROW. — SERMON XV. 
 
 seeing he plainly hath no care to bridle his tongue from so gross 
 an offence. 
 
 It is strange therefore that any man of honor or honesty 
 should not scorn, by such a practice, to shake his own credit, 
 or to detract from the validity of his word ; which should 
 stand firm on itself, and not want any attestation to support it. 
 It is a privilege of honorable persons, that they are excused 
 from swearing, and that their verbum honoris passeth in lieu 
 of an oath : is it not then strange that when others dispense 
 with them, they should not dispense with themselves ; but vo- 
 luntarily degrade themselves, and with sin forfeit so noble a pri- 
 vilege ? 
 
 X. To excuse these faults, the swearer will be forced to con- 
 fess that his oaths are no more than waste and insignificant 
 Avords ; deprecating being taken for serious, or to be understood 
 that he meaneth any thing by them ; but only that he useth 
 them as expletive phrases, Trpos avairXi'jpwffiyXoyov, to plump his 
 speech, and fill up sentences. But such pleas do no more than 
 suggest other faults of swearing, and good arguments against 
 it; its impertinence, its abuse of speech, its disgracing the prac- 
 tiser of it in point of judgment and capacity. For so it is, oaths 
 as they commonly pass are mere excrescences of speech, which 
 do nothing but incumber and deform it; they so embellish dis- 
 course, as a wen or a scab do beautify a face, as a patch or a 
 spot do adorn a garment. 
 
 To what purpose, I pray, is God's name hooked and haled 
 into our idle talk ? why should we so often mention him, when 
 we do not mean any thing about him ? would it not, into every 
 sentence to foist a dog or a horse, (to intrude Turkish, or 
 any barbarous gibberish,) be altogether as proper and per- 
 tinent ? 
 
 What do these superfluities signify, but that the venter of 
 them doth little skill the use of speech, or the rule of conversa- 
 tion, but meaueth to sputter and prate any thing without judg- 
 ment or wit ; that his invention is very barren, his fancy beg- 
 garly, craving the aid of any stuff to relieve it? One would 
 think a man of sense should grutch to lend his ear, or incline 
 his attention to such motley ragged discourse ; that without 
 nauseating he scarce should indure to observe men lavishing
 
 AGAINST RASH AND VAIN SWEARING. 395 
 
 time, and squandering their breath so frivolously. It is an af- 
 front to good company to pester it with such talk. 
 
 XI. But farther, on higher accounts this is a very uncivil 
 and unmannerly practice. 
 
 Some vain persons take it for a genteel and graceful thing, 
 a special accomplishment, a mark of fine breeding, a point of 
 high gallantry : for who, forsooth, is the brave spark, the com- 
 plete gentleman, the man of conversation and address, but he 
 that hath the skill and confidence (O heavens ! how mean a 
 skill ! how, mad a confidence !) to lard every sentence with an 
 oath or a curse ; making bold at every turn to salute his Maker, 
 or to summon him in attestation of his tattle ; not to say, calling 
 and challenging the Almighty to damn and destroy him ? Such 
 a conceit, I say, too many have of swearing, because a custom 
 thereof, together with divers other fond and base qualities, hath 
 prevailed among some people bearing the name and garb of gen- 
 tlemen. 
 
 But in truth there is no practice more crossing the genuine 
 nature of genteelness, or misbecoming persons well born and 
 well bred ; who siiould excel the rude vulgar in goodness, in 
 courtesy, in nobleness of heart, in unwillingness to oft'end, and 
 readiness to oblige those with whom they converse, in steady 
 composedness of mind and manners, in disdaining to say or do 
 any unworthy, any unhandsome things. 
 
 For this practice is not only a gross rudeness toward the main 
 body of men, who justly reverence the name of God, and detest 
 such an abuse thereof : not only, farther, an insolent defiance of 
 the common profession, the religion, the law of our country, 
 which disallovveth and condemneth it ; but it is very odious and 
 offensive to any particular society or company, at least wherein 
 there is any sober person, any who retaineth a sense of good- 
 ness, or is anywise concerned for God's honor ; for to any such 
 person no language can be more disgustful ; nothing can more 
 grate his ears, or fret his heart, than to hear the sovereign ob- 
 ject of his love and esteem so mocked and slighted ; to see the 
 law of his prince so disloyally infringed, so contemptuously 
 trampled on ; to find his best friend and benefactor so out- 
 rageously abused. To give him the lie were a complinienf,
 
 396 BARROW. — SERMON XV. 
 
 to spit in his face were an obligation, in comparison to this 
 usas^e. 
 
 Wherefore it is a wonder that any person of rank, any that 
 hath in him a spark of ingenuity, or doth at all pretend to good 
 manners, should find in his heart or deign to comply with so 
 scurvy a fashion ; a fashion much more befitting the scum of the 
 people than the flower of the gentry ; yea rather, much below 
 any men endued with a scrap of reason, or a grain of goodness. 
 Would we bethink ourselves, modest, sober, and pertinent dis- 
 course would appear far more generous and masculine, than 
 such mad hectoring the Almighty, such boisterous insulting 
 over the received laws and general notions of mankind, such 
 ruffianly swaggering against sobriety and goodness. If gentle- 
 men would regard the virtues of their ancestors, the founders of 
 their quality; that gallant courage, that solid wisdom, that 
 noble courtesy, which advanced their families, and severed 
 them from the vulgar ; this degenerate wantonness and sordid- 
 ness of language would return to the dunghill, or rather, which 
 God grant, be quite banished from the world ; the vulgar fol- 
 lowing their example. 
 
 XII. Farther, the words of our Lord, when he forbad this 
 practice, do suggest another consideration against it, deducible 
 from the causes and sources of it ; from whence it cometh that 
 men are so inclined or addicted thereto ; ' Let,' saith he, ' your 
 communication be, yea, yea ; nay, nay : for whatsoever is more 
 than these cometh of evil.' The roots of it he assureth us are 
 evil, and therefore the fruit cannot be good : it is no gTa|>e 
 which groweth from thorns, or fig from thistles. Consult ex- 
 perience, and observe whence it doth proceed. 
 
 Sometimes it ariseth from exorbitant heats of spirit, or trans- 
 ports of unbridled passion. When a man is keenly peevish, or 
 fiercely angry, or eagerly contentious, then he blustereth, and 
 dischargeth his choler in most tragical strains ; then he would 
 fright the objects of his displeasure by the most violent expres- 
 sions thereof. This is sometime alleged in excuse of rash swear- 
 ing; ' I was provoked ;' the swearer will say, ' I was in pas- 
 sion:' but it is strange that a bad cause should justify a bad 
 effect ; - that one crime shoidd warrant another ; that what 
 would spoil a good action should excuse a bad one.
 
 AGAINST RASH AND VAIN SWEARING. 397 
 
 Sometimes it proceeileth from arrogant conceit, and a tyran- 
 nical humor ; when a man fondly adraireth his own opinion, 
 and affecting to impose it on others, is thence moved to thwack 
 it on with lusty asseverations. 
 
 Sometimes it issueth from wantonness and levity of mind, 
 disposing a man to sport with any thing, how serious, how 
 grave, how sacred and venerable soever. 
 
 Sometimes its rise is from stupid inadvertency, or heady pre- 
 cipitancy ; when the man doth not heed what he saith, or con- 
 sider the nature and consequence of his words, but snatcheth 
 any expression which cometh next, or which his roving fancy 
 doth offer ; for want of that caution of the psalmist, ' I said, I 
 will take heed to my ways, that I sin not with my tongue : I 
 will keep ray mouth with a bridle, while the wicked is be- 
 fore me.' 
 
 Sometimes (alas! how often in this miserable age!) it doth 
 spring from profane boldness ; when men design to put affronts 
 on religion, and to display their scorn and spite against con- 
 science ; affecting the reputation of stout blades, of gallant 
 hectors, of resolute giants, who dare do any thing, who 
 are not afraid to defy Heaven^ and brave God Almighty him- 
 self. 
 
 Sometimes it is derived from apish imitation, or a humor to 
 comply with a fashion current among vain and dissolute per- 
 sons. 
 
 It always doth come from a great defect of conscience, of 
 reverence to God, of love to goodness, of discretion and sober 
 regard to the welfare of a man's soul. 
 
 From such evidently vicious and unworthy sources it pro- 
 ceedeth, and therefore must needs be very culpal)le. No good, 
 no wise man can like actions drawn from such principles. 
 Farther, 
 
 XIII. This offence may be particularly aggravated by con- 
 sidering that it hath no strong temptation alluring to it; thnt 
 it yieldeth no sensible advantage ; that it most easily may b(! 
 avoided or corrected. 
 
 ' Every sin,' saith St. Chrysostom, ' hath not llic s:inic 
 punishment; but those things which may easily be n rDrnicd 
 do bring on us greater punishment :' and what c;im be more
 
 398 BARROW. — SERMON XV. 
 
 easy than to reform this fault? ' Tell me,' saith he, * what 
 difficulty, what sweat, what art, what hazard, what more doth 
 it require, beside a little care,' to abstain wholly from it ? It 
 is but willing, or resolving on it, and it is instantly done : for 
 there is not any natural inclination disposing to it, any strong 
 appetite to detain us under its power. 
 
 It gratifieth no sense, it yieldeth no profit, it procureth no 
 honor ; for the sound of it is not very melodious, and no man 
 surely did ever get an estate by it, or was preferred to dignity 
 for it. It rather to any good ear maketh a horrid and jarring 
 noise ; it rather with the best part of the world produceth dis- 
 pleasure, damage, and disgrace. What therefore beside mon- 
 strous vanity, and unaccountable perverseness, should hold 
 men so devoted thereto ? 
 
 Surely of all dealers in sin the swearer is palpably the sil- 
 liest, and maketh the worst bargains for himself ; for he sin- 
 Beth gratis, and, like those in the prophet, ' selleth his soul 
 for nothing.' An epicure hath some reason to allege, an ex- 
 tortioner is a man of wisdom, and acteth prudently in compa- 
 rison to him ; for they enjoy some pleasure, or acquire some 
 gain here, in lieu of their salvation hereafter : but this fondling 
 ofFendeth Heaven, and abandoneth happiness, he knoweth not 
 why or for what. He hath not so much as the common plea 
 of human infirmity to excuse him ; he can hardly say that he 
 was tempted thereto by any bait. 
 
 A fantastic humor possesseth him of spurning at piety and 
 soberness ; he inconsiderately followeth a herd of wild fops ; 
 he affecteth to play the ape. What more than tliis can he say 
 for himself? 
 
 XIV. Finally, let us consider that, as we ourselves, with 
 all our members and powers, were chiefly designed and framed 
 to glorify our Maker ; (the which to do is indeed the greatest 
 perfection and noblest privilege of our nature;) so our tongue 
 and speaking faculty were given to us to declare our admira- 
 tion and reverence of him, to exhibit our due love and gratitude 
 toward him, to profess our trust and confidence in him, to cele- 
 brate his praises, to avow his benefits, to address our supplica- 
 tions to him, to maintain all kinds of devotional intercourse with 
 him, to propagate our knowlege, fear, love, and obedience to
 
 AGAINST RASH AND VAIN SWEARING. 399 
 
 him, in all such ways to promote his honor and service. This 
 is the most proper, worthy, and due use of our tongue, for 
 which it was created, to which it is dedicated, from whence it 
 becometh, as it is so often styled, our glory, and the best mem 
 ber that we have ; that whereby we excel all creatures here 
 below, and whereby we are no less discriminated from them 
 than by our reason ; that whereby we consort with the blessed 
 angels above in the distinct utterance of praise, and communi- 
 cation of glory to our Creator. Wherefore applying this to 
 any impious discourse, with this to profane God's blessed name, 
 with this to violate his holy commands, with this to unhallow 
 his sacred ordinance, with this to offer dishonor and indignity 
 to him, is a most unnatural abuse, a horrid ingratitude toward 
 him. 
 
 It is that indeed whereby we render this noble organ inca- 
 pable of any good use. For how (as the excellent Father* doth 
 often urge) can we pray to God for mercies, or praise God for 
 his benefits, or heartily confess our sins, or cheerfully partake 
 of the holy mysteries, with a mouth defiled by impious oaths, 
 with a heart guilty of so heinous disobedience ? 
 
 Likewise, whereas a secondary, very worthy use of our 
 speech is, to promote the good of our neighbor, and especially 
 to edify him in piety, according to that wholesome precept of 
 the Apostle, ' Let no corrupt communication proceed out of 
 your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that 
 it may minister grace unto the hearers;' the practice of swear- 
 ing is an abuse very contrary to that good purpose, serving to 
 corrupt our neighbor, and to instil into him a contempt of reli- 
 gion ; or, however, grievously to scandalise him. 
 
 XV. I shall add but two words more. One is, that we 
 would seriously consider that our blessed Saviour, who loved 
 us so dearly, who did and suffered so much for us, whQ re- 
 deemed us by his blood, who said unto us, ' If ye love me, 
 keep my commandments,' he tlius positively hath enjoined, 
 * But I say unto you. Swear not at all:' and how then can 
 we find in our heart directly to thwart his word ? 
 
 The other is, that we would lay to heart the reason whereby 
 
 * Chrys. "AvSp, to', p. 559. taf. p. o38.
 
 400 BARROW. — SERMON XV. 
 
 St. James doth inforce the point, and the sting in the close of 
 our text, wherewith I conclude ; ' But above all things, my 
 brethren, swear not, neither by heaven, neither by the earth, 
 neither by any other oath : but let your yea be yea, and your 
 nay nay, lest ye fall into condemnation,' or, * lest ye fall 
 under damnation.' From the which infinite mischief, and from 
 all sin that may cause it, God in mercy deliver us through our 
 blessed Redeemer Jesus, to whom for ever be all glory and 
 praise.
 
 SERMON XVI. 401 
 
 SUMMARY OF SERMON XVI. 
 
 TITUS, CHAP. III. — VERSE 2. 
 
 The words of the text imply a double duty ; one incumbent 
 on teachers, another on the people who are to be instructed by 
 them. 
 
 The teacher's duty will appear from reflecting on the words 
 of the context, which govern these, and make them up an 
 intire sentence : put them in mind, or, rub up their memory to 
 do thus: we have here St. Paul's injunction to Titus, a bishop 
 and pastor of the church ; whence it is apparent that this is one 
 of the principal duties that preachers are obliged to press on the 
 people ; and if it were requisite in St. Paul's time, it is now 
 especially so : farther observations on this topic. 
 
 The import and extent of the duty, not to reproach or speak 
 evil of any man, is first explained ; and next inculcated by se- 
 veral inducements to the observance of it. 
 
 I. For explication, we may consider the object of it, no man ; 
 then the act itself which is prohibited, to blaspheme, that is, to 
 reproach, to revile, or as we have it rendered, to speak evil. 
 
 No man. St. Paul questionless did especially mean hereby 
 to hinder Christians at that time from reproaching the Jews and 
 Pagans among whom they lived, wicked men, wiio did hate 
 and persecute them ; of whom therefore they had great provo- 
 cation to speak ill : whence may be inferred that the object of 
 this duty is very large, indeed universal and unlimited. 
 
 As for the act, ft\aa<prifxeli' , to blaspheme, it is to vent words 
 concerning any person which signify an ill opinion, hatred, or 
 enmity in our minds towards him, which arc apt to kindle in liini
 
 402 
 
 SUMMARY OF 
 
 wrath and ill blood against us, or ill will toward him in others 
 that hear us, which are productive of injury or mischief to him : 
 synonymes of it that are used in Scripture quoted. The reason of 
 things helps to explain these words, and to show why they are 
 prohibited : because such harsh terms are needless ; mild words 
 serving as well to express the same things; because tUey are 
 commonly unjust, loading men with greater blame than they can 
 be proved to deserve; because they are uncharitable, and pro- 
 duce mischievous effects. This is in gross the meaning of the 
 precept. But since there are some other precepts which seem to 
 clash with it, some cases wherein we are allowed to use the 
 harsher sort of terms, it may be requisite, for determining the 
 limits of our duty, to declare such exceptions or restrictions. 
 
 1. First, then, we may observe that it may be allowable to 
 persons, anywise concerned in the prosecution or administration 
 of justice, to speak words which in private intercourse would 
 be reproachful. 
 
 2. God's ministers in religious affairs, to whom the care of 
 men's instruction and edification is committed, are empowered 
 to inveigh against sin and vice, whoever consequentially may 
 be touched thereby ; yea, sometimes it is their duty sharply 
 to rebuke particular persons for their correction and the edifi- 
 cation of others. Directions of St. Paul to Timothy on this 
 point. Instances of this in the old prophets, and in the 
 Apostles. 
 
 3. Even private persons in due season, with discretion and 
 temper, may reprove others, whom they observe to commit 
 sin, or to follow bad courses, out of a charitable design, and 
 with a hope to reclaim them. This was an office of charity 
 imposed anciently on the Jews : much more does it lie on 
 Christians. 
 
 4. Some vehemency or sharpness of speech may sometimes 
 be used in defence of truth, and in attacking errors of bad 
 consequence, especially when it concerns the interest of truth,
 
 SERMON XVI. 403 
 
 that the reputation and authority of its adversaries should be 
 somewhat abated. 
 
 5. It may be excusable, on particular emergent occasions, 
 with some heat of language to express dislike of notorious 
 wickedness. Our Lord's speeches against the pharisees in- 
 stanced ; also those of St. Peter and St. Paul, against Simon 
 Magus and Elyraas ; &c. 
 
 These sort of speeches, issuing from just indignation, and 
 from persons eminent in authority and integrity, such as can- 
 not be suspected of intemperate anger and ill will, are some- 
 times excusable, and even commendable. But it will be right 
 to reflect on the cases when they appear so, and to remark some 
 particulars about them. 
 
 First, we may observe that in all such cases all possible 
 moderation, equity, and candor, are to be used ; so that no ill 
 speaking be practised beyond what is needful or convenient. 
 Even in the prosecution of offences, the bounds of truth, huma- 
 nity, and clemency are not to be transgressed : this may be 
 learned from the law of Moses. 
 
 Secondly, ministers, in taxing sin and sinners, are to proceed 
 with great caution, gentleness, and meekness; signifying a 
 tender pity of their infirmities, charitable desires for their good, 
 and the best hopes for them that may consist with reason ; ac- 
 cording to the apostolical rules quoted. 
 
 Thirdly, as for fraternal correction and reproof of faults, when 
 it is just and expedient to use it, ordinarily the calmest and 
 mildest way is most proper and likely to obtain good success ; 
 whereas rough handling is apt to obstruct the cure, and harsh 
 speech renders advice odious. 
 
 Fourthly, in defence also of truth and maintenance of a 
 good cause, commonly the fairest language is most proper and 
 advantageous : a modest and friendly style suits truth, which 
 thus propounded is more willingly hearkened to; but it is a 
 preposterous method of instructing, of deciding controversies.
 
 404 SUMMARY OF 
 
 of begetting peace, to vex and anger those concenied by ill 
 language. 
 
 Fifthly, as for the examples of extraordinary persons, which 
 in some cases seem to authorise the practice of evil-speaking ; 
 we may consider that, as they had especial commission enabling 
 them to do some things beyond ordinary rules, and had especial 
 illumination to direct them, so the tenor of their life gave 
 evidence that the glory of God, the good of men, and the 
 necessity of the case, moved them to it : this topic en- 
 larged on. 
 
 The cases of exception then are few, and to be cautiously 
 admitted: for our clearer direction, in speaking about our 
 neighbor, we must observe the following cautions. 
 
 1. We should never in severe terms inveigh against any man 
 without reasonable warrant, or presuming on a good call and 
 commission for the purpose. 
 
 2. We should never speak so of any man without apparent 
 just cause : we must not reproach men for things innocent or 
 indifterent, for not complying with our humor or interests. 
 
 3. We should not cast reproach on any man without some 
 necessary reason : in that charity which covereth a multitude 
 of sins, we are bound to extenuate and excuse the faults of our 
 brethren, so far as truth and equity permit. 
 
 4. We should never speak ill of our neighbor beyond mea- 
 sure, be the cause never so just, the occasion never so necessary. 
 
 5. We should never speak ill of any man out of bad prin- 
 ciples, or for bad ends ; from no sudden auger, inveterate 
 hatred, revengeful disposition, contempt, or envy ; to compass 
 any design of our own, to cherish any malignity or ill humor; 
 neither out of wantonness nor out of negligence and inadver- 
 tency ; in fine from no other principle but that of charity, and 
 to no other intent but what is charitable. 
 
 IT. So much for the explication of this precept: some in- 
 ducements to the observance of it are now propounded.
 
 SERMON XVI. 405 
 
 1. Let us consider that nothing more than railing and revil- 
 ing is opposite to the nature, and inconsistent with the tenor of 
 our religion. 
 
 2. It is therefore often expressly condemned and prohibited 
 as evil. 
 
 3. Against no practice are severer punishments denounced. 
 St. Paul adjudges the railer to be banished from good society, 
 1 Cor. V. 11. ; and from heaven, 1 Cor. vi. 10. 
 
 4. Such language is in its nature the symptom of a weak 
 and distempered mind : a stream that cannot issue from a sweet 
 spring. 
 
 5. This practice plainly signifies low spirit, ill-breeding, 
 and bad manners, and is thence unbecoming to any wise, 
 honest, or honorable person : all such have an aversion to 
 it, and cannot entertain it with complacency. 
 
 6. He that uses this kind of speech, as he harms and treubles 
 others, so does he create thereby great inconveniences and 
 mischiefs to himself: this point enlarged on. 
 
 7. Hence with evidently good reason is he that uses such 
 language called a fool ; and he that abstaineth from it is com- 
 mended as wise : Piov. xviii. 6. 7. 
 
 8. Lastly, we may consider that it is a grievous perversion 
 of the design of speech, which so much distinguishes us above 
 other creatures, to use it in defaming and dis<iuieting our 
 neighbor : far better were it that we could say nothing, than 
 that we should speak ill. Conclusion.
 
 406 BARROW. — SERMON XVI. 
 
 SERMON XVI. 
 
 OF EVIL-SPEAKING IN GENERAL. 
 
 TITUS, CHAP. III. — VERSE 2. 
 — To speak evil of no man. 
 
 These words do imply a double duty ; one incumbent on 
 teachers, another on the people who are to be instructed by 
 them. 
 
 The teacher's duty appeareth from reflecting on the words 
 of the context, which govern these, and make them up an 
 intire sentence ; ' Put them in mind,' or, rub up their memory 
 to do thus. It is St. Paul's injunction to Titus, a bishop and 
 pastor of the church, that he should admonish the people com- 
 mitted to his care and instruction, as of other great duties, (of 
 yielding obedience to magistrates, of behaving themselves 
 peaceably, of practising meekness and equity toward all men, 
 of being ' readily disposed to every good work,') so particu- 
 larly of this, jx-qhiva ^\acj<pT}^€l.v, ' to revile,' or ' speak evil of 
 no man.' 
 
 Whence it is apparent that this is one of the principal duties 
 that preachers are obliged to mind people of, and to press on 
 them. And if this were needful then, when charity, kindled 
 by such instructions and examples, was so lively ; when Chris- 
 tians, by their sufferings, were so inured to meekness and 
 patience ; even every one, for the honor of his religion, and 
 the safety of his person, was concerned in all respects to demean 
 himself innocently and inoflfensively ; then is it now especially 
 requisite, when (such engagements and restraints being taken
 
 OF EVIL-SPEAKING IN GENERAL, 407 
 
 off, love being cooled, persecution being extinct, the tongue 
 being set loose from all extraordinary curbs) the transgression 
 of this duty is grown so prevalent and rife, that evil-speaking 
 is almost as common as speaking, ordinary conversation ex- 
 tremely abounding therew^ith, that ministers should discharge 
 their office in dehorting and dissuading from it. 
 
 Well indeed it were, if by their example of using mild and 
 moderate discourse, of abstaining from virulent invectives, 
 tauntings, and scoffings, good for little but to inflame anger, 
 and infuse ill-will, they would lead men to good practice of this 
 sort: for no examples can be so wholesome, or so mischievous 
 to this purpose, as those which come down from the pulpit, 
 the place of edification, backed with special authority and ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 However, it is to preachers a ground of assurance, and 
 matter of satisfaction, that in pressing this duty they shall 
 perform their duty : their text being not so much of their own 
 choosing, as given them by St. Paul ; they can surely scarce 
 find a better to discourse on : it cannot be a matter of small 
 moment or use, which this great master and guide so ex- 
 pressly directeth us to insist on. And to the observance of 
 his precept, so far as concerneth me, I shall immediately apply 
 myself. 
 
 It is then the duty of all Christian people, (to be taught, and 
 pressed on Ihem,) 'not to reproach,' or 'speak evil of any 
 man.' The which duty, for your instruction, I shall first en- 
 deavor somewhat to explain, declaring its import and extent ; 
 then, for your farther edification, I shall inculcate it, pro- 
 posing several inducements persuasive to the observance of it. 
 
 I. For explication, we may first consider the object of it, 
 < no man ;' then the act itself, which is prohibited, ' to blas- 
 pheme,' that is, to reproach, to revile, or, as we have it ren- 
 dered, ' to speak evil.' 
 
 ' No man.' St. Paul questionless did especially mean hereby 
 to hinder the Christians at that time from reproaching the Jews 
 and the Pagans among whom they lived, men in their lives 
 very wicked and corrupt, men in opinion extremely dissenting 
 from them, men who greatly did hate, and cruelly did perse- 
 cute them ; of whom therefore they had mighty provocations
 
 408 BARROW, — SERMON XVI. 
 
 and temptations to speak ill ; their judgment of the persons, 
 and their resentment of injuries, making it difficult to abstain 
 from doing so. Whence by a manifest analogy may be in- 
 ferred, that the object of this duty is very large, indeed universal 
 and unlimited : that we must forbear reproach not only against 
 pious and virtuous persons, against persons of our own judgment 
 or party, against those who never did harm or offend us, against 
 our relations, our friends, our benefactors ; in respect of whom 
 there is no ground or temptation of ill-speaking ; but even 
 against the most unworthy and wicked persons, against those 
 who most discoast in opinion and practice from us, against 
 those who never did oblige us, yea those who have most dis- 
 obliged us, even against our most bitter and spiteful enemies. 
 There is no acception or excuse to be admitted from the 
 quality, state, relation, or demeanor of men ; the duty (ac- 
 cording to the proper sense, or due qualifications and limits 
 of the act) doth extend to all men : for, ' speak evil of no 
 man.' 
 
 As for the act, it may be inquired what the word /SXaffij-Ty/ieli', 
 ' to blaspheme,' doth import. I answer, that it is to vent words 
 concerning any person which do signify in us ill opinion, or 
 contempt, anger, hatred, enmity conceived in our minds toward 
 him ; which are apt in him to kindle wrath, and breed ill 
 blood toward us ; which tend to beget in others that hear ill 
 conceit, or ill-will toward him ; which are much destructive of 
 his reputation, prejudicial to his interests, productive of damage 
 or mischief to him. It is otherwise in Scripture termed \oibo- 
 pe'iv, 'to rail' or ' revile,' (to use bitter and ignominious lan- 
 guage ;) vjSpicetv, ' to speak contumeliously ;' (jtepeiv /jXaffc&ij/iov 
 Kpitjiv, ' to bring railing accusation,' (or reproachful censure ;) 
 t^araXaXely, to use 'obloquy,' or ' obtrectation ;' Karapdatiai, 
 'to curse,' that is, to speak words importing that we do wish 
 ill to a person. 
 
 Such is the language we are prohibited to use. To which 
 purpose we may observe, that whereas in our conversation and 
 commerce with men, there do frequently occur occasions to 
 speak of men, and to men, words apparently disadvantageous 
 to them expressing our dissent in opinion from them, or a 
 dislike in us of their proceedings, we may do this in different
 
 OF EVIL-SPEAKING IN GENERAL. 409 
 
 ways and terms ; some of them gentle and moderate, signify- 
 ing no ill mind or disaffection toward them : others harsh 
 and sharp, arguing height of disdain, disgust, or despite, 
 whereby we bid them defiance, and show that we mean to ex- 
 asperate them. Thus, telling a man that we differ in judgment 
 from him, or conceive him not to be in the right, and calling- 
 him a liar, a deceiver, a fool ; saying that he doeth amiss, 
 taketh a wrong course, transgresseth the rule, and calling him 
 dishonest, unjust, wicked; (to omit more odious and provok- 
 ing names, unbecoming this place, and not deserving our 
 notice;) are several ways of expressing the same things: 
 whereof the latter, in relating passages concerning our neigh- 
 bor, or in debating cases with him, is prohibited : for thus the 
 words reproaching, reviling, railing, cursing, and the like, 
 do signify; and thus our Lord himself doth explain them, in 
 his divine sermon, wherein he doth enact this law ; * Whoso- 
 ever,' saith he, ' shall say to his brother, Raca,' (that is, vain 
 man, or liar,) * shall be in danger of the council : but whoso- 
 ever shall say. Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire ;' 
 that is, he rendereth himself liable to a strict account, and to 
 severe condemnation before God, who useth contemptuous and 
 contumelious expressions toward his neighbor, in proportion to 
 the malignity of such expressions. 
 
 The reason of things also doth help to explain those words, 
 and to show why they are prohibited : because those harsh 
 terms are needless ; mild words serving as well to express the 
 same things : because they are commonly unjust, loading men 
 with greater defect or blame than they can be proved to de- 
 serve, or their actions do import : (for every man that speaketh 
 falsehood is not therefore a liar, every man that erreth is not 
 thence a fool, every man that doeth amiss is not consequently 
 dishonest or wicked ; the secret intentions and the habitual 
 dispositions of men not being always to be collected from their 
 outward actions :) because they are uncharitable, siirnifying 
 that we entertain the worst opinions of men, and make the 
 worst construction of their doings, and are disposed to show 
 them no favor or kindness: because also they produce mis- 
 chievous effects, such as spring from the worst passions raised 
 by them. 
 
 BAR. VOL. 1. S
 
 410 BARROW. — SERMON XVI. 
 
 This in gross is the meaning of the precept. But since 
 there are some other precepts seeming to clash with this ; 
 since there are cases wherein we are allowed to use the harsher 
 sort of terms, there are great examples in appearance thwart- 
 ing this rule ; therefore it may be requisite for determining 
 the limits of our duty, and distinguishing it from transgres- 
 sion, that such exceptions or restrictions should be somewhat 
 declared. 
 
 1. First then, we may observe that it may be allowable to 
 persons anywise concerned in the prosecution or administration 
 of justice, to speak words which in private intercourse would 
 be reproachful. A witness may impeach of crimes hurtful to 
 justice, or public tranquillity; a judge may challenge, may 
 rebuke, may condemn an offender in proper terms, (or forms 
 of speech prescribed by law,) although most disgraceful and 
 distasteful to the guilty : for it belongeth to the majesty of 
 public justice to be bold, blunt, severe ; little regarding the 
 concerns or passions of particular persons, in comparison to the 
 public welfare. 
 
 A testimony therefore or sentence against a criminal, which 
 materially is a reproach, and morally would be such in a pri- 
 vate mouth, is not yet formally so according to the intent of 
 this rule. For practices of this kind, which serve the exigences 
 of justice, are not to be interpreted as proceeding from anger, 
 hatred, revenge, any bad passion or humor; but in way of 
 needful discipline for God's service, and common benefit of 
 men. It is not indeed so much the minister of justice, as God 
 himself, our absolute Lord, as the Sovereign, God's represen- 
 tative, acting in the public behalf, as the commonwealth itself, 
 who by his mouth do rebuke the obnoxious person. 
 
 2. God's ministers in religious affairs, to whom the care of 
 men's instruction and edification is committed, are enabled to 
 inveigh against sin and vice, whoever consequentially maybe 
 touched thereby ; yea sometimes it is their duty with severity 
 and sharpness to reprove particular persons, not only privately, 
 but publicly, in order to their correction, and edification of 
 others. 
 
 Thus St. Paul directeth Timothy ; ' Them that sin (notori- 
 ously and scandalously he meaneth) rebuke before all, that
 
 OF EVIL SPEAKING IN GENERAL. 411 
 
 others may fear;' that is in a manner apt to make impression 
 on the minds of the hearers, so as to scare them from like of- 
 fences. And to Titus he writes, ' Rebuke them sharply, that 
 they may be sound in the faith,' And, ' Cry aloud, spare not, 
 lift up thy voice like a trumpet, and show my people their 
 transgressions, and the house of Jacob their sins,' saith the Lord 
 to the prophet. Such are the charges and commissions laid on 
 and granted to his messengers. 
 
 Thus may we observe that God's prophets of old, St. John 
 the Baptist, our Lord himself, the holy Apostles did in terms 
 most vehement and biting reprove the age in which tliey lived, 
 and some particular persons in them. The prophets are full of 
 declamations and invectives against the general corruption of 
 their times, and against the particular manners of some persons 
 in them. *Ah sinful nation, a people laden with iniquity, a 
 seed of evil-doers, children that are corrupters !' ' They are 
 all adulterers, an assembly of treacherous men ; and they bend 
 their tongues like their bow for lies.' ' Thy princes are rebel- 
 lious, and companions of thieves; every one loveth gifts, and 
 followeth after rewards: they judge not the fatherless, neither 
 doth the cause of the widow come before them.' ' The prophets 
 prophecy falsely, and the priests rule by their means.' 'As 
 troops of robbers wait for a man, so the company of priests 
 murder in the way by consent, and commit lewdness.' Such is 
 their style commonly. St. John the Baptist calleth the scribes 
 and pharisees * a generation of vipers.' Our Saviour speaketh of 
 them in the same terms ; calleth them an ' evil and adulterous ge- 
 neration,' 'serpents,' and 'children of vipers;' 'hypocrites,' 
 * painted sepulchres,' ' obscure graves,' {fivqut'ia abrjXa,) ' blind 
 guides,' ' fools and blind,' ' children of the devil.' St. Paul like- 
 wise calleth the schismatical and heretical teachers, 'dogs,' 'false 
 Apostles,' ' evil and deceitful workers,' ' men of corrupt minds,' 
 ' reprobates and abominable.' With the like colors, do St. 
 Peter, St. Jude, and other the Apostles, paint them. Which 
 sort of speeches are to be supposed to proceed, not from private 
 passion or design, but out of holy zeal for God's honor, and from 
 earnest charity toward men, for to work their amendment and 
 common edification. They were uttered also by special wisdom 
 and peculiar order; from God's authority and in his name : so
 
 412 BARROW. — SERMON XVI, 
 
 that as God by them is said to preach, to entreat, to warn, and 
 to exhort ; so by them also he may be said to reprehend and 
 reproach. 
 
 3. Even private persons in due season, with discretion and 
 temper, may reprove others, whom they observe to commit sin, 
 or follow bad courses, out of charitable design, and with hope 
 to reclaim them. This was an office of charity imposed an- 
 ciently even on the Jews : much more doth it lie on Christians, 
 who are obliged more earnestly to tender the spiritual good of 
 those who by the stricter and more holy bands of brotherhood 
 are allied to them. 'Thou shalt not hate thy brother: thou 
 shalt in anyvvise rebuke thy neighbor, and notsuffer sin onhim,' 
 was a precept of the old law : and, vovderelv arciKTovi, ' to ad- 
 monish the disorderly,' is an evangelical rule. Such persons 
 we are injoined to shun and decline : but first we must endea- 
 vor by sober advice and admonition to reclaim them ; we must 
 not thus reject them till they appear contumacious and incor- 
 rigible, refusing to hear us, or becoming deaf to reproof. This, 
 although it necessarily doth include setting out their faults, and 
 charging blame on them, (answerable to their offences,) is 
 not the culpable reproach here meant, it being needful toward 
 a wholesome effect, and proceeding from charitable intention. 
 
 4. Some vehemency (some smartness and sharpness) of 
 speech may sometimes be used in defence of truth, and im- 
 pugning errors of bad consequence: especially when itcon- 
 cerneth the interest of truth, that the reputation and authority 
 of its adversaries should somewhat be abased or abated. If by 
 a partial opinion or reverence toward them, however begotten 
 in the minds of men, they strive to overbear or discountenance 
 a good cause, their faults, so far as truth permitteth and need 
 requireth, may be detected and displayed. For this cause par- 
 ticularly may we presume our Lord (otherwise so meek in his 
 temper, and mild in his carriage toward all men) did charac- 
 terise the Jewish scribes in such terms, that their authority 
 (being then so prevalent with the people) might not prejudice 
 the truth, and hinder the efficacy of his doctrine. This is 
 partof that €7raywv/ceff9ut rj5^ Triarei, that duty of 'contending 
 earnestly for the faith,'* which is incumbent on us. 
 
 * Jude 3.
 
 OF EVIL-SPEAKING IN GENERAL. 413 
 
 •5. It may be excusable on particular emergent occasions, 
 with some heat of language to express dislike of notorious 
 wickedness. As our Lord doth against the perverse incredu- 
 lity and stupidity in the pharisees, their profane misconstruc- 
 tion of his words and actions, their malicious opposing truth, 
 and obstructing his endeavors in God's service. As St. Peter 
 did to Simon Magus, telling him, that he ' was in the gall of 
 bitterness, and in the bond of iniquity.' As St. Paul to 
 Elymas the sorcerer, when he ' withstood him, and desired to 
 turn away the deputy, Sergius, from the faith.' ' O,' said he, 
 stirred with a holy zeal and indignation, ' thou full of all sub- 
 tilty and all mischief, thou child of the devil, thou enemy of all 
 righteousness, wilt thou not cease to pervert the right ways of 
 the Lord V The same spirit, which enabled him to inflict u 
 sore punishment on that wicked wretch, did prompt him to use 
 that sharp language toward him ; unquestionably deserved, 
 and seasonably pronounced. As also, when the high priest 
 commanded him illegally and unjustly to be misused, that 
 speech from a mind justly sensible of such outrage broke forth, 
 * God shall smite thee, thou whited wall.' So, when St. Peter 
 presumptuously would have dissuaded our Lord from com- 
 pliance with God's will, in undergoing those crosses which 
 were appointed to him by God's decree, our Lord calleth him 
 Satan ; "TTraye, Saravd, ' Avaunt, Satan, thou art an offence 
 unto me ; for thou savourest not the things that be of God, but 
 those that are of men.' 
 
 These sort of speeches, issuing from just and honest indig- 
 nation, are sometimes excusable, oftentimes commendable ; 
 especially when they come from persons eminent in authority, 
 of notable integrity, endued with special measures of divine 
 grace, of wisdom, of goodness ; such as cannot be suspected of 
 intemperate anger, of ill nature, of ill will, or ill design. 
 
 In such cases as are above mentioned, a sort of 'evil-speak- 
 ing' about our neighbor may be allowable or excusal)le. But 
 for fear of overdoing, great caution and temper is to be used; 
 and we should never apply any such limitations as cloaks to 
 palliate unjust or uncharitable dealing. (;(nerally it is more 
 advisable to suppress such eruptions of passion, than to vent it ; 
 for seldom passion hath not inordinate motions joined with it,
 
 414 BARROW. — SERMON XVI. 
 
 or tendeth to good ends. And however it will do well to 
 reflect on those cases, and to remark some particulars about 
 them. 
 
 First, we may observe, that in all these cases, all possible 
 moderation, equity, and candor are to be used ; so that no ill- 
 speaking be practised beyond what is needful or convenient. 
 Even in prosecution ofoftences, the bounds of truth, of equity, 
 of humanity and clemency are not to be transgressed. A 
 judge must not lay on the most criminal person more blame, or 
 contumely, than the case will bear, or than serveth the designs 
 of justice. However our neiahbor doth incur the calamities of 
 sin and of punishment, we must not be insolent or contemptuous 
 toward him. So we may learn by that law of Moses, backed 
 with a notable reason : ' and it shall be, if the wicked man be 
 worthy to be beaten, that the judge cause him to lie down, and 
 to be beaten before his face, according to his fault, by a certain 
 number. Forty stripes he may give him, and not exceed ; lest 
 if he should exceed, and beat him above those stripes, then thy 
 brother should seem vile unto thee.' Whence appears, that we 
 should be careful of not vilifying an offender beyond measure. 
 And how mildly governors should proceed in the administration 
 of justice, the example of Joshua may teach us, who thus 
 examineth Achan, the cause of so great mischief to the public : 
 * My son, give, I pray thee, glory to the Lord God of Israel, 
 and make confession unto him ; and tell me now what thou 
 hast done, hide it not from me.' ' My son ;' what compellation 
 could be more benign and kind ? ' I pray thee ;' what language 
 could be more courteous and gentle ? ' Give glory to God, and 
 make confession ;' what words could be more inoffensively 
 pertinent ? And when he sentenced that great malefactor, the 
 cause of so much mischief, this was all he said, ' Why hast thou 
 troubled us ? the Lord will trouble thee ;' words void of con- 
 tumely or insulting, containing only a close intimation of the 
 cause, and a simple declaration of the event he was to undergo. 
 Secondly, likewise ministers, in the taxing ain and sinners, 
 are to proceed with great discretion and caution, with much 
 gentleness and meekness ; signifying a tender pity of their in- 
 firmities, charitable desires of their good, the best opinion of 
 them, and the best hopes for them, that may consist with any
 
 OF EVIL-SPEAKING IN GENERAL. 415 
 
 reason ; according to those apostolical rules : ' Brethren, if a 
 man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual, restore 
 such an one in the spirit of meekness ; considering thyself, lest 
 thou also be tempted :' and, ' we that are strong ought to bear 
 the infirmities of the weak, and not to please ourselves :' and 
 more expressly, ' a servant of the Lord must not fight, but be 
 gentle toward all, apt to teach, patient, in meekness instruct- 
 ing those that oppose themselves.' Thus did St. Peter temper 
 his reproof of Simon Magus with this wholesome and comfort- 
 able advice ;' * Repent therefore from this thy wickedness, and 
 pray God, if perhaps the thought of thine heart may be for- 
 given thee.' 
 
 Thirdly, as for fraternal correption, and reproof of faults, 
 when it is just and expedient to use it, ordinarily the calmest 
 and mildest way is the most proper,* and most likely to obtain 
 good success : it commonly doth in a more kindly manner con- 
 vey the sense thereof into the heart,t and therein more powerfully 
 worketh remorse, than the fierce and harsh way. Clearly to 
 show a man his fault, with the reason proving it such, so that 
 he becometh throughly convinced of it, is sufficient to breed 
 in him regret, and to shame him before his own mind : to do 
 more, (in way of aggravation, of insulting on him, of inveighing 
 against him,) as it doth often not well consist with humanity, 
 so it is seldom consonant to discretion, if we do, as we ought, 
 seek his health and amendment.^ Humanity requireth that 
 when we undertake to reform our neighbor, we should take 
 care not to deform him ; (not to discourage or displease him 
 more than is necessary ;) when we would correct his manners, 
 that we should also consider his modesty, and consult his repu- 
 tation ; Cnram agentes, as Seneca speaketh, non tanltim salu- 
 tis, sed et honestce cicairicis ;\ ' having care not only to heal 
 
 * Repreliensio contunielia vacaio (lel)ot. Neqno nionilio aspor:i 
 sit, nee ol)jurf?atio coiitnnieliosa. — Anibios. dc Ollic. iii. 10". 
 
 t Prov. xvii. 10. A rciiroofcMlcieth tuorc into a wise man, lliaii 
 a humht'd stripes info a fuol. 
 
 X 'O b^riyhs, '6rav \a0ri iiva vKauui/xei'nv, ijyayev tVi 65hu ttji/ Sfovaaf oi'/x' 
 KaTaye\d(ras ^ AoiSoprjcrct/iecos atrriKOf Kal av Su^uv auTW Tr)f aXifinav, Kol 
 'ffiiid '6ti aKoXovBil, &c. — Epict. ii. \'i. 
 
 § Sen. dc Clem. i. 7. ^idc Clirys. in .Matt. ix. 8. Or. 20.
 
 416 BARROW. — SERMON XVI. 
 
 the wound, but to leave a comely scar behind.' * Be,' adviseth 
 St. Austin, ' so displeased with iniquity, as to consider and con- 
 sult humanity :'* for, ' zeal void of humanity is not,' saith St. 
 Chrysostom, ' zeal, but rather animosity ; and reproof not mixed 
 with good will, appeareth a kind of malignity.'! We should 
 so rebuke those who, by frailty, or folly incident to mankind, 
 have fallen into misdemeanors, that they may peceive we do 
 sincerely pity their ill case, and tender their good ; that we 
 mean not to upbraid their weakness, or insult on their misfor- 
 tune ; that we delight not to inflict on them more grief than is 
 plainly needful and unavoidable ; that we are conscious and 
 sensible of our own obnoxiousness to the like slips or falls, and 
 do ' consider, that we also maybe tempted,' and being tempted 
 may be overborne. This they cannot perceive, or be persuaded 
 of, except we temper our speech with benignity and mildness. 
 Such speech :|: prudence also dictateth, as most useful and 
 hopeful for producing the good ends honest reprehension doth 
 aim at; it moUitieth and it raelteth a stubborn heart, it sub- 
 dueth and winneth a perverse will, it healeth distempered af- 
 fections. Whereas roughly handling is apt to defeat or obstruct 
 the cure; rubbing the sore doth tend to exasperate and inflame 
 it. Harsh speech rendereth advice odious and unsavory ; 
 driveth from it, and depriveth it of efl&cacy : it turneth regret 
 for a fault into displeasure and disdain against the reprover : it 
 looks not like the dealing of a kind friend, but like the perse- 
 cution of a spiteful enemy : it seemeth rather an ebullition of 
 gall, or a defiuxion from rancor, than an expression of good 
 will : the offender will take it for a needless and pitiless tor- 
 menting, or for a proud and tyrannical domineering over him. 
 He that can bear a friendly touch, will not endure to be lashed 
 with angry and reproachful words. In line, all reproof ought 
 
 * Ita succense iniquitati, ut consulere memineris humanitatis. — 
 Aug. 
 
 t ZfjXos (pi\av6ptinrlas Kevhs, ov f'^^os, &C. 
 
 J Pleasant worJs are as an lioney-comb, sweet to the soul, and 
 health to tlje bones. Prov. xvi. 24. 
 
 A soft answer turneth away wrath; but grievous words stir up 
 anger. Prov. xv. 1.
 
 OF EVIL-SPEAKING IN GENERAL. 417 
 
 to be seasoned with discretion, with candor, with moderation 
 and meekness. 
 
 Fourthly, likewise in defence of truth, and maintenance of a 
 good cause, we may observe, that commonly the fairest lan- 
 guage is most proper and advantageous, and that reproachful 
 or foul terms are most improper and prejudicial. A calm and 
 meek way of discoursing doth much advantage a good cause, 
 as arguing the patron thereof to have confidence in the cause 
 itself, and to rely on his strength ; that he is in a temper fit to 
 apprehend it himself, and to maintain it; that he propoundeth 
 it as a friend, wishing the hearer for his own good to follow it, 
 leaving him the liberty to judge and choose for himself. But 
 rude speech, and contemptuous reflexions on persons, as they 
 do signify nothing to the question, so they commonly bring- 
 much disadvantage and damage to the cause, creating mighty 
 prejudices against it: they argue much impotency in the advo- 
 cate, and consequently little strength in what he maintains ; 
 that he is little able to judge well, and altogether unapt to 
 teach others : they intimate a diffidence in himself concerning 
 his cause, and that, despairing to maintain it by reason, he 
 seeks to uphold it by passion ; that, not being able to convince 
 by fair means, he would bear down by noise and clamor ; that, 
 not skilling to get his suit quietly, he would extort it by force, 
 obtruding his conceits violently as an enemy, or imposing them 
 arbitrarily as a tyrant. Thus doth he really disparage and slur 
 his cause, however good and defensible in itselt. 
 
 A modest and friendly style doth suit truth ; it, like its au- 
 thor, doth usually reside (not in the rumbling v.ind, nor in the 
 shaking earthquake, nor in the raging fire, but) in ' the small 
 still voice :' sounding in this, it is most audible, most penetrant, 
 and most effectual : thus propounded, it is willingly hcsarkened 
 to ; for men have no aversation from hearing those who seem 
 to love them, and wish them well. It is easily conceived ; no 
 prejudice or passion clouding the apprehensive faculties : it is 
 readily embraced ; no animosity withstanding or obstructing it. 
 It is ' the sweetness of the lips,' which, as the wise man tclleth 
 us, * increaseth learning ;' disposing a man to hear lessons ot 
 good doctrine, rendering him capable to understand them, insi-
 
 418 
 
 BARROW. — SERMON XVI. 
 
 nnating and impressing them on the mind : the affections 
 being thereby unlocked, the passage becomes open to the 
 reason. 
 
 But it is plainly a very preposterous method of instructing, 
 of deciding controversies, of begetting peace, to vex and anger 
 those concerned by ill language. Nothing surely doth more 
 hinder the efficacy of dicourse, and prevent conviction, than 
 doth this course, on many obvious accounts. It doth first put 
 in a strong bar to attention : for no man willingly doth afford 
 an ear to him whom he conceiveth disaffected toward him ; 
 which opinion harsh words infallibly will produce : no man can 
 expect to hear truth from him, whom he apprehendeth disor- 
 dered in his own mind, whom he see th rude in his proceed- 
 ings, whom he taketh to be unjust in his dealing ; as men cer- 
 tainly will take those to be, who presume to revile others for 
 using their own judgment freely, and dissenting from them in 
 opinion. ^ gain, this course doth blind the hearer's mind, so 
 that he cannot discern what he that pretends to instruct him 
 doth mean, or how he doth assert his doctrine. Truth will not 
 be discerned through the smoke of wrathful expressions; right 
 being defaced by foul language will not appear ; passion being 
 excited will not suffer a man to perceive the sense, or the force 
 of an argument. The will also thereby is hardened and hin- 
 dered from submitting to truth. In such a case, non pn'sua- 
 debis, etiamsi persvaseris: although you stop his mouth, you 
 cannot subdue his heart; although he can no longer fight, yet 
 he never will yield : animosity raised by such usage rendereth 
 him invincibly obstinate in his conceits and courses. Briefly, 
 from this proceeding men become unwiiling to mark, unfit to 
 apprehend, indisposed to embrace any good instruction or ad- 
 vice : it maketh them indocile and intractable, averse from 
 better instruction, pertinacious in tl:eir opinions, and refractory 
 iu their ways. 
 
 ' Every man,' saith the wise man, ' shall kiss his lips that 
 giveth a right answer:' but no man surely will be ready to 
 kiss those lips which are embittered with reproach, or defiled 
 with dirty langiiasje. 
 
 It is said of Pericles, that ' with thundering and lightning
 
 OF EVIL-SPEAKING IN GENERAL. 419 
 
 he put Greece into confusion :'* such discourse may serve to 
 confound things, it seldom tendeth to compose them. If reason 
 will not pierce, rage will scarce avail to drive it in.f Satirical 
 virulency may vex men sorely, but it hardly ever soundly con- 
 verts them. ' Few become wiser or better by ill words.' Chil- 
 dren may be frighted into compliance by loud and severe in- 
 crepations; but men are to be allured by rational persuasion 
 backed with courteous usage : they may be sweetly drawn, 
 they cannot be violently driven to change their judgment and 
 practice. Whence that advice of the Apostle, ' With meek- 
 ness instruct those that oppose themselvt.s,' doth no less savor 
 of wisdom than of goodness. 
 
 Fifthly, as for the examples of extraordinary persons, which 
 in some cases do seem to authorise the practice of evil speak- 
 ing, we may consider, that as they had especial commission 
 enabling tliem to do some things beyond ordinary standinsr 
 rules, wherein they are not to be imitated ; as they had espe- 
 cial illumination and direction, which preserved them from 
 swerving in particular cases from truth and equity ; so the 
 tenor of their life did evidence, that it was the glory ofCiod, 
 the good of men, the necessity of the case, which moved them 
 to \t.X And of them also we may observe, that in divers oc- 
 casions, yea generally, whenever only their private credit or 
 interest were concerned, although grievously provoked, they 
 did out of meekness, patience, and charity, wholly forbear 
 reproachful speech. Our Saviour, who sometimes on speoial 
 reason in his discourses used such harsh words, yet, when he 
 was most spitefully accused, reproached and persecuted, ' did 
 not open his mouth,' or return one angry word : ' Being re- 
 
 * BpovrZv xal aiTTpdnTccv (Kvna rrjv "E/\\a5a. 
 
 t Ohrvs. in 2 Tim. ii. 24. 'O 70^ a-c!>uSpbv iXtyxos, 'drav iitr itrieiKtlaf 
 yiiferai, oSrds eVriJ/ 6 jxaKiaTa SaKe'tf Sui'dn>:Vus- tveiTTt yap, hiffrt fxtja irpa6- 
 T7JT0S KaQa^arjOai fiaWuv, fj ixira BpaaurriTos ^i/rpfif/ai. 
 
 + 'lliis case is like Ihe oth.r easels, wherein thn praclicP of pc<iotl 
 and Rreat men, alllion^rh evcnsable, is not }et exemplary : as the 
 heroical acts of David, of Sampson, of !.l)n<l, of Phinea*. of Islias, of 
 iMoses ; David's duel, Sampson's snieide, Moses's sla\ inj,^ the I'.irvp- 
 lian, Ehud's stahhin-r the kin-? of Moalt, Idias's ealhng for file, l»V 
 extiaordinaiy and peculiar inslinct.
 
 420 BARROW. — SERMON XVI. 
 
 viled, he did not,' as St. Peter, proposing his example to us, 
 telleth us, * revile again ; suffering, he did not threaten.' He 
 used the softest language to Judas, to the soldiers, to Pilate 
 and Herod, to the priests, &c. And the Apostles, who some- 
 times inveigh so zealously against the opposers and perverters of 
 truth, did in their private conversation and demeanor strictly 
 observe their own rules of abstinence from reproach : ' Being 
 reviled we bless, being persecuted we suffer it ;' so doth St, Paul 
 represent their practice. And in reason we should rather fol- 
 low them in this their extraordinary sallies of practice. 
 
 In fine, however in some cases and circumstances the matter 
 may admit such exceptions, so that all language disgraceful to 
 our neighbor is not ever culpable ; yet the oases are so few 
 and rare in comparison, the practice commonly so dangerous 
 and ticklish, that worthily forbearing to reproach doth bear the 
 style of a general rule; and particularly, for clearer direction, 
 we are in the following cases obliged carefully to shun it ; or 
 in speaking about our neighbor we must observe these 
 cautions. 
 
 1. We should never in severe terms inveigh against any man 
 without reasonable warrant, or presuming on a good call and 
 commission thereto. As every man should not assume to him- 
 self the power of administering justice, (of trying, sentencing, 
 and punishing offenders,) so must not every man take on him 
 to speak against those who seem to do ill ; which is a sort of 
 punishment, including the infliction of smart and damage on 
 the persons concerned. Every man hath indeed a commis- 
 sion, in due place and season, with discretion and moderation 
 to admonish his neighbor offending; but otherwise to speak ill 
 of him, no private man hath just right or authority : and there- 
 fore in presuming to do it he is disorderly and irregular, 
 trespassing beyond his bounds, usurping an undue power to 
 himself. 
 
 2. We should never speak ill of any man without apparent 
 just cause. It must be just : we must not reproach men for 
 things innocent or indifferent ; for not concurring in disputable 
 opinions with us, for not complying with our humor, for not 
 serving our interest, for not doing any thing to which they are 
 not obliged, or for using their liberty in any case : it must be
 
 OF EVIL-SPEAKING IN GENERAL. 421 
 
 at least some considerable fault, which we can so much as tax. 
 It must also be clear and certain, notorious and palpable ; for 
 to speak ill on slender conjectures, or doubtful suspicions, is 
 full of iniquity. "Offa ovk o'ibaai, ^Xaa^-qyiovcti, ' they rail at 
 things which they know not,' is part of those wicked men's 
 character, whom St. Jude doth so severely reprehend. If 
 indeed, these conditions being wanting, we presume to reproach 
 any man, we do therein no less than slander him ; which to do 
 is unlawful in any case, is in truth a most diabolical and de- 
 testable crime. To impose odious names and characters on any 
 person, which he deserveth not, or without ground of truth, is 
 to play the devil ; and hell itself scarce will own a fouler 
 practice. 
 
 3. We should not cast reproach on any man without some ne- 
 cessary reason. In charity (that charity which ' covereth all sins,' 
 which ' covereth a multitude of sins') we are bound to connive 
 at the defects, and to conceal the faults of our brethren ; to ex- 
 tenuate and excuse them, when apparent, so far as we may in 
 truth and equity. We must not therefore ever produce them 
 to light, or prosecute them with severity, except very needful 
 occasion urgeth ; such as is the glory and service of God, the 
 maintenance of truth, the vindication of innocence, the preser- 
 vation of public justice and peace, the amendment of our 
 neighbor himself, or securing others from contagion. Barring 
 such reasons, (really being, not atfectedly pretended,) we are 
 bound not so much as to disclose, as to touch our neighbor's 
 faults ; much more, not to blaze them about, not to exaggerate 
 them by vehement invectives. 
 
 4. We should never speak ill of any man beyond measure : 
 be the cause never so just, the occasion never so necessary, we 
 should yet nowise be immoderate therein, exceeding the bounds 
 prescribed by truth, equity, and humanity. We should never 
 speak worse of any man whatever than he certainly deserveth, 
 according to the most favorable construction of his doings ; 
 never more than the cause absolutely rocpiireth. Wc; should 
 rather be careful to fall short of what in rigorous truth might 
 be said against him, than in the least to pass beyond it. The 
 best cause had better soem to suffer a little by our reservedness 
 in its defence, than any man be wronged by our aspersing him ;
 
 422 BARROW. — SERMON XVI. 
 
 for God, the patron of truth and right, is ever able to secure 
 thetu without the succor of our unjust and uncharitable dealing. 
 The contrary practice hath indeed within it a spice of slander, 
 that is, of the worst iniquity, 
 
 5. We must never speak ill of any man out of bad princi- 
 ples, or for bad ends. 
 
 No sudden or rash anger should instigate us thereto. For, 
 ' let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil- 
 speaking, be put away from you, with all malice,' is the 
 apostolical precept: they are all associates and kindred, which 
 are to be cast away together. Such anger itself is culpable, 
 as a work of the flesh, and therefore to be suppressed; and all 
 its brood therefore is also to be smothered : the daughter of 
 such a mother cannot be legitimate : ' The wrath of man 
 worketh not the righteousness of God.' 
 
 We must not speak ill out of inveterate hatred or ill-will. 
 For this murderous, this viperous disposition should itself be 
 rooted out of our hearts; whatever issueth from it cannot be 
 otherwise than very bad ; it must be a poisonous breath that 
 exhaleth from that foul source. 
 
 We must not be provoked thereto by any revengeful dis- 
 position, or rancorous spleen, in regard to any injuries or dis- 
 courtesies received. For, as we must not revenge ourselves, or 
 render evil in any other way ; so particularly not in this, which 
 is commonly the special instance expressly prohibited. * Ren- 
 der not evil for evil,' saith St. Peter, * nor railing for railing ; 
 but contrariwise bless,* or speak well : and, ' Bless them,' 
 saith our Lord, ' which c:irse you :' ' Bless,' saith St. Paul, 
 ' and curse not.' 
 
 We must not also do it out of contempt; for we are not to 
 slight our brethren in our hearts. Xo man really (considering 
 what he is, whence he came, how he is related, what he is 
 capable of) can be despicable. Extreme naughtiness is indeed 
 contemptible ; but the unhappy person that is engaged therein 
 is rather to be pitied than despised. However, charity bindeth 
 us to stifle contemptuous motions of heart, and not to vent 
 them in vilifying expression. Particularly, it is a barbarous 
 practice out of contempt to reproach persons for natural imper- 
 fections, for meanness of condition, for unlucky disasters, for
 
 OF EVIL-SPEAKING IN GENERAL. 423 
 
 any involuntary defects : this being- indeed to reproach man- 
 kind, unto which such things are incident; to reproach provi- 
 dence, from the disposal whereof they do proceed. ' Whoso 
 raocketh the poor despiseth his Maker,' saith the wise rnan ; 
 and the same may be said of him that reproachfully mocketh 
 him that is dull in parts, deformed in body, weak in health or 
 strength, or defective in any such way. 
 
 Likewise we must not speak ill out of envy : because others 
 do excel us in any good quality, or exceed us in fortune. To 
 harbor this base and ugly disposition in our minds is unworthy 
 of a man, who should delight in all good springing up any- 
 where, and befalling any man, naturally allied unto him ; it is 
 most unworthy of a Christian, who should tender his brother's 
 good as his own, and ' rejoice with those that rejoice.' From 
 thence to be drawn to cast reproJich on any man is horrible and 
 heinous wickedness. 
 
 Neither should we ever use reproach as a means of com- 
 passing any design we do affect or aim at : it is an unwarrant- 
 able engine of raising us to wealth, dignity, or repute. To 
 grow by the diminution, to rise by the depression, to shine by 
 the eclipse of others, to build a fortune on the ruins of our 
 neighbor's reputation, is that which no honorable mind can 
 affect, no honest man will endeavor. Our own wit, courage, 
 and industry, managed with God's assistance and blessing, are 
 sufficient, and only lawful instruments of prosecuting honest 
 enterprises; we need not, we must not instead of them employ 
 our neighbor's disgrace : no worldly good is worth purchasing 
 at such a rate, no project worth achieving by such foul ways. 
 
 Neither sliould we out of malignity, to cherish or gratify ill 
 liumor, use this practice. It is observable of some persons, 
 that not out of any formed displeasure, grudge, or particular 
 disaffection, nor out of any particular design, but merely out of 
 a KftmniUeKi, an ill disposition springing up from nature, or 
 contracted l)y use, tliey are apt to carp at any action, ;iud with 
 sharp reproach to bite any man that comes in their way, there- 
 by feeding and soothing that evil inclination. Hut as this in- 
 human and currish humor should be corrected and extirpated 
 from our hearts, so should the issues thereof at our mouths be
 
 424 BARROW. — SERMON XVI. 
 
 stopped : the bespattering our neighbor's good name should 
 never afford any satisfaction or delight unto us. 
 
 Nor out of wantonness should we speak ill, for our diver- 
 tisement or sport. For our neichbor's reputation is too great 
 and precious a thing to be played with, or offered up to sport ; 
 we are very foolish in so disvaluing it, very naughty in so mis- 
 i^sing it. Our wits are very barren, our brains are ill furnished 
 with store of knotvlege, if we can find no other matter of con- 
 versation. 
 
 Nor out of negligence and inadvertency should we sputter 
 out reproachful speech ; shooting ill words at rovers, or not re- 
 garding who stands in our way. Among all temerities this is 
 one of the most noxious, and therefore very culpable. 
 
 In fine, we should never speak concerning our neighbor 
 from any other principle than charity, or to any other intent 
 but what is charitable ; such as tendeth to his good, or at least 
 is consistent therewith. ' Let all your things,' saith St. Paul, 
 * be done in charity :' and words are most of the things we do 
 concerning our neighbor, wherein we may express charity. In 
 all our speeches therefore touching him, we should plainly 
 show that we have a care of his reputation, that we tender his 
 interest, that we even desire his content and repose. Even 
 when reason and need do so require, that we should disclose 
 and reprehend his faults, we may, we should, by the manner 
 and scope of our speech, signify thus much. Which rule, 
 were it observed, if we should never speak ill otherwise than 
 out of charity, surely most ill-speaking would be cut off; most, 
 I fear, of our tattling about others, much of our gossipping 
 would be marred. 
 
 Indeed, so far from bitter or sour our language should be, 
 that it ought to be sweet and pleasant ; so far from rough and 
 harsh, that it should be courteous and obliging ; so far from 
 signifying wrath, ill-will, contempt, or animosity thatitshould 
 express tender affection, good esteem, sincere respect toward 
 our brethren ; and be apt to produce the like in them toward 
 us : the sense of them should be grateful to the heart ; the 
 very sound and accent of them should be delightful to the ear. 
 Every one should * please his neighbor for his good to edifi-
 
 OF EVIL-SPEAKING IN GENERAL. 426 
 
 cation.' Our words should always be iv x"P'^'' * ^^^*^ grace, 
 seasoned with salt;' they should have the grace of courtesy, 
 they should be seasoned with the salt of discretion, so as to be 
 sweet and savory to the hearers. Commonly ill language is a 
 certain sign of inward enmity and ill-will. Good-will is wont 
 to show itself in good terms ; it clotheth even its grief hand- 
 somely, and its displeasure carrieth favor in its face ; its rigor 
 is civil and gentle, tempered with pity for the faults and errors 
 which it disliketh, with the desire of their amendment and 
 recovery whom it reprehendeth. It would inflict no more evil 
 than is necessary ; it would cure its neighbor's disease without 
 exasperating his patience, troubling his modesty, or impairing 
 his credit. As it always judgeth candidly, so it never con- 
 demneth extremely. 
 
 II. But so much for the explication of this precept, and the 
 directive part of our discourse. I shall now briefly propound 
 some inducements to the observance thereof. 
 
 1. Let us consider that nothing more than railing and re- 
 viling is opposite to the nature, and inconsistent with the tenor 
 of our religion : the which, as even a heathen* did observe of 
 it, nil nisi justtim suadet, et Ime, ' doth recommend nothing 
 but what is very just and mild ;' which propoundeth the prac- 
 tices of charity, meekness, patience, peaceableness, moderation, 
 equity, alacrity, or good humor, as its principal laws, and de- 
 clareth them the chief fruits of the divine Spirit and grace : 
 which chargeth us to curb and compose all our passions ; more 
 particularly to restrain and repress anger, animosity, envy, 
 malice, and such like dispositions, as the fruits of carnality and 
 corrupt lust : which consequently drieth up all the sources, or 
 dammeth up the sluices of bad language. As it doth above 
 all things oblige us to bear no ill-will in our hearts, so it charg- 
 eth us to vent none with our mouths. 
 
 2. It is therefore often expressly condemned and prohibitfd 
 as evil. It is the property of the wicked, a character of those 
 who 'work iniquity,' to 'whet their tongues like a svvor«l, 
 and bend their bows to shoot their arrows, even bitter words.' 
 
 3. No practice hath more severe punishments denounced to 
 
 * Ammian. MHrccll.
 
 426 BARROW. — SERMON XVI. 
 
 it than this. The railer (and it is indeed a very proper and fit 
 punishment for him, he being exceedingly bad company) is to be 
 banished out of all good society ; thereto St. Paul adjudgeth 
 him : ' I have,' saith he, ' now w^ritten unto you, not to keep 
 company, if any man that is called a brother be a fornicator, 
 or covetous, or an idolater, or a railer, or a drunkard, or an 
 extortioner, with such an one not to eat.' Ye see what com- 
 pany the railer hath in the text, and with what a crew of people 
 he is coupled : but no good company he is allowed otherwhere ; 
 every good Christian should avoid him as a blot, and a pest of 
 conversation : and finally he is sure to be excluded from the 
 blessed society above in heaven ; for ' neither thieves, nor 
 covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall in- 
 herit the kingdom of God :' and, 'without,' (without the hea- 
 venly city) ' are dogs,' saith St. John in his Revelation, that 
 is, those chiefly who out of currish spite or malignity do fro- 
 wardly bark at their neighbors, or cruelly bite them with re- 
 proachful language. 
 
 4. If we look on such language in its own nature, what is it 
 but a symptom of afoul, a weak, a disordered and distempered 
 mind? It is the smoke of inward rage and malice: it is a 
 stream that cannot issue from a sweet spring ; it is a storm that 
 caunot bluster out of a calm region. ' The words of the pure 
 are pleasant words,' as the wise man saith. 
 
 5. This practice doth plainly signify low spirit, ill breeding, 
 and bad manners ; and thence misbecometh any wise, any 
 honest, any honorable person. Itagreeth to children, who are 
 unapt and unaccustomed to deal in matters considerable, to 
 squabble ; to women of meanest rank, (apt by nature or custom 
 to be transported with passion,) to scold. In our modern lan- 
 guages it is termed ' villany,' as being proper for rustic boors, 
 or men of coarsest education and employment ; who, having 
 their minds debased by being conversant in meanest affairs, do 
 vent their sorry passions, and bicker about their petty concern- 
 ments in such strains ; who also, being not capable of a fair re- 
 putation, or sensible of disgrace to themselves, do little value 
 the credit of others, or care for aspersing it. But such lan- 
 guage is unworthy of those persons, and cannot easily be drawn 
 from them who are wont to exercise their thoughts about nobler
 
 OF EVIL-SPEAKING IN GENERAL. 427 
 
 matters, who are versed in affairs manageable only by calm 
 deliberation and fair persuasion, not by impetuous and pro- 
 vocative rudeness ; the which do never work otherwise on mas- 
 culine souls, than so as to procure disdain and resistance. Such 
 persons, knowing the benefit of a good name, being wont to pos- 
 sess a good repute, prizing their own credit as a considerable 
 good, will never be prone to bereave others of the like by op- 
 probrious speech. A noble enemy will never speak of his enemy 
 in bad terras. 
 
 We may farther consider that all wise, all honest, all in- 
 genuous persons have an aversation from ill speaking, and cannot 
 entertain it with any acceptance or complacence; that only ill- 
 natured, unworthy, and naughty people are its willing auditors, 
 or do abet it with applause. The good man, in the fifteenth 
 Psalm, non accipit oyprohriuvi , 'doth not take up,' or accept, 
 'a reproach against his neighbor :' but 'a wicked doer,' saith 
 the wise man, ' giveth heed to false lips, and a liar giveth ear 
 to a naughty tongue.' And what reasonable man will do that 
 which is disgustful to the wise and good, is grateful only to the 
 foolish and baser sort of men ; I pretermit, that using this sort 
 of language doth incapacitate a man for to benefit his neighbor, 
 and defeateth his endeavors for his edification, disparaging a 
 good cause, prejudicing the defence of truth, obstructing the 
 effects of good instruction and wholesome reproof ; as we did 
 before remark and declare. Farther, 
 
 6. He that useth this kind of speech doth, as harm and trou- 
 ble others, so create many great inconveniences and mischiefs 
 to himself thereby. Nothing so inflameth the wrath of men, so 
 provoketh their enmity, so breedeth lasting hatred and spite, as 
 do contumelious words. They are often called swords and 
 arrows; and as such they pierce deeply, and cause most griev- 
 ous smart ; which men feeling are enraged, and accordingly 
 will strive to requite them in the like manner, and in all other 
 obvious ways of revenge. Hence strife, clamor and tumult, 
 care, suspicion and fear, dang<r and trouble, sorrow and rcgnt, 
 do seize on the reviler ; and he is suflicicntly punished for this 
 dealing. No man can otherwise than live in perpetual fear of 
 reciprocal like usage from him, whom he is conscious of having 
 so abused. Whence, if not justice or charity toward others,
 
 428 BARROW. — SERMON XVI. 
 
 yet love and pity of ourselves should persuade us to forbear it 
 as disquietful, incommodious, and mischievous to us. 
 
 We should indeed certainly enjoy much love, much concord, 
 much quiet, we should live in great safety and security, we 
 should be exempted from much care and fear, if we would re- 
 strain ourselves from abusing and offending our neighbor in this 
 kind : being conscious of so just and innocent demeanor toward 
 him, we should converse with him in a pleasant freedom and 
 confidence, not suspecting any bad language or ill usage from 
 him. 
 
 7. Hence with evidently good reason is he that useth such 
 language called a ' fool :' and he that abstaineth from it is com- 
 mended as wise. ' A fool's lips enter into contention, and his 
 mouth calleth for strokes.' * A fool's mouth is his destruction, 
 and his lips are the snare of his soul.' ' He that refraineth his 
 tongue is wise.' ' In the tongue of the wise is health.' ' He 
 that keepeth his lips keepeth his life ; but he that openeth wide 
 his mouth (that is in evil-speaking, gaping with clamor and ve- 
 hemency) shall have destruction.' ' The words of a wise man's 
 mouth are gracious ; but the lips of a fool will swallow up him- 
 self.' ' Death and life are in the power of the tongue ; and 
 they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof;' that is, of the 
 one or the other, answerably to the kind of speech they choose. 
 
 In fine, very remarkable is that advice, or resolution of the 
 grand point concerning the best way of living happily, in the 
 psalmist : ' What man is he that desireth life, and loveth many 
 days, that he may see good ? Keep thy tongue from evil, and 
 thy lips from speaking guile.' Abstinence from ill-speaking 
 he seemeth to propose as the first step toward the fruition of a 
 durably-happy life. 
 
 8. Lastly, we may consider that it is a grievous perverting 
 the design of speech, (that excellent faculty, which so much 
 distinguisheth us from, so highly advanceth us above other 
 creatures,) to use it to the defaming and disquieting our neigh- 
 bor. It was given us as an instrument of beneficial commerce 
 and delectable conversation ; that with it we might assist and 
 advise, might cheer and comfort one another : we therefore in 
 employing it to the disgrace, vexation, damage or prejudice in 
 any kind, of our neighbor, do foully abuse it ; and so doing,
 
 OF EVIL-SPEAKING IN GENERAL. 429 
 
 render ourselves indeed worse than dumb beasts : for better 
 far it were that we could say nothing, than that we should 
 speak ill. 
 
 Now the God of grace and peace make us perfect in every 
 good work to do his will, working in us that which is well- 
 pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ ; to whom be glory 
 for ever and ever. Amen. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 PaiNIED BV A. J. VALPV, RtD LION COURT, FLEtl SI HEFT.
 
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